In Memoriam – Paul Benwell

Paul Benwell died at the end of last year. He first joined the Wynkyn de Worde Society in 1998, was our Chairman in 2005, and Honorary Luncheon Secretary from 2015 until just last year. The Society meant a huge amount to him, and he to it. Several of us went to his memorial service in October, and the love and affection displayed for him there was quite wonderful. Here are a few memories of Paul from members of the Society.

Robin & Phyllida Smeeton

Paul was a wonderful supporter of the Society. Not only was he Chairman (2005), he was Honorary Luncheon Secretary (2015–2023). He organised luncheons and was responsible for memorable Christmas parties. He was always there as a supporter and did not hesitate to pitch in and help with anything which had to be done. He also became a friend and we have great memories of things that we all did together, including spending the day at HMS Victory at Portsmouth – I have a photograph of us all there on my study wall. His skill as a craftsman was impressive and he made a ‘50’ for our golden wedding, which will stay on or mantlepiece for as long as we are about. He was generous with his friendship and his time, and we already miss him not being around.

Becky Chilcott

Mr Benwell would always greet me with the biggest smile, bow and call me Madam Chair. In response, I would always curtsey – I don’t know why, but I did, and we’d both laugh. I think of him doing this every time I walk into Stationers’ Hall, laugh to myself and remember him, his humour and his wonderful array of bowties fondly. 

Colin McHenry

In 2005 Paul asked me to be his honorary designer whilst he was Chairman, and it was suggested we meet up for supper in a little restaurant in Soho. John Miles joined us, so I was in the company of two of kindest gentlemen you could hope to be with. The evening went well – with a lovely meal and the design requirements gradually taking shape. I thought I would offer a joke, advising them that I had seen the future: garlic bread! Now you have to remember this is nearly twenty years ago, and Peter Kay was new to the scene. It looked as if they had never heard of him, so they thought I was such a witty chap. I often wondered if they knew of Peter Kay, and were just being polite. I never did get to explain to them…

Martin Morgan

In the middle of my year as Chair I was standing in the ante room at The Art Workers’ Guild, glass in hand, secure in the knowledge that I had a great speaker lined up – when Paul arrived at my elbow.

“Slight problem” says he.

“Slight problems always easily surmountable” say I. “Whats up?”

“Er… (long pause of comedic length) I’ve forgotten to book the hall”

“But we are here – drinking – Wynkyning – having a lovely time”

“Yes, absolutely, but we can’t move into the hall for the lecture, its already full.”

While the blood drained from my face, our ever efficient and Hon. Luncheon Secretary, shaken to his core, disappeared for some tense negotiations, reappearing five minutes later to announce that we only had to convince our fellow members that they had to drink for an extra half hour and all would be well. Our slight problem was  solved entirely through the full force of PB’s charm. The membership not noticing that it was more like three quarters of an hour, the lecture was a great success and the questions necessarily very brief. My only problem? Trying to get Paul to stop apologising. He mentioned it every time I saw him subsequently. But seriously, who could ever be angry with a charmer as lovely as Paul? So greatly missed.

Peter Danckwerts

Paul always brightened the room when he entered, and this was equally true when he was fighting serious illness. He was a wonderful person and a wonderful Luncheon Secretary and he will be much missed.

Judith Bastin

At the AGM in 2015, Paul Benwell took over as Luncheon Secretary, much to my relief. He kindly invited me as his guest to the January lunch so, as he said 'That way you will be able tell me first hand and list my failings without benefit of pen, paper or keyboard.’ Of course, he had no problem with his new rôle. 

Paul was a great friend to all and to me also. He always greeted me with a big smile and a hug – always making me feel he was pleased to see me. That was the way he was. Always welcoming. Mostly he asked ‘How’s your Mum?’, as we shared our stories of our mothers in their last years, both of us managing the parent/child roles being reversed. He was a great support to me.

Around the same time as my husband Philip, Paul was diagnosed and had surgery – their diagnoses were similar. Paul would ring and ask ‘Is he doing better than me?’, but then the calls stopped. I’m exceedingly fortunate Philip has been given the all clear, but it has been much tempered by the news about Paul.

I miss his cheerful greeting at Wynkyn de Worde events. He had a wonderful sense of humour, and a tremendous joie de vivre. I can’t believe he is no longer with us.

RIP dear friend.

Sue Dunk

Before I started helping Paul out as Deputy Luncheon Secretary I was one of those members who always left it to the last minute to book, usually sending in my form days after the cut-off point for booking. I don’t know if Paul did the eye-rolling and tutting to himself that I now find myself doing on receiving those late bookings (!) but he never made me feel I was being a nuisance – he was nothing but friendly and seemingly grateful to receive my booking, reassuring me it was ‘no problem at all’, even though (as I now know), it would have meant grovelling to the caterers and possibly even a re-jig of the seating plan…

The words that come to mind when I think of Paul are overwhelmingly positive: cheerful, jolly, convivial, smiley, good-natured, sociable, companionable, humorous, jovial, spirited, vivacious, twinkly, fun-loving, considerate, gentle (and gentlemanly), sunny, upbeat, optimistic…

He was definitely a ‘glass half-full’ person, looking on the bright side of life and making the most of every situation. I accepted the post as Paul’s deputy with some trepidation, not at all sure I could do the job anywhere near as efficiently as he had for so many years, even on the temporary basis it was supposed to be, while he recuperated from his big operation. But Paul was so supportive and generous with his time and advice that I never felt overwhelmed or out of my depth, even when his failing health meant more responsibility for me. It is such a privilege to step into Paul’s shoes and if I am doing an okay job it is because I had the best teacher.

RIP Paul, my mentor and my friend.

Alistair Hall

I first met Paul through his printing firm, Benwell Sebard. I was a student at Central Saint Martins, and in 2002 Benwells were recommended to us when we were looking for a printer for our degree show catalogue. Paul, together with his second in command, Paul Haslam, helped us to create a fantastic printed catalogue. To keep costs down, they invited twenty of us to go in and hand-bind the catalogues at their print facility. It must have been more than a little inconvenient to have a motley crew of students milling about, but Paul was unfailingly welcoming and supportive. (The catalogue went on to get a D&AD Wooden Pencil, largely thanks to the innovative cover, printed with a scratch-off silver foil.) Paul’s warmth, wit and friendship was just as much in evidence when I joined the Society, where he was a gentle, calm and assured Honorary Luncheon Secretary. When it came time for my turn as Chair, he was ready with advice and encouragement, and made me feel far more confident in my decisions. A deeply lovely, charming and thoughtful man.

Paul wrote to me when I was Chair to tender his resignation as Honorary Luncheon Secretary, and this portion from his letter demonstrates the pleasure he took from the Society:

“My 25 years as a member have brought me immense joy. The mantra of the Society that we are ‘kindred spirits’ has given me the opportunity to meet and enjoy the company of so many splendid and talented people. To mention those who stand out would be like reciting the Members’ Handbook, so I shall restrict myself to saying I have enjoyed the Committee lunches as much as anything. Perhaps we could invent a superlative for ‘kindred’ to accurately describe these gatherings… To all the Chairmen and Officers who have gone before me, and to those who will steer the the future; thank you, good health, happiness and another glass of wine please!”