Andi Noble
Andi was a wonderful person in many ways. I feel very lucky to be his son, and to have spent so much time with him. This is a long piece because I wanted to capture a lot of my memories of him, in the possibly vain hope that doing so will keep those memories alive for longer. Distilling a shared 40 years (20 living under the same roof) is tricky, so I’ve decided to write about him here in terms of the many active interests he had and shared with me: Sporting, Playing, Reading, Listening, Cooking, Walking, Gardening, Creating, Traveling, Caring/Loving, Teaching, Connecting, and Resting.
Note: I wrote this in a few different sittings. Throughout Andi’s illness I would often find myself awake at night crafting corny/awful themed obituaries about him. “Caught and bowled by cancer” (erm…). I came up with the structure and started some writing in late June/early July 2023, shortly after he had passed. I wrote a fair amount in August 2023, at a couple of Delilah’s swim meets. Then work and life got in the way, so I finished up in February and then June 2024.
Sporting
Andi was a true amateur sportsman – a lover of sports. His parents had a big influence here. John was a keen sportsman too, and coached Andi to win the slow-bike race at school. Andi grew up playing tennis (Norah still loves to watch Wimbledon), badminton, and squash. Andi was still a mean “badders” player well into his cancer treatment. He passed this love on to our dear friend Matt Collins in particular, who now plays twice weekly and has started a large regular group. It’s quite something to see what Matt’s built.
Andi loved football and passed that passion/curse on to me. In a classic “dads and lads” fashion, we’ve probably spent too much time talking about football instead of talking about our feelings. I’ll miss discussing the latest games, tactical innovations, and up-and-coming players with him. When I visited him back in March we were able to watch some England games together. I was a happy boy! Andi supported Manchester City as a kid, though probably felt more connected to Leeds United in later life. He took me to Leeds games and to the open top bus parade in City Square when they won the First Division Championship parade in 1992. His life-long friend Jon Pearson—cursed to be Leeds a fan, and decades-long season-ticket holder—probably had a role in this, despite growing up in Manchester with Andi. Andi also supported the school teams I played for, taking on a coaching role with the unparalleled Paul Eubanks[1] at Leopold Primary, and often turning up to watch the Allerton Grange teams.
He also loved playing the beautiful game. He was most associated with the anarchist-socialist pub team Republica Highland (solid punning there), based out of The Highland pub, and later Republica Internationale.[2] The new base of The Cardigan Arms didn’t offer up the same opportunities for wordplay. Republic were anti-racist, inclusive, and had one of the first women’s pub teams back in the late 1990s. I remember going to watch them play against Leeds United in the women’s FA Cup, on Soldier’s Field no less, as there were so few women’s teams back then. The team had lots of cool lefty types connected to it, including members of the bands Chumbawamba and the Stiff Little Fingers. Andi would take me along to the training sessions, and I later played for the Republica second team. We were pretty rubbish, but the legend that is Lee Goodyear and I had a good thing going on either wing at one point.
Republica were part of a network of lefty/anti-racist teams from around Britain and the World that held great football tournaments with camping, communal food, great parties, and tons of footy. Andi and I shared some great moments at these events, including one Republica hosted up on the moors near Halifax (along with Lee Crawfurd and Matt Collins), and at the 2006 Alternative World Cup[3] in Italy (near Bologna, with Eli Keeble, Dave Brittan, Rob Cook et. al, and cheered on by Juliet and Dot), where Republica progressed to the quarters. Republica won an award for services to the anti-racist football network. We were dancing on stage like we’d won the actual World Cup!
Andi was also a keen cricketer and played for Cambridge Methodists for many years (20-over games on Wednesdays, 40-over games on Saturdays). He developed a devilish off-spin and was a decent batter. I played a bit at times and have great memories of going and hanging out at the grounds, helping roll the pitch, scoring, and generally larking about on the boundary. The team was a real melting pot of different characters: card-carrying communists played with right-wing Tory backbenchers; proper Yorkshire lads played with Indian students. Cricket can be good for that at times. Andi was particularly known for his teas. (For the uninitiated, cricket games usually feature a meal for players between each innings.) He would often spend hours on Friday evenings deep-frying homemade veggie samosas to serve the next day’s match.
Most importantly, though, was Andi’s sporting integrity; his commitment to fair play. Cricket can be good for that too. Batters should really walk if they think they’re out, despite what the umpire says. Andi had an innate commitment to this idea. He always saw the bigger picture. Winning or losing was secondary to having fun and enjoying the game. To him, contesting a dodgy call or arguing over some perceived slight was silly. None of it really mattered. It was just a game.
