Michael’s inimitable ink, sepia and watercolour History of Architecture drawings on peerless Watman’s paper, would grace my father’s desk for after-dinner-marking. Michael, as yet unseen by me, was this mythical being, this deaf student who could create such magic. I was enchanted and wanted nothing more than to study this history. Only by studying Architecture would that be possible. The rest, you could say, is history!
Many years later, Michael expressed his gratitude for my father’s support and his after lecture explanations of the slides that had been shown in the dark. After one of his visits to Italy, Michael gave my father a charming small watercolour painting of a street market in Rome in acknowledgment.
I probably first met Michael at the annual final year party at my parent’s house. I was struck by his good looks, his height and his shyness, as well as my own terror of not being able to understand him and having to remember that one needed not to shout but to enunciate words clearly for him to understand what was being said. How frustrating that must have been for him, though he never showed it.
As time passed, I became increasingly aware of his wonderful buildings – rough plastered, thick walled, shuttered houses in particular. Michael’s versatility was shown in the amazing variety of his projects. The Goodman House, curvilinear in plan, with its brick walls rising Zimbabwe-like out of the rocks, the complex vaults and Cycldian island quality of the Gage House...
