“Gary actually asked if he could have back the painting he’d given me for a birthday present and he gave me another one to replace it.

“But during the show he was really touched by the whole thing and felt he’d been ungenerous so he gave me the original painting back to destroy.

“As I set my blowtorch to it, and it was giving off all these noxious fumes because of the gloss paint, suddenly it struck me that it was a ridiculous thing to do, but it was too late by that time.”

The artist also felt a pang of regret at losing his father’s sheepskin coat, worrying that it might jinx him. He even hoped someone might steal it but it went into landfill along with everything else.

Visitors did pinch items however, mainly at the private view, just as they had at Homage to New York.

The Tate Liverpool exhibition includes the suicide carriage, a piano leg and other parts of Tinguely’s ingenious piece that were taken away as souvenirs.

Also featured is a documentary Landy made about the 1960 artwork, along with many of his own drawings inspired by it.

His obsession with Tinguely began as a textiles student in 1982, when he attended a retrospective of his work.

“I was completely inspired by the whole event, by all these machines pogo-ing and dancing,” he recalls.

“You could ride them, you could make abstract drawings with them, you could throw balls in and they’d come out the other end.

“It was more like a fair than a gallery.

“As a student when you see something like that it’s a real revelation to you about the possibilities of art.”

Since Break Down, Landy lives a more spartan life, with far fewer than 7,226 personal belongings, and has regular clear-outs of items he has accumulated.

“But I do own a toothbrush,” he quips.

JOYOUS MACHINES: Michael Landy and Jean Tinguely, co-curated by Laurence Sillars, opens at Tate Liverpool today and runs until January 10. Tickets £6 (concs £4.50), 0151 702 7400.