Playing
Speaking of games, Andi loved to play them. Train trips were never boring. Andi would unerringly have a deck of cards on hand, along with his handmade cribbage scoring board. “15-2, 15-4, a pair makes six, and one for his knob”. We played lots of 99 and 21 too. On trips to Pardshaw Hall in the Lake District with friends and family, Andi would pretty much run the kids’ evening entertainment, playing endless games of Hero Quest, Monopoly, and Trivial Pursuit with Rosa Blackwell, Jake Blakey, Chris Rivers, Rosie Rivers, Holly Barwick and more up in the school room, or rounders between the gravestones. Fun times!
I remember Andi creating elaborate mystery games on holiday with Steve Barwick up in Staithes (on the North Yorkshire coast). These inspired the endless murder mystery games Rosa, me, and others would make up and play at Pardshaw and Laurieston Hall in Scotland. Andi was always buying random board games or finding obscure things to play with. Andi and Tom Cadbury would often engage over slightly random gadgets, devices, or activities. I was pretty lucky to spend my early years with them as unemployed young adults. I remember Lego-car races down a big wooden slide we had, lots of games of garam/carroms, climbing frames made out of tipi poles in our garden, and birthday party haunted houses built out of the many rooms in our shared house.
Andi enjoyed “circus skills”, and got me into juggling, devil sticks, and diablos. We took part in a couple of world records for the largest number of jugglers at the Glastonbury Festival. Andi wasn’t a performer, and yet if there was a cabaret night at a holiday event, he would always contribute with something fun or interesting. One memorable example is from an orchestra trip to Northern Spain. Andi encouraged a group of us to create the illusion of water being drunk at one end of a line and passing along each person before being spat out at the end.
Andi loved playing music. He learned to play a number of different musical instruments to a half-decent level, but mostly (it seemed) so that he could play with other people. He would often push me to play chords along to the Irish tunes he was learning on guitar or mandolin. He and Juliet got into playing recorders and penny whistles for a while (much to the amusement of Jessica Prager!). He and Juliet also enjoyed performing “He’ll Have To Go”, with all the innuendo that involved (“Put your sweet lips a little closer to the phone…”).
Andi always enjoyed the Guardian crossword, especially the cryptics. He loved the wordplay, and the challenge of cracking the puzzles. For many years this was a solo effort, but in recent years Juliet, Matt C, and myself (when available) joined in. With Andi, this was relaxing and fun: periods of intense quiet, interspersed with suggested answers and bad jokes. Just like his attitude to sport, he wasn’t so bothered about completing the puzzle. I know that Juliet and Andi continued to work on crosswords together throughout his illness. Towards the end, it was one of the few games he could still play.
Reading
Andi read widely. He was a regular at local libraries and usually had three or four books checked out at a time. (Once, Juliet was collecting some books for him, and the librarian asked, “Does he actually read all these books?” He really did!) This reflected his true curiosity about the world, especially but definitely not limited to philosophy, history, politics, and art. He was as widely read in fiction as any of the authors I know, and probably more broadly read on academic concepts than most of the academics I know.
He loved sharing these ideas with other people. I was the happy beneficiary of this broad knowledge in many ways. Andi would set me general knowledge/trivia quizzes most days after school, on the blackboard he made and installed in our kitchen. He introduced me to many interesting ideas, including his particular interest in the political theory of French anarchists such as Pierre-Joseph Proudhon—“Property is Theft”!—or American transcendentalists such as Henry David Thoreau. To sound smart, I referenced Proudhon in my university application letter. Luckily, it turned out that the theory of anarchy is at the heart of the International Relations theory; this can’t have hurt my application.
Norah told me that as a young man, Andi would read the dictionary for hours on end, searching through the etymologies. Thanks to this, I know the origin of random phrases such as “fork out” (medieval tax collection) and “caught red-handed” (medieval punishment for illegal butchery).
Listening
Andi was a great listener. He cared about what you had to say and engaged with it. He was particularly engaged when the issue was a shared passion, but he was respectful and attentive when it was outside of his wheelhouse or something that he didn’t agree with. I no doubt bored him many times with stories of work projects, petty grievances, or parenting challenges. But only the keenest observer would have known that based on Andi’s reactions, which were usually supportive. He wasn’t the kind to reach out. I don’t recall him ever phoning me. But when he was home and free, he was always happy to talk. More recently we fell into a pattern of Saturday calls (early morning here, early afternoon there) as I walked Rudy and/or Callum. These would often regress to talk of sport or politics, but I miss sharing the other stuff too.
