I first knew David Parsons as a tutor and Head of Film at North East London Polytechnic when I became a student in 1981. I remember vividly his ‘cool’ look. He was always well dressed in a post-war US casual style: a T-shirt under an open-collared shirt, his socks carefully matched. It was noticed, and he was universally liked by the students - not because of his clothes, but because of his supportive teaching style. Although he was regarded as very serious in his commitment to structural film and conceptual work (he had been taught by Richard Hamilton at Newcastle University), he was not partisan in his teaching. On the contrary, he was generous: a listener who helped us to find our own voice.

Both Jenny and David were great teachers, united by their love of art and their love of people; they were always surrounded by friends. Jenny first taught in primary education and later at a large secondary school in North London. They were both intelligent and dynamic, and lived life as fully as they could, though they paid a high price for the economic stability that enabled them to build the life they shared. Both sublimated their artistic ambitions into teaching. David continued to make films until his time at Central Saint Martins, where he taught from 1984. After leaving NELP for the London Institute (now UAL) during a period of institutional change, he found himself unable to make artworks until he left teaching. Jenny did not see herself as an artist in the 1980s and railed against what she saw as the self-importance and pomposity of the men teaching in higher education (mainly David!), a response shaped as much by frustration as by feminism. I loved her rages - her strident denunciations of patriarchy and injustice - and the passion she brought to them. David had a quieter demeanour but adored her spirit, and their dynamic can also be seen in their painting.

In later life, following early retirement, they both turned to painting. A clear dialogue can be seen between them in the work, alongside distinct divergences. The paintings are typically modest in scale but rich in intense colour. They show a keen interest in the formal construction of the image. David’s paintings are often more geometrically structured, creating a tension between formal rigour and a wry absurdism - a sensibility present even in his early films. I recall telephoning him after a screening at the British Film Institute in 2013, when Mechanical Ballet (1975) was shown, to tell him that I had finally recognised the humour alongside the structural play (as a young woman I had only seen the structural dimension); he was delighted. I can see that same quality now in his paintings.

I never saw Jenny’s early work, but I recognise her attitude to life in the dynamic curves of natural form within these compositions. Exquisite colour and pattern come together in a cornucopia of life-affirming energy and joy. It is moving to remember them through their work, which speaks so eloquently of their shared project: living life fully.

Dr Rachel Garfield is a British artist, writer and academic specialising in contemporary video art, film and critical theory, but with a background in painting. She is currently Professor of Fine Art at the Royal College of Art.