of August. 1959.
cartoonist, illustrator and novelist.
Christie, married 2001
Nov. 1, 2002 and Iris born
June 14, 2005
An article on David Huggins
& Marc Quinn: here.
Here are some of David's comments
about his parents in an interview
in The Guardian, Nov. 14, 2001:
little in common besides their careers and a sense of humour, my mother
and father divorced when I was three, but for the remainder of my
childhood, they appeared to get along surprisingly well. ...
no desire to stand out from the crowd, I kept quiet about my parents'
work when I started school. It helped that my father acted under the
name of Jeremy Brett, and my mother under her maiden name, Anna Massey.
... Among classmates, then, my own background seemed happily drab by
comparison. My mother was a working single parent, but she mostly acted
in the theatre in the evenings so we could spend the days together, and
she turned jobs down if they conflicted with school holidays. My father
took me out every weekend, and we'd often visit actor friends who had
children of my age.
was a degree of camaraderie among the offspring of actors, and I soon
came to appreciate my own parents' relative normality.
my father presented me with a motorbike for my 18th birthday, my
parents happened to be working together on a television adaptation ofRebecca.
My mother was so angry with him that they ignored each other for the
entire filming. At the time, I took my father's side, but now my
sympathies lie more with my mother. It was the first time they'd fallen
out openly, and the row pinpointed the fact that they were, by nature,
opposites. My mother is cerebral, cautious and organised, while my
father was intuitive and impulsive. I suspect that the easy rapport
they seemed to share when I was a child might be due to the fact that
they were professional actors as well as caring parents. I can still
hear them battling out their differences in my head: my father urging
me to take risks; my mother advising me to think things through.
Noel Coward wrote In The Noel
Coward Diaries of the
seven-year-old David: 13th
August 1967 - Last night we dined with Adrianne and Bill and
played the hiding game. The evening was ruined for us by dear little
David who gave an exhibition of infant megalomania which was nauseating
and went on relentlessly all through dinner. Bill was enraptured
throughout, but Adrianne after a while got the message and tried to
shut the little beast up, but with no success. He is a flagrant example
of the 'children should be seen and not heard' theory. It isn't
entirely the poor little bugger's fault, of course. Bill and Adrianne
spoil him outrageously. Personally I should have liked to cleave his
winsome little blond head in two with a meat axe. Unfortunately there
wasn't one handy. I owe the fact that I have been virtually clamped to
the loo all day entirely to him. He overstimulated my spastic colon
into a state of gibbering hysteria. (From page 654. Many
thanks to Piggy0024 for bringing this to light!)
Stephen Fry's autobiography The Fry Chronicles, two very brief mentions
of a promising young man he knew in Cambridge by the name of Dave
Huggins. Along with a brief mention of his rather famous mum and dad:
the exception of one of our number we would have looked like, to an
outside observer, as prize a parcel of punchably pompous and
buttoned-up arseholes as ever was assembled in one place. The exception
was a bondage-trousered, leather-jacketed, henna-haired youth called
Dave Huggins. He looked like the kind of punk rocker you would cross
the King's Road in Chelsea to avoid. Despite being far and away the
friendliest and most approachable of our group he scared the hell out
of me and I think out of everybody else too. Something in my booming
voice and apparently confident manner seemed to appeal to him, however,
or amuse him at least, and he dubbed me the King.
all his forbidding street aspect, Dave had been to school at Radley,
one of the smarter public schools; in fact most of us in the English
literature intake had been privately educated.
Dave Huggins stopped me in
Walnut Tree Court one afternoon.
'"My mum's coming to see your play tonight."
she?" I was surprised. Dave wasn't in the drama world, and it seemed
odd for a parent to come to a production that her child wasn't in.
"Yeah. She's an actress."
consulted my memory to see if I could offer any data on an actress
called Huggins. It had no suggestions. "Er...well. That's nice."
"Yeah so's my dad."
"Might I know them?"
"Dunno. They both use acting names. She's called Anna Massey and he
calls himself Jeremy Brett."
Anna Massey, coming to see me in a play? Well not expressly to see me,
but coming to play that I was in.
"Your father won't be there as well, will he?"
"No, they're divorced. He's gay."
"Is he? Is he? I didn't...well, well. Goodness. Blimey. My word.
I tottered off, numb with excitment.
can purchase Fry's autobiograph from all good book shops or online at amazon.
Many thanks to ObsidianButterfly for autobiography extracts)
David's wedding, from page 243 of Anna Massey's autobiography:
of the happiest tales that I have to relate happened on 9 June 2001.
This is the day when David married Madeleine Christie….
Their wedding day was the joyous occasion that you would
At the time they lived in Jeremy's old penthouse in Clapham, and Maddie
had decorated the entire apartment herself, softly coloured ribbons
twisted around the banisters, beautiful mobiles were suspended from the
ceilings and there were flowers in every corner, imaginatively
arranged. Guests wandered through all the rooms and on to the roof
garden, and as dusk descended, soft lights gave an added glow to the