Andi also enjoyed listening to music. Growing up he shared an interest in progressive rock (King Crimson, Yes, early Genesis, ELP etc…) with Jon Pearson, and to go by his record collection he also enjoyed the punk and reggae bands of his late-1970s/early 1980s youth. On our many trips to Glastonbury Festival, we would usually go to the cabaret stage to watch the somewhat random collection of musicians, comedians, and other random performers there. Attila the Stockbroker was pretty good (though most of it went over my head), but John Otway was the best. At the time, he was still living off his one hit single, “Really Free”, which reached number 27 in the UK charts in 1977. Otway’s live show was a random hodgepodge of old B-sides (such as “Beware of the Flowers ‘Cause I’m Sure They’re Going to Get You, Yeh”, which was voted as the 7th greatest lyric of all time in a 1999 BBC poll), stage-dives onto empty stages, headbutting the microphone (“I gave ‘im an ‘edbutt”), hitting drum machine pads hidden in jeans pockets, making weird noises with a theremin, and heavy metal guitar solos by his right-hand man, Richard.
Andi was also attracted to other quirky, homemade music, stuff like Robert Wyatt or They Might Be Giants, or the radio shows of BBC DJs like Andy Kershaw or John Peel. He also really appreciated Juliet’s choir, the Bradford Women Singers, and his friends’ groups like the Peace Artistes. That said, the music that makes me think of Andi the most is Nick Drake and John Martyn; autumnal and sombre, gentle, and beautiful music. (Despite being gentle and beautiful, Andi himself wasn’t particularly autumnal or sombre, but it still reminds me of him. Juliet still has the 3 LP box set of Nick Drake Andi bought as a student and couldn’t really afford.) More recently, Andi loved sharing music suggestions with his dear friends Roger Selwyn and Mike Barrett, burning CDs to share for birthdays and holidays.
Cooking
Andi was a great cook of vegetarian food. He cooked most days and loved sharing his food with others. I picture him most in our kitchen, cooking away with Radio 4 on in the background. He liked cooking for groups, especially before some sort of gathering that would also take place in the kitchen. I’m thinking of family gatherings, games nights with Matt, Jon, and Bill, or the many happy times Matt would call around.
As his allotment garden became more established, he grew more of the food he ate. Andi would cook the food himself once he’d tried something new, whether at a restaurant (which he didn’t enjoy so much and would usually go once before recreating the meals himself) or in a new country. He seemed to enjoy cooking and eating Indian food the most (if he didn’t make it himself, a trip to Bobby’s or Anand’s had been made). Norah’s older brother had served in India during World War II, and brought some of the spices back with him, and Andi will have learned some of those recipes from Norah. However, I think that Juliet’s Indian grandmother Gwen taught Andi the main stuff. Fry some spices in ghee first, add in onions, ginger, and garlic, and then start building up the sauce. When Andi was younger, he would take a load of rice and lentils to festivals and pay his way by selling rice and dhal.
Some memorable meals Andi made include: Eggy bread while camping, elaborate stuffed breads and veggie roasts at Christmases, Sosmix sausages and meatballs (with fry-ups, in sandwiches, or with tomato sauces), homemade quiche and chips, spaghetti aglio olio e peperoncino, artichokes from his allotment, various cheesecakes and banoffee pies (thanks Isaac for the memory!), potato salad, fried egg and chips, frittatas, tagine, deep-dish pizza, runner beans in tomato sauce, falafel in pita (with all the trimmings), and various Indian curries, samosa, bhaji, and pakora.
Walking
Andi did a lot of walking. I think he enjoyed the ability to connect with nature and with people. I guess he caught the walking bug from his parents. They both loved the Lake District, would holiday there regularly, and retired to nearby Ulverston to be wardens at Swarthmore Hall (the “birthplace of Quakerism”) after John’s first heart attack. As a family, they would often holiday at Glenthorne, a Quaker guest house in Grasmere. Andi wouldn’t really talk about places in this way, but I suspect Grasmere wouldn’t be far from his “happy place”/”spiritual home”. The path up Helm Crag (aka the “Lion and the Lamb” or the “Old Woman Playing the Organ”, depending on your perspective) wasn’t far away, and you could make it up to the top in less than an hour (though maybe not to the summit, which Wainwright suggested was the hardest to scale).
Andi’s other special place was Pardshaw, an old Quaker meeting house and graveyard up in the north Lakes, near Loweswater and Cockermouth. We would visit Pardshaw regularly, including a week-long trip in the summer, with some combination of Helen, Rosa, Holly and Bill, Bill Walton, the Blakeys, Chris and Rosie Rivers, Karen, Maya and Ben, and many others. In the evenings, we would dine together at the long tables, play games around the large fireplace (or up in the school room), and play rounders around the gravestones. During the day, Rosa and I were pretty committed to not walking up hills, preferring the more leisurely pursuits of swimming in the river and getting hot chocolate from the Kirkstile Inn. Andi was all about the walks – usually with Bill Walton, Ben Williams (in his shorts back then!), and anyone else who would tag along. Only Andi could tell you how many Lakeland Fells he’d climbed (again, it was the journey that mattered), but the names Skiddaw, Scafell, Helvellyn, Blencathra, Melbreak, and the Langdales (where John’s ashes were scattered) all come to mind. He loved reading Wainwright’s guides, and planning out walks in detail using Ordnance Survey maps the night before. In his last days, Andi had a feeling of restlessness that is common for cancer patients at that stage. During his last night, he seemed quite agitated, so Juliet had him think of lying in the grass at Pardshaw, looking out over the valley. This really calmed him down.
