A Salute to 'Humph'

I felt the need to record the death of Humphrey Lyttelton yesterday. It probably seems a bit strange but our whole family feels slightly bereft...

My Dad used to go to his Jazz club in London in the 1950s, and continued to follow his career with a remote but affectionate interest.

When I needed a project for my cultural history dissertation, I chose the Beaulieu Jazz Festivals in the late 1950s, and early 1960s (fascinating time with so many cultural influences, but I’ll save that till another time). Humph was at the festivals and the ‘Beaulieu riots’ where a trumpet was stolen, but later returned, and people threw paper plates at the stage*. I read lots of his writings and reminiscences of the time, and grew very fond of this intensely private, wry and astute man, a lovely counterbalance to the ebullience of George Melly, another great character and chronicler of the period.

My 15 year old kids are also a bit sad. They knew him as the quizmaster on I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue, and are wondering if anyone could possibly step into his shoes. I suspect not really … so another inevitable case of the world moving on to the next thing.

So, here is a three minute celebration of Humphrey Lyttelton before the world moves on.



* this was a British festival after all...