I read somewhere that Richard Hickox hated being called “cherubic.” Consequently, I used to mutter “cherubic” “cherubic” as he came to the podium. It was a joke rather than a device to cause offence, and I never said it that loudly. It’s unlikely he will have have heard me, even though I mostly sat in the middle of the front row about a metre or so away from him.
No chance that he will hear me now. News reached me about an hour ago that he died yesterday of a heart attack, aged 60. That’s a shock.
Impertinent to say more now.