Closer to home, Andi would run and walk around the parks of Leeds, especially Gledhow Valley Woods, and Meanwood Valley/the Hollies. Barka the dog used to accompany him. (It sounds like his childhood dog Bruce would pretty much walk himself.) When Andi finally got Juliet into running, they would go on impressive expeditions around and about Leeds and the surrounding countryside.
Juliet and Andi would also go on more adventurous walking holidays, most memorably to the Alps, around Mont Blanc, and recently to Skye (not long before his diagnosis). On their visits to us in California, Juliet and Andi would often walk around different LA neighborhoods, or among the nature of Yosemite, Big Sur, San Francisco, and Big Bear. Lauren’s dad Robert took Andi, Juliet, and his sister Meg up Mount Baldy (with Andi later returning the favor in the Lakes). During Andi’s last trip, they got to see more of the Pacific Northwest, including Washington, Oregon, and Montana. While our trip to Glacier Park didn’t work out due to wildfires, we shared some great walks with Lauren, Delilah, and Robert, as well as Bill and Becky, our lovely Helena hosts. Further back, on a six-month trip to India, I have memories of Andi walking the beaches of Goa, the foothills of the Himalayas, and the banks of the Ganges, all in his lungi.
During his illness he continued to walk, albeit very slowly, around Chapel Allerton Park and the Allotment. He told me he was happy to be stronger than some of his friends. He impressed the physical therapist by being able to stand up on his own and walk up and down steep stairs in his last weeks. It was almost miraculous to see his skeleton-like frame float up to a standing position after he calmly and determinedly manoeuvred his limbs into position.
Gardening
I suspect a lot of people who knew him will think of gardening when they think of Andi. In recent years, he spent a lot of time at his allotment. His dad and uncle were keen gardeners, but this started for Andi when he took over our neighbour’s half plot, and he developed it over the years to a full plot including two self-built polytunnels (one of which is dug into the ground) and a small orchard. This allotment has produced lots of potatoes, carrots, onions, garlic, spring onions, cottager’s kale (and various other greens), various herbs, tomatoes, tomatillos (inspired by trips to California), peppers, and even lemons! Delilah was a particular fan of the blackberries, raspberries, or strawberries, depending on which bit of summer we would make it to. Apparently, the gooseberries inherited from said neighbour were rare and won a prize at the famous Tatton Park garden show! Artichokes were grown following a reminder of their greatness by Lauren Movius. Andi gradually developed his skills and knowledge through plenty of reading, trial and error, and guidance from the oracle, Helen Blackwell. Last year he even appeared on the BBC show Gardener’s World! He stepped up to be actively involved in the allotment’s Distribution Centre.
Our gardens at 16 Sholebroke Avenue and 8 Woodland View were both great places to grow up in. Andi built me a great tree house at Sholebroke, which I somehow managed to fall out of. We also had chickens in our back garden there, until the local fox got them. I think Andi even built some kind of greenhouse up on the roof there. At Woodland View, the back garden was about a quarter of the size, but Andi has left a beautiful deck he designed and crafted (with help from Jos) with radial patterns that are reflected in the lattice work around it, and the circular ponds made from old cast iron pots he found at a scrap yard (and were bloody heavy to lug into the car!). On our summer trips over, we would often eat out there in the evening, or host parties for family and friends. Happy times. Andi was able to enjoy the back garden during his last weeks, sunning himself in a comfy lounger.
Creating
Andi was a creative soul. He loved to tinker and build stuff. In addition to the garden structures, he built an electric bike out of a frame he found in Gledhow Valley. Our cellar was a mess of scrap materials, old projects, and prototypes. (I remember someone from his Art Masters course commenting: “he just loves to make stuff, doesn’t he!”) He also built our bathroom and kitchen (with Juliet), the kitchen table, refurbished our attic (with help from Jos), and painted the house in whacky colours. Speaking of which, he was red-green colourblind. Not great for an artist, but I like to think that he saw everything in 1970s sepia tones.
