Soho habitué, francophile, biographer and jazz singer
PAUL RYAN, who has died aged 69, became known, in later life, as a jazz singer, specialising in the Great American Songbook on which he was an authority, though he had many other strings to his bow.
He was born on December 30 1952 and grew up in Cardiff, where his father was an electrician. His mother was a waitress and amateur dancer and the young Paul soon joined her on stage as a singer and tap dancer.
He attended St Illtyd’s High School in the city but by the time he was 19 had moved to London, working behind the bar at the Arts Theatre Club and acting at the Hampstead Theatre.
He earned a living as a freelance arts reviewer and also wrote a play called Lost in Exile, based on the story of Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, although it was actually a thinly veiled account of an affair with a girl he knew.
He usually had a flat somewhere but was often of “no fixed abode”, sometimes even dossing down with the drunks under Waterloo Bridge.
He began to make visits to France and became a lover of all things French, French cinema in particular. Eventually he became a presenter, interviewing film writers, directors and stars at the French Institute in South Kensington.
Afterwards they would be taken to local bars and restaurants. By lunching with the likes of Catherine Deneuve and Isabelle Huppert he got to know them all personally.
Photography was another of Ryan’s passions and he befriended Henri Cartierbresson as well as Robert Doisneau, Michael Wood and John Claridge. Eventually he was made an Officier des arts et des lettres for his services to French culture by the ambassador at the French Embassy.
Among his other activities, Ryan wrote books on Marlon Brando and Lindsay Anderson, and translated the American crime show Colombo for French television.
As he grew older Ryan, who had a rich baritone voice, acquired an encyclopaedic memory for jazz singers and lyricists, especially of the Great American Songbook.
From 2005 he began to give concerts, informal at first, but graduating after a few years to professional bookings at venues
including Ronnie Scott’s. A friend, Adam Gehlin, made two CDS of Ryan with his two main accompanists, Kenny Clayton, who had played for Petula Clark and Shirley Bassey, and, more recently, the acclaimed young jazz pianist Jamie Safir.
Charismatic but chaotic, Ryan always arrived late for social occasions – although never for his concerts. He had no interest in money except for his immediate needs, but he knew the really cheap places to eat and he walked everywhere.
He liked to dance – and regarded Fred Astaire as the greatest song and dance man of all time. He was incurably romantic, often buying little presents for those with whom he fell in love. He was full of stories and was always entertaining company, even if the price of an evening with Ryan was usually a hangover the following day.
At heart Ryan, who lived in Covent Garden,belonged to the pubs and bars of the old Soho which existed before the developers arrived. He spent much of his time in the French House in Dean Street. Its landlady, Lesley Lewis, sent him a case of wine during lockdown, and when he was in hospital on Bastille Day she sent red, white and blue balloons to tie to his bed.
His last gig was in April at the Pheasantry in the King’s Road. All his concerts ended with the song Angel Eyes by Matt Dennis and Earl Brent, the last line of which is, poignantly, “excuse me while I disappear.”
In the last weeks of his life Ryan married the artist Sophie Mortimer, who had looked after him for the last two years. She survives him with his son Kieran.
Paul Ryan, born December 30 1952, died July 26 2022