Harry Brown, left, with his friend and colleague, trumpeter Matt Roberts.
It is with the greatest sadness that I sit here and write that my dear friend and former colleague, acclaimed trombonist, educator, conductor, composer and arranger Harry Brown, has died, aged 52.
Born in London in 1974, Harry was a devout Christian whose faith, family and community were central to his life. Playing what he beautifully describes in this video as the Jamaican National instrument, he studied for his master's at the Royal Academy of Music (RAM) and was made an Associate of RAM in May 2010 in recognition of his exceptional contribution to the music industry.
There wasn’t a genre Harry wasn’t comfortable in, from playing in the West End to the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Jazz Jamaica, McCoy Tyner, Adele, Massive Attack, Rudimental, John Legend, the list goes on and on!
Everyone has a Harry story
I know obituaries are supposed to talk about professional accomplishments and milestones. I hope it goes without saying that Harry was a remarkable trombone player, top of his game, and the number one call, but despite his prodigious professional accomplishments, it somehow feels reductive to just define him by these alone. As many have echoed, so much of his impact on the industry didn’t just come from those achievements, mighty as they were, but from who he was.
It feels insurmountable to sum up what Harry meant to me, or to the music community, but one thing that has come up again and again is that everyone has a Harry story.
Trombonist Trevor Mires said of meeting him at the Centre for Young Musicians: "Even at that young age, he carried himself with warmth, modesty, friendly humour and encouragement for others, and those qualities only grew stronger with age." That is Harry.
He was an encourager and an advocate, supporting and championing other musicians, particularly those finding their way in the profession. Harry was a mentor for underrepresented players in the industry and had a gift for spotting people standing on the edges and welcoming them in. He made you feel like you belonged and that you deserved to be there.
As trumpeter Matt Roberts recalled, a few words of encouragement from Harry at a rehearsal left him “feeling 10 ft tall” and were exactly what he needed to hear that moment, and Harry had a knack for that too!
Trombonist Nathaniel Cross reflected: "Harry remained unwavering in his support and encouragement of me”. He later came to share the stage with Harry, crediting those opportunities to "the inspiring precedent he had established."
His legacy will continue through the people whose lives he’s impacted
As a teacher, Harry leaves an enormous hole. He was a deeply committed educator, whether at school, a rehearsal or the stage and there are countless players thriving today because of Harry. In some of our last texts to each other, we were talking about commuting across London for teaching work. Harry said, "When you have great kids, it eases it."
Pianist and composer Ben Burrell remembered how, when he first joined Jazz Jamaica, Harry would "literally guide me through the whole gig... offering pointers and encouragement.” As Ben later reflected, "I don't think I'd have kept persevering with my playing if I hadn't had that encouragement."
The outpouring of love following his death is not surprising. From Ezra Collective's tribute at a recent gig (pictured below), to players who may only have shared a one gig with him.
Harry, or Uncle Harry to many, was one of a kind, and none of us can quite imagine a world without him in it. I think, if we can carry forward just a little bit of his generosity, love, loyalty, faith, encouragement and belief in others, then his legacy will continue through the people whose lives he’s impacted. I think that’s how we honour him.
He will be missed more than words can say, but in the words of Ezra Collective, Harry Brown forever.
Harry joined the MU in 2000. This tribute has been written by Harry’s friend and the MU’s Live Theatre & Music Writers Official, Nat Witts-Kilshaw.