Perhaps because of these two things, Andi seemed to most often create art that was either largely black-and-white line drawings or conceptual 3-D sculptures. For his Foundation course at Jacob Kramer, he created an immersive experience (not dissimilar from the haunted house). I remember passing little beer des moulins bottles out to the participants through a little shop window Andi had created. I also recall a piece that depicted the Egyptian pyramids. (He had searched all around for a packet of Camel cigarettes to include the camel silhouette logo!) It stated that the pharaohs had built them to achieve immortality, and as they crumbled to dust, they were a “monument to a fool”. For me, this combines Andi’s wit with his love of history and philosophy.
A few years later, for his undergraduate fine art degree, Andi created a 3-D sculptures, one like a penny slot machine and another machine with red snooker balls that appeared to magically turn blue as they passed through. I’m not sure of the particular concepts behind these works. For his MA, Andi created a “selfish gene machine” based on Richard Dawkins’ book on evolutionary biology. Participants would place loads of colored balls onto a rail system, and these would slowly descend the tracks forming beautiful unique patterns.
A few years later, Andi started entering works to the Light Night Art Festival in Leeds with Matt Collins. In their first piece, the audience, sat in complete darkness, watched as luminescent balls descended invisible tracks on a stage. This gave the slightly spooky effect of the balls floating in weird formations somewhere in the distance. We were living in London at the time, and so got to see the piece, and Andi and Matt’s amusement as they discussed the next year’s project, which featured a pendulum wave of LED-lighted swinging spheres set to electronically-generated music Matt had created using mathematical functions.
Andi also occasionally wrote poems and songs. In Year 7 English, my class had to write a poem for homework. Andi was excited about this and wrote a poem on my behalf about the French nuclear testing program in the South Pacific called “Hit the road, Jacques”. As Andi took his cues from folk like Kurt Schwitters, Ivor Cutler, Ken Campbell, Stewart Lee, and George Melly,[4] it’s no surprise that the poem did not rhyme, much to the amusement/bewilderment of my teacher and classmates. I remember one of the songs Andi wrote, this time about elephants crossing the Transvaal in South Africa. I’ve no idea why or how he came up with this topic, but it was a funny, jaunty waltz.
Traveling
Andi enjoyed traveling and finding new places to explore. Andi’s parents had been fairly adventurous for their times. In addition to their Lake District trips, Andi’s family would sometimes go across to France or to Cornwall. Norah’s older brothers had all served in WWII and brought back tales of life in Italy, India, and North Africa. Andi visited them all, the first two with me.
Most of our trips in England were to the Lakes (to Ulverston, Grasmere, or Pardshaw). We also went on great camping trips, including to Lumb Falls near Hebden Bridge. Andi would keep things fun, building fires, cooking eggy bread (aka French toast), or juggling. Andi obtained or built a few different wacky tents to take to festivals. In his 20s he built/sewed both a marquee and a tipi, and ended up giving them away at different Festivals. (We later spotted the tipi he had made at Glastonbury Festival.) Later, for a Big Green Gathering in the mid-1990s (shout out to Dan Lewer and the homemade toothbrush!), Andi built a geodesic dome out of ash saplings he cut down in Gledhow Valley Woods (in a copse near little Switzerland). For Glastonbury ‘98, Andi built a marquee big enough fit us and Dan, Lee Crawfurd, and Isaac Buckton (Corinne Bannister and Amy Lindh came with us but sensibly had their own tent). One problem was that the central pole came in two pieces and weighed a ton. The second problem was the lack of a ground sheet and the heavy rain created streams between our sleeping mats.
Often in the summer Juliet, Andi, and I would head over to somewhere on the continent, usually by train. When I was younger, they might divide and conquer, with Juliet taking me to something more kid-friendly like EuroDisney while Andi visited art galleries. Later, the trips would usually involve a detour to somewhere interesting, beautiful, or artistic in some way. I remember Andi introducing me to Seurat and other pointillists at some art gallery in France, “The Manneken Pis” and the Atomium in Brussels, the Lascaux caves, the Lourdes pilgrimage site in the Pyrenees, or Zermatt in the Alps (with Chris Rivers). Lauren joined us on a trip to Arles, a favourite spot of Van Gogh. I was looking through a book of the most influential architecture around the world, and Andi had taken me to most of the European buildings, including Le Corbusier’s Notre-Dame de Haut, which is in the middle of nowhere.
