Rolf Harris dead at 93: reviled outcast’s death kept secret

The musician, painter and TV host who became a disgraced public figure when he was jailed for child sexual offences, died of cancer on May 10.

Australian entertainer and singer Rolf Harris, pictured at Melbourne Town Hall in July 2008, ahead of his induction into the ARIA hall of fame. The honour was later rescinded by ARIA, after Harris was convicted of sexual offences in 2014. Picture: David Crosling

Disgraced Australian entertainer Rolf Harris has died, aged 93 of neck cancer.

Harris, a long time figure in British and Australian entertainment, who had even painted the official portrait of the late Queen Elizabeth for her 80th birthday, was a convicted pedophile in his later years and had spent the last few years of his life in near isolation in Bray, Berkshire.

Harris died on May 10, but his death was only confirmed upon official registration of his demise at the Windsor and Maidenhead council on Monday, May 23.

The death certificate says Harris has already been cremated.

On May 11 a private ambulance, often used by undertakers, was photographed outside of Harris’ million dollar mansion on The Thames prompting press inquiries to his daughter Bindi, her husband Craig and the Harris family solicitor Daniel Burke. They declined to comment.

On Monday afternoon UK time, a statement was released by the Harris family lawyer which said: “Rolf Harris recently died peacefully surrounded by family and friends and has now been laid to rest. They ask that you respect their privacy. No further comment will be made.”

The official cause of death was “metastatic squamous cell carcinoma of neck” and “frailty of old age”.

Harris had been convicted of sexual assault of his daughter’s 13 year old friend from 1978, as well as other young girls including youngsters seeking autographs and an actress in 2014.

One of the convictions involved an eight year old girl, but this was overturned upon appeal.

Harris was one of the highest profile convictions of the Met Police operation Yewtree, set up in the wake of the abhorrent acts carried out undetected by fellow tv star Jimmy Savile, and Harris’ sentencing was a dramatic fall from grace for the man who had a prime TV show, smash his songs and was a celebrity for generations of young children.

He was convicted of 12 counts of indecent assault and jailed for five years and nine months. He was released on licence in May 2017.

Born in the northern Perth suburb of Bassendean in 1930, Harris achieved national notability by writing and recording several popular songs, including Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport (1960) and Jake the Peg (1965).

As a musician, his use of the didgeridoo and clapping sticks introduced these distinctly Indigenous Australian sounds to a wide audience.

As a television presenter, he later became a familiar face to viewers across Britain, where he hosted programs including Rolf’s Cartoon Club (1989-1993) and Animal Hospital (1994-2004).

As well, Harris played an instrument of his own invention: the “wobble board”, whose unique thrumming sound provided the rhythmic backing for his breakthrough single.

Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport was a comedic folk song in which he sang from the perspective of a dying Australian stockman, who left instructions for his friends to take care of his affairs in the event of his death.

But in the final decade of his own life, Harris found few friends to care for his affairs.

In July 2014, the revered entertainer was convicted of sexual offences against children that occurred between 1968 and 1986. He pleaded not guilty to all of the charges.

At the age of 84, he was sentenced to five years and nine months in prison on 12 counts of indecent assault.

His four female victims were aged from eight to 15 at the time of the offences, and included a catalogue of abuse against a friend of his daughter, Bindi, when the girl was aged between 13 to 15. He served three years in a sex offender-only jail in Staffordshire, England.

Entertainer and sex offender Rolf Harris dies, aged 93.

The stain of being a convicted paedophile clung to him for the rest of his days. Once a friendly, familiar face to children across Australia, Britain and beyond, Harris became a reviled public figure.

He was stripped of many of the accolades accumulated across his career, including his induction into the Australian Recording Industry Association (ARIA) Hall of Fame in 2008, where he had performed Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport at the annual ARIA Awards alongside pop group The Seekers.

His appointment as Officer of the Order of Australia (AO) was rescinded, and the honour of being named an “Australian National Living Treasure” was removed, after a vote was held by the board of the National Trust of Australia.

In 2017, one of his 12 convictions was overturned by the Court of Appeal in London, relating to the allegation that Harris had indecently assaulted an eight-year-old girl in 1969 at an event in Portsmouth.

“I have said all along that I did not attend and had never attended the location in Portsmouth as this complainant alleged at my first trial,” Harris said in a statement after the overturned conviction.

“I was not believed and she was,” he said. “I have served a nine-month prison sentence based on her word. […] I hope the press supply the facts to the public to let them decide if I am a monster or the subject of a frenzied witch hunt which focused more on grabbing headlines than finding the truth.”

Harris was denied permission to appeal against the remaining 11 convictions for indecent assault, against three female victims.

It is those stains on his character which coloured everything that came before, including his extensive career as a painter.

Art was what had brought him to London, where he studied painting; in 2005, he painted an official portrait of Queen Elizabeth II.

Commissioned by the BBC for the Queen’s 80th birthday, the work took Harris two months to complete, while the subject participated in two sittings at Buckingham Palace; the Queen wore a turquoise dress and a beatific smile.

This oil painting boosted Harris’s already significant reputation as an artist, and led to his appointment as a Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (CBE) in June 2006. It followed his earlier appointments as a Member of the Order of the British Empire (MBE) in 1968, and Officer (OBE) in 1977.

Harris performs on stage on the second day of Glastonbury Festival at Worthy Farm on June 25, 2010 in Glastonbury, England. (Photo by Gary Wolstenholme/Redferns)

Yet the subject of his painting was as disgusted by his convictions as her British subjects.

In 2015, the Queen directed that his CBE was to be cancelled and annulled, and “that his name shall be erased from the Register of the said Order.”

The final location of his Royal portrait was unknown. It was once hung in the Queen’s Gallery at Buckingham Palace until 2007, then at an art gallery in Liverpool until 2012; in 2016, the BBC said the painting was not part of its collection.

This fall from favour characterised the ignominy of Harris’s final life chapter. Following his release from jail in 2017, he was rarely seen again.

In 2019, Harris attracted headlines for talking to a wood sculptor working at a British primary school near his home in Bray, a village of Maidenhead.

He had no access to children, and committed no offence, but the optics of a convicted paedophile seen loitering on school grounds were poor. The school principal intervened, and told Harris: “You need to go.”

This minor episode, and the finality of those four words, was telling.

Once chummy enough to stand at the heart of British society while painting a smiling portrait of one of the most powerful figures in the world, he spent the end of his life as an outcast from his small local community, just as he was shunned by the millions who he had previously entertained.

As long as his name and art is remembered, it will be attached to his convicted deeds. One colour from life’s rich palette dominates the memory of Rolf Harris, and it’s painted black.