"E-lee-mo-sin-ary": pertaining to alms-giving...
There is a healthy-looking young man, in his late 20s I suppose, sat on the pavement on London Bridge, his legs covered by a rather tatty sleeping bag. He is bearded, unkempt, but not particularly undernourished, and he mutters '...any change please' in a particularly half-hearted fashion at the passing tourists and commuters.
I have walked over London Bridge twice a day for the past few weeks, en-route to daily radiotherapy, and have had ample time in which to muse upon his activity. I have certainly never seen any evidence of alms-giving here: he doesn't even possess any sort of 'begging-bowl' such as might grace the hand of a holy man in the east. He doesn't aspire to a musical instrument or any display of art on the pavement which might solicit contributions: he doesn't even wield a despairing can of lager.
It reminds me of the comedy sketch of the bemused capitalist businessman confronted by a request for a charitable contribution: "Let me get this quite clear... I just give you money and I get nothing in return?" It is hard to think of a meagre contribution having much effect upon this young man's existence at all: one is tempted to speculate on the effect of a £100 windfall... Would he leap up and prance around in gratitude and invest it in a foundation course in Fine Art at a suburban university? I very much doubt it...
I can only surmise that this is a sort of minimalist eleemosynary expressionism: the soliciting of alms-givers with absolutely no thought of any reward at all. As if just as much good would be accomplished in the Greater Scheme of Things by tossing any loose change straight over the parapet into the muddy swirl of the Thames below.
Perhaps, after all, this beggar does represent some art form, awaiting a place in the Tate...
Dr Alan G. Gray