Andi had been more adventurous still, traveling across Canada by bus during a uni summer, and across Europe to the newly opened Czechoslovakia on an old Jawa 350 motorbike with Steve Barwick, who rode pillion. When I was two, he took me and chased the sun to the Canary Islands with Tom Cadbury, enjoying the nudist beaches (I suspect so that he didn’t have to bother with clothes). He and Juliet also took me to Corfu and later India (and Nepal) for six months when I was three. We started in Bombay (Mumbai), headed down to Goa, then across to Mysore (Mysuru), Bangalore (Bengaluru), Kerala, and Madras (Chennai), before going up to Calcutta (Kolkatta), Varanasi, Nepal, New Delhi, and Jaipur. I have memories—maybe implanted from slide shows and stories since?—of sorting rice with Juliet’s Great Aunt Dulce’s maid, riding in rickshaws, being scared by snake charmers, being scared by Holi paint throwers (once for the Nepalese version and then once for the Indian one), crossing the Ganges in a boat, and walking down some random dirt path just with Andi. Either way, it left a mark as when Beccy and I traveled there in 2003, I remember having a feeling of being at home when we arrived.
Teaching
Andi was a gifted teacher. I was possibly his first pupil. He focused on making learning fun, something which I still struggle with in my teaching. We played lots of games together and at one point he would set me a daily afterschool trivia quiz on the blackboard he installed in our kitchen. (With hindsight, that sounds like a teaching tool, but I think it was more to take notes!) That’s how I learned a fair amount of obscure facts and was undefeated in Allerton Grange legend Mr. Aldridge’s annual quiz.
Andi started teaching Maths to adult learners when I was young. I get the impression that it was intially a way to earn money, but he ended up doing that up until the cancer diagnosis. Andi had studied mining engineering at university, so had some background in Maths. He ended up often teaching folks who had hated Maths at school and needed to obtain particular certificates for their careers. He even taught some of my old school friends. His ability to make learning these basic concepts fun no doubt helped many others too. He also had a genuine passion for these ideas in Maths and would often explore ideas such as Bertrand Russell’s proof for 1+1=2 in Principia Mathematica, or the relationship between binary, metric, and other bases (or the weird imperial systems he grew up learning). This led to a moment in class when he was explaining why we use the metric system, which is largely because we have 10 digits. One student then held up their hands to reveal a missing finger.
Andi was also a regular grader of maths GCSE papers for a number of years, and later moved into teaching the “core skills” of English and Maths (aka literacy and numeracy) following some further teacher training he took at the University of Huddersfield along with Jon Pearson. This led to a long stint teaching literacy and numeracy at the Swarthmore Education Centre in Leeds. He also taught art at Swarthmore, including life drawing. This drew a different crowd. One art show for the life drawing class was held at Andi and Juliet’s house, and I remember talking with all sorts, from surgeons and executives to budding art students and retirees. They all loved the class and spoke so highly of Andi’s creativity in teaching, using many different techniques, media, and model poses. He even went above and beyond on occasion, disrobing when the model didn’t turn up.
Caring/Loving/Connecting
Andi was a very caring and loving person. I know he impressed Juliet by taking care of a friend from student halls who had drunk too much one night. It sounds like Andi had an early start with this as he helped take care of Norah’s mother when she came to live with them. No doubt this came from the love and care Norah and John provided to Ian and Andi. After John passed, Andi would often visit Norah up in Cumbria to help with odd jobs and provide additional care to her in more recent years. Andi and his brother Ian always got on well, and despite having quite different journeys, had a lot in common, including a love of cooking, travel, and even (at one point at least) the same favorite novel, E. M. Forster’s A Room with a View. They also both fell in love with strong, opinionated, and supportive life partners.
Andi was a wonderful parent to me. This whole piece is really about his wonderful parenting and our wonderful life together. But a few more things are important to add. He was usually home and around, cooking in the kitchen, reading in his bed, or working on some project in the cellar. When I was younger, he would read to me at night, but often quite grown-up stuff: American literature by Twain and Steinbeck, Sci-Fi by Adams, or Fantasy by Tolkein and Pratchett. He turned up to watch me play rugby and football games, gigs, musical recitals, and theatre stuff.
He also really enjoyed giving me freedom, of me going off and leading my life. He and Juliet’s old friend Andy West said something to the effect of “I think he quite liked the idea that he didn’t know what you were doing”. At our wedding (Lauren and me, that is), Andi gave a short impromptu speech (to be accurate: prepared, but without telling us in advance), where he celebrated the idea of two birds meeting and flying off together. I suspect that may have wanted to do something similar himself in a way. He later said that he quite liked the idea of the Hindu tradition of Sannyasa, where older folk renounce material desires and pursue spiritual endeavours. In some ways, he never got to experience that stage. In other ways, he’d been living that for years.
Andi always loved Lauren and her family. As a fellow bookworm, he loved chatting with Lauren about literature and was always impressed by how widely she had read. He loved us all visiting but took particular delight in growing artichokes for Lauren to eat in the summer. He always appreciated Lauren’s mother, Maureen, and her generous hospitality when they stayed in California. In fact, when Maureen came to visit Juliet and Andi in Leeds, he even cleaned the house and made the beds, a feat not repeated before or since! Lauren’s dad Robert had taken Juliet and Andi on a few “hikes” in Southern California, and so Andi was happy to guide Robert around some of the Lake District after he retired to England. Andi also really enjoyed visiting Robert’s family up in Montana for Peg’s memorial.
