WORDS: JAHN VANNISSELROY
In 2010, comedian Markus Birdman stared the Grim Reaper in the face. And the Reaper stared back. At 40, Birdman woke up blind as the result of a stroke, wondering if he was to live or die. He eventually managed to make the Reaper blink first – whether Birdman was helped by fact he couldn‘t really see, no one really knows – and now uses his brush with death to make others laugh, or, as is equally often the case, shift uncomfortably in their seats.
To Birdman, death has become a real concept, rather than the abstract ‘yeah, I‘m going to die’ acknowledgement most of us will grudgingly give if pressed. It made him far more aware of the need not to sweat the small stuff and any stress about his mortgage seem instantly irrelevant.
And while the last thing he wants is a non-stop flashing fluorescent reminder of mortality, Birdman, sight partially restored, has become an advocate for opening up about the end of life and breaking down the surrounding taboos that pervade our society, mostly to our detriment. He‘s not alone.
The funnyman is part of a large group performing at this week’s Death: Southbank Centre’s Festival For The Living, a gathering that aims to demystify the final act of life. Philosophers, scientists, artists, undertakers, anthropologists and psychiatrists will all share their experience on the topic. As well as discussion and debate, great funeral music will be showcased; a collection of modern, it‘s-such-a-shame-to-bury-them coffins from Ghana will be displayed; and there‘ll be poetry and performance about our approach and attitude to the one universally uncomfortable topic.
It may seem uneasy subject matter, but it shouldn‘t, Birdman (above) says. “Death can be funny,“ he insists. “It‘s up there with sex and religion. And there‘s lots of black humour out there. People appreciate you telling the truth … as long as it’s funny. It‘s great making people laugh but if you can make them think and or feel, that’s a nice area to be in – even if it is about ‘the end’.”
But the man who admits he would take on a gig at a funeral – although he does view it as the ultimate challenge – laments the Western world‘s attitude to death, especially in contrast to the approach of other cultures.
Ours, he says, is just too depressing to be healthy. “We live in a Christian society and Christians worship pain and suffering and death. We don’t look it in the right way. In fact, people don’t want to look at it at all,“ he says. “I like the Day of the Dead celebrations they have in Mexico and I‘d certainly hope my own funeral was a celebration like that.“
According to Charles Cowling, the author of the Good Funeral Guide, Birdman is on the money. Cowling insists funerals in this country remain little more than an invidious social obligation, and while his book and website aimed at demystifying the funeral process have not yet caused a tsunami of change, they are creating ripples.
“Take a funeral in West Africa: it lasts four days. It incorporates music and dancing and every single one of the emotions is gone through; there‘s much more community engagement,“ Cowling says. “In Britain, it‘s all over in 20 minutes. You ask people about the funeral and they say ‘I can’t wait to put it behind me.’ I‘m not saying you have to look forward to it but if you can‘t wait to put it behind you, then what bloody use was it?“
Cowling wants not just dying to be talked about openly, but also what happens to those left. Too often, friends and relatives launch headfirst into a world of denial, enabled by well-meaning but hard-charging death industry experts who help give life to Doctor Samuel Johnson’s observation that ‘grief is a species of idleness ’.
“A funeral director says, ‘Don’t worry, I will do absolutely everything, as if this is a great act of kindness – and it may well be, but maybe it‘s disabling as well,“ he says. “People stop their imagination and they kind of grief-walk through it all with their eyes half-shut. It’s not very helpful at all“.
However, each death is different and not every occasion will always be sunshine, laughter, dancing and jokes. There are, Cowling concedes, some horrible people in the world, people who to glorify their lives for the sake of it could do more harm than good. Tragic deaths, too, are never easy. “You have to be emotionally honest. Making it a positive experience is important but you have to know what you’re trying to achieve,“ he advises. “What are your goals and objectives from a funeral? It sounds very ‘corporate’ but it will help you through it.“
For comedienne Sandy Toksvig, the best funerals have been the ones with absence of black, everyone dressed colourfully, and the music loud. The woman who caused a stir last year with her quip that “It‘s the Tories who are putting the ‘n’ into cuts“, is keen to put death back into perspective, adamant our approach should be to ‘celebrate’, rather than simply ‘deal with’ death. “Saying ‘dealing’ with it sounds like something you‘d do with the gas bill,“ she says.
“Celebrating it sounds like, ‘wow, how great it was that that person touched me and that I was able to spend time with that person’. That’s what we should focus on.“ Her Sandi Toksvig Memorial Lecture at the Southbank will spotlight some of the stranger situations surrounding death. Bizarre funerals – think Thomas Hardy, whose heart was to be buried in Dorset and his body in London, until a cat ate his heart; and weird wills – think TM Zink, the US misogynist who left his money to a library on the condition it was womanless, both in clientele and authors – are bound to be popular.
