Obituary: Nigel Macpherson-Grant
In early June this year, we were notified of the untimely passing of Nigel Macpherson-Grant. For those of us who knew Nigel, he was a fine man and an outstanding contributor to Kent’s archaeology, its ceramics in particular; the county was lucky to have him, and we were lucky to have known him. The following are just a few recollections from members:
My first encounter with the Nigel was when I was volunteering on my first archaeological excavation, at the site of the Asda superstore in Broadstairs in 1999 (having helped out a little on the evaluation the previous year). I well remember this tall, striking, Gandalf-like figure, who one day suddenly appeared alongside the Trust for Thanet Archaeology’s Director Dave Perkins, wandered easily around the site, Dave handing him pottery fresh from the ground, which the mysterious stranger must have communed with, for somehow, magically, he would tell us its date. His work done, he disappeared, probably with a puff of smoke. I was thoroughly inspired, and though having had no interest or appreciation of pottery up to that point, it spurred a great desire to know more and to learn how this magical skill was achieved. In the following years, I was fortunate to have the opportunity to get to know Nigel, someone who I considered to be one of the living legends of Thanet and Kent archaeology (though he certainly wouldn’t have liked me saying so!)
Paul Hart (IOTAS)
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Nigel and I had many archaeological sit-downs and discussions over the years about various sites and pots, debates that went on for months, even years… but the memories that will endure are the numerous trips to Cliftonville… the many happy hours shared, talking archaeology, philosophy, politics, sorting life’s problems, often in the cafe, usually over sausage and chips, and always with good humour. Nigel was much more than the go-to guy for pottery; he was one of those rare individuals who, through his values and attitudes, served as an example. He was an inspiration who influenced my thinking, both personally and professionally, far more than he probably realised and, most importantly, he was my friend.
Richard Taylor (KAS Magazine Editor)
I had known Nigel for over twenty years, and in our early years of the Kent Archaeological Field School, his mentoring and presence on-site was invaluable to both students and staff. His knowledge of Prehistoric pottery was second to none, and Nigel was delighted to share that knowledge with staff and students. His death is a great loss to the profession, and on a personal note I will miss him as he was a good friend.
Paul Wilkinson (SWAT)
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Three of us, Committee members of Studying History and Archaeology in Lympne (SHAL), attended Nigel’s 1-day ceramics workshop at Thanet Archaeology in September 2017. We had little previous knowledge of pottery through the ages but found his course fascinating. He had set out examples of pottery in chronological order on a line of tables and talked us through the different styles, material compositions and production methods, whilst allowing us to handle and inspect the pottery pieces. His knowledge, enthusiasm and willingness to involve us provided such valuable information for us in how to handle and identify pottery finds in our archaeological activities. From this brief contact with him, we came away inspired by an expert in his specialist archaeological work.
Mike Pearson (SHAL)
Almost ten years ago, I was looking for a pottery specialist to examine the pottery from our medieval manor dig. Nigel came highly recommended, and I got in touch (when he still had email!) He agreed to come and have a look at the assemblage, and so began our friendship. Nigel was not your typical specialist. He wasn’t just going to give me a report on the pottery; we were going to go on a journey. This involved visits to the site, training days held at Shorne Woods Country Park and a dialogue that continued across the years. He always refused to charge a reasonable rate for his time, despite my pleadings. I cherished the days when he would come up to the Park. We would book a room out for a few days and fuelled by coffee, biscuits and cigarettes; the cogitation would begin. Others have remarked on his unique ability to pick up a sherd and commune with it. Occasionally he would pass them across and quiz me for my thoughts, as part of the learning process. He would often turn up with patisserie to aid our studies.
On our meets, we became quite attuned to one another, frequently descending into accents and mirth. I always enjoyed my trips to see him at his flat, often with Richard. We would cram into his study room and tip sherds onto the table by the window. Once lunchtime arrived, we would head down to his local greasy spoon and put the world to rights over sausage and chips. Topics ranged from archaeology to philosophy. We had kept in touch through the Spring of this year, but I was so sad and shocked to learn of his passing. He had a profound effect on my life, and I miss him very much.
Andrew Mayfield (KCC)
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I met Nigel in 2003, in the Trust’s old headquarters at Crampton Tower. I observed his ways. His table top games of lay out the ‘sherd’. His tippy tap on the sherd with specially extended fingernail and occasionally taking a pair of pliers to some unfortunate sherd. Pacing. Incantation. Pronouncement of personal knowledge of a sherd, or that a sherd or assemblage had the quality of being ‘gutty’.
I came to realise the Nigel was a full-body archaeologist. He grew with his material; he lived with his material over extended periods. His habits were habits formed by his material. His material directed his sense of time and place. His mysterious mutterings and greetings to unknown sherds were memory methods that helped him sift that body of experiential evidence to find the rightful place for each item. Each sherd embodied a living world of material, producer, consumer, exchange, loss and decomposition.
Nigel was desperate to share his knowledge, as well as his reason for being, trying to understand this material as fully as a human could. He recognised the finite nature of his capacities and was happy to do what he could to share his knowledge, although this was not a straightforward thing to do. He tried to pass on his method to others and took on many followers and a long-standing apprentice to learn many of his ways.
Nigel initiated the Ceramic Thanet project. He helped create experimental tools, like simple bags of dated pottery which could be laid out and handled, for the beginner to gain the experience of the pioneer under secure guidance. He organised a ceramic collection into sets that demonstrated his methods and extracted items that demonstrated principles that were part of his assumed knowledge. Even material he marked as having little value for storage have been repurposed into experimental learning materials. For the grand layouts for Ceramic Thanet workshops, Nigel bought red velvet table covers, colour coded papers for laying out the sherds and labels in his distinctive cursive script. Palm trees and plants were requested for the rooms to create just the right atmosphere to learn from the master – formal ritualised presentation of knowledge, which we can repeat in his absence. With Nigel’s organised collection, we have the building blocks to enable us to verify that what we create from archaeological material is good, sound, solid, reliable, scientific fact. Here are the material facts; this is true. But, like someone whose whole life was dedicated to building a great organ, it has to put to use, we must now learn how to play his music on it.
Ges Moody (Trust for Thanet)