Andi adored Delilah and was a wonderful grandparent to her. They just got each other. They shared a natural connection and many interests. Whether together in person or over video calls, they would talk away about art, history, philosophy, politics, and language. Whenever we’d visit Leeds, they would almost immediately click into gear and start exploring a new art medium, writing a story, or playing a game. (Norah always said that the talent for art skips a generation in our family. Norah’s father had been a professional signwriter and an excellent painter, but she had never taken up the hobby. Art had never grabbed me, but Delilah is always drawing or painting something beautiful.) Delilah and Andi created some lovely art together through these times.
Andi and Callum didn’t get to spend much time together. The first time Andi met Callum--on the grass outside St. James’ hospital in Leeds—Callum almost immediately went and sat on Andi’s lap and then the two of them shared a little walk together. (I don’t think Andi had many regrets, but I do know that Andi would have liked to have spent more time with Delilah and Callum. Not long before the diagnosis, he and Juliet were talking a lot about stopping work and finding a way to spend time with them. Andi was really keen - he said ‘they need us’.) There remains a connection there, even if it is just in my head. When I hug Callum, I often feel like I'm Andi hugging me as a young child. It helps that Callum looks a lot like I did at his age. That makes me feel less sad about the two of them not being able to spend more time together - they both have that positive, kind, gentle, smiley, easy-going energy. Like Andi, Callum is a joy to be around.
Andi played important roles in the lives of lots of young people, including my friends, family, and friends’ kids. These interactions would often be in our kitchen, over dinner, or while playing games, but would also be on holidays, at festivals, or Quaker gatherings. I know he particularly appreciated Nicholas Grierson’s (Nicky to us) positive energy and superhuman ability to find space in a rugby defensive line, philosophical chats with Dan Lewer, Colin Hill, and Lee Crawfurd, Beefy’s off-the-wall humor, and Beccy Ashdown’s vivacity. At family gatherings, Andi would usually connect with (i.e. find something fun to do for) my cousins, or more recently their kids. These often overlapped with the Pardshaw and Glenthorne events discussed above. Andi helped babysit his friend Ianto’s daughter Holly and was close with his friend Joe Keogh’s[5] daughter Carmel. Andi and Juliet helped out with Joanna Leser’s daughter Louise on occasion (Andi loved Louise’s sparky character). Andi became a kind of uncle figure to Anya and Rohan, the children of our neighbours and close friends Tom and Genie, who were both incredibly supportive during Andi’s illness.
Of my friends, Andi became closest to Matt Collins. Juliet had known Matt’s mum Wendy for a while, and we went to some Woodcraft Folk (hippy scouts) events together. But Matt and I started hanging out a lot when I was around 14 or 15. Matt would often turn up just as Andi was serving dinner, a happy coincidence for all. Matt and I stayed close (we went off to LSE, sharing a room for a year, and both moved to the US, though opposite coasts) and when we were both back in Leeds, we would slip back into teenage patterns. I think they started hanging out more when Matt moved back to Leeds. This was around when the first Light Night art-making, badminton playing, and board gaming with Bill and Jon started. Matt would always make the effort to come by when Lauren, Delilah, and I visited, and I know he often called by Andi and Juliet’s for a cuppa, a chat, or a crossword.
Since Andi’s diagnosis, Matt has been an incredible source of support for Juliet, Andi, and me in different ways. Andi wasn’t really one to talk about his feelings, so I know how much he loved the normality of having friends come by and talk about the latest philosophical idea he’d been reading about or recent political shenanigans. (Shout out to Dan Lewer here too.) I know Juliet appreciated having Matt around through this time too. And for me, it was really helpful to have a different perspective on how Andi was doing and be able to talk things over. Thanks, Matt!
There are a few other friends I would like to mention here. Andi and Juliet were particularly close with Helen Blackwell (and her lovely and talented partner Bill), who Andi really looked up to (not least because of her expertise in gardening and fire building), and her daughters Rosa and Holly. They were both also close with Tom Cadbury, whom they met through Quakers, and lived with at Sholebroke Avenue for a while. Andi loved Tom’s fun and playful energy. I have lots of memories of them both getting excited while playing with toys and games.
Andi had a few friends that were his rather than his and Juliet’s, and two stand out. As far as I know, his oldest friend was Jon Pearson, the board gamer and Leeds United fan. Andi and Jon were neighbors growing up in Cheadle Hume and shared loves of progressive rock, football, and playing pool. Andi didn’t talk about his teenage years, other than references to a “misspent youth” on the pool tables. I would like to learn more from Jon about this time in his life.