“The whole topic can get a bit too serious,“ Toksvig says. “We tend to avoid it. I try and put the ‘fun’ into funeral. Hopefully, that light-hearted manner will make people think. “Look, every single culture fears death. You can spend all your time being afraid of when it’s going to come but it’s better to live every minute thinking ‘life’s great’.“
And our other comedian, Birdman, the man who stared the Grim Reaper in the face and won, says while the next round won’t be any easier, at least he’s had the chance to let go of things that don’t matter. “In 50 years or so you’ll be dead, so go out there and do whatever it is you want to,“ he advises anyone fretting about their last breaths. “And who cares if you offend a few people on the way? All we can really do is laugh.“
So whether you‘re in need of a chuckle, or perhaps grieving and could do with a little perspective, consider reminding yourself: hey, at least I’m not dead yet. If there‘s one thing the Southbank Centre‘s latest festival could teach us, it’s that things aren’t always as grave as they could be… ❚
Check out this selection of unusual burial caskets from Nottingham-based Crazy Coffins and the famous Pa Joe’s in Africa.
They form Boxed: Fabulous Coffins from the UK and Ghana, part of the Death: The Sounthbank Centre’s festival of the Living.
Other strange and colourful designs include a skip, Mercedes, giant cocoa bean and a guitar.
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Ours, he says, is just too depressing to be healthy. “We live in a Christian society and Christians worship pain and suffering and death. We don’t look it in the right way. In fact, people don’t want to look at it at all,“ he says. “I like the Day of the Dead celebrations they have in Mexico and I‘d certainly hope my own funeral was a celebration like that.“
According to Charles Cowling, the author of the Good Funeral Guide, Birdman is on the money. Cowling insists funerals in this country remain little more than an invidious social obligation, and while his book and website aimed at demystifying the funeral process have not yet caused a tsunami of change, they are creating ripples.
“Take a funeral in West Africa: it lasts four days. It incorporates music and dancing and every single one of the emotions is gone through; there‘s much more community engagement,“ Cowling says. “In Britain, it‘s all over in 20 minutes. You ask people about the funeral and they say ‘I can’t wait to put it behind me.’ I‘m not saying you have to look forward to it but if you can‘t wait to put it behind you, then what bloody use was it?“
Cowling wants not just dying to be talked about openly, but also what happens to those left. Too often, friends and relatives launch headfirst into a world of denial, enabled by well-meaning but hard-charging death industry experts who help give life to Doctor Samuel Johnson’s observation that ‘grief is a species of idleness ’.
“A funeral director says, ‘Don’t worry, I will do absolutely everything, as if this is a great act of kindness – and it may well be, but maybe it‘s disabling as well,“ he says. “People stop their imagination and they kind of grief-walk through it all with their eyes half-shut. It’s not very helpful at all“.
However, each death is different and not every occasion will always be sunshine, laughter, dancing and jokes. There are, Cowling concedes, some horrible people in the world, people who to glorify their lives for the sake of it could do more harm than good. Tragic deaths, too, are never easy. “You have to be emotionally honest. Making it a positive experience is important but you have to know what you’re trying to achieve,“ he advises. “What are your goals and objectives from a funeral? It sounds very ‘corporate’ but it will help you through it.“
–
For comedienne Sandy Toksvig, the best funerals have been the ones with absence of black, everyone dressed colourfully, and the music loud. The woman who caused a stir last year with her quip that “It‘s the Tories who are putting the ‘n’ into cuts“, is keen to put death back into perspective, adamant our approach should be to ‘celebrate’, rather than simply ‘deal with’ death. “Saying ‘dealing’ with it sounds like something you‘d do with the gas bill,“ she says.
“Celebrating it sounds like, ‘wow, how great it was that that person touched me and that I was able to spend time with that person’. That’s what we should focus on.“ Her Sandi Toksvig Memorial Lecture at the Southbank will spotlight some of the stranger situations surrounding death. Bizarre funerals – think Thomas Hardy, whose heart was to be buried in Dorset and his body in London, until a cat ate his heart; and weird wills – think TM Zink, the US misogynist who left his money to a library on the condition it was womanless, both in clientele and authors – are bound to be popular.
“The whole topic can get a bit too serious,“ Toksvig says. “We tend to avoid it. I try and put the ‘fun’ into funeral. Hopefully, that light-hearted manner will make people think. “Look, every single culture fears death. You can spend all your time being afraid of when it’s going to come but it’s better to live every minute thinking ‘life’s great’.“
And our other comedian, Birdman, the man who stared the Grim Reaper in the face and won, says while the next round won’t be any easier, at least he’s had the chance to let go of things that don’t matter. “In 50 years or so you’ll be dead, so go out there and do whatever it is you want to,“ he advises anyone fretting about their last breaths. “And who cares if you offend a few people on the way? All we can really do is laugh.“
So whether you‘re in need of a chuckle, or perhaps grieving and could do with a little perspective, consider reminding yourself: hey, at least I’m not dead yet. If there‘s one thing the Southbank Centre‘s latest festival could teach us, it’s that things aren’t always as grave as they could be… ❚
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Check out this collection of unusual burial caskets from Nottingham-based Crazycaskets.co.uk and Pa Joe in Ghana.
The colelciton is par of Death: Southbank Centre’s Festival For The Living.
Coffins in many unexpected designs – from a Mercedes, to a giant cocoa bean, to flying kite come – together to tell the story of the growing number of individuals around the world who choose to celebrate their life and death in the form of a uniquely designed coffin.