Andi met Roger Selwyn in their first year at the University of Leeds and they shared a love of many things including literature, eclectic music, and art. They would take weekend trips to visit each other or go together to French cities, though Andi was banned from making hotel bookings after selecting an affordable little pension used for activities “de la nuit” as the French might say. Roger had very good French. The story goes that he once had an accident and was knocked out. When he came to, his French accent was so good that those helping him (the gendarmes?) would not believe he was English!
Of course, the person that Andi cared for, loved, and connected with most, is Juliet. They met as students through the Quaker group on campus and got together quickly. Given that they never married, my arrival probably cemented things. Beyond myself, some pets, and a home, they shared many other things too, including many good friends, lefty politics, Quaker upbringings and values, vegetarianism, environmentalism, frugality, and a love of music, travel, and walking. They had differences, but usually in ways that complemented each other. Energetic; restful. Homebody; out-and-about. Philosophical; practical. Passionate; calm. Mindful; expressive.
Resting
Andi was very good at resting, taking it easy. Much of this was due to his ulcerative colitis, which would flare up and leave him fatigued. He never made a big deal of it, but it must have had a significant impact on his life. This illness left him unable to work at times, and I was a lucky recipient of his regular presence at home. Upon arriving home from school, Andi would often be “having a lie down” (to use his turn of phrase) upstairs, dipping in and out of his library books. This somewhat stands in contrast to his active pursuits, though I suspect he needed the rest to be able to do those things.
Andi’s decades with ulcerative colitis seem to have presaged his cancer and prepared him for it. Between the diagnosis in the autumn of 2021 and his passing in June 2023, Andi was forced to rest. A lot. What first appeared as fatigue and stomach issues (nothing new) developed into jaundice. Following the diagnosis of bile duct cancer and repeated attempts to insert a stent into the affected area, Andi spent a lot of time in the hospital in late 2021. He then spent a lot of time recuperating and gaining strength at home before the surgeons made an attempt to remove the tumor in spring 2022. Unfortunately, the surgery proved too risky to perform, and a while later it became clear that chemotherapy and radiation were the best hopes of treatment. Throughout this time, in spite of occasional visits to St. James to treat the latest infection, Andi remained calm and clear that he wanted to follow the doctor’s recommendations and did everything asked of him with patience and good grace. Happily, Lauren, Delilah, Callum, and myself, were able to visit for 6 weeks in the summer of 2022, and then Delilah and I visited again in October.
Andi started chemotherapy in the summer of 2022, which appeared to be somewhat effective and had at least kept the tumor at bay. Thankfully Andi didn’t have any major side effects other than fatigue, though by the end of the course he was very tired. The radiation therapy that followed appeared to be much tougher on him. Andi again spent a lot of time resting in hospital in early 2023, before the determination that he would be moving to hospice care. Thanks to the impressive joined-up systems of care the NHS provides, Andi was able to spend most of this time at home. I was able to visit again by myself in spring 2023, and then with the family in June. During that second trip, Andi decided to move into St. Gemma’s Hospice. He passed on June 18th, 2023 a few days after we had flown back to California.
Endnotes
[1] https://www.yorkshireeveningpost.co.uk/news/opinion/yep-letters-january-15-152994;
[2] https://republica.international/
[3] https://republica.international/awc
[4] Andi memorized one of George Melly’s poems and performed it at several parties. He would often add this following story with it. “The jazz singer and art lover George Melly was fond of telling a story about when he was confronted by some thugs with broken bottles outside a Manchester club. Running not being much of an option for the rotund Melly, and fighting or negotiating still less so, he chose instead to give a recitation of the ‘Ursonate’, the avant garde sound poem composed by German artist Kurt Schwitters, of which this is a sample:
dll rrrrrr beeeee bö
dll rrrrrr beeeee bö fümms bö,
rrrrrr beeeee bö fümms bö wö,
beeeee bö fümms bö wö tää,
bö fümms bö wö tää zää,
fümms bö wö tää zää Uu
Utterly bewildered by this confrontation with the absurd, his would-be assailants slunk away into the night. Melly later recorded one minute of the piece for Morgan-Fisher’s magnificent 1980 compilation album Miniatures (definitely the subject of a future blog post), pointedly entitling it ‘Sounds That Saved My Life (Homage to K.S.)’. Listen, and quake.” Luke McKernan (2016) Kurt’s Barn. https://lukemckernan.com/2016/05/14/kurts-barn/
[5] Ianto owned the music store Knock on Wood and was a great drummer. Joe was a dealer in rare and antique books. Both were lovely people who also died too young from cancer.