Hugo Emond Schwarz

new Hugo as an undergraduate and postgraduate student at Glasgow University.  I just wanted to include a group photo taken at my wedding in September 1979 in his memory.  I have been off work for the past year and only received my IAU bulletin recently in a package of mail from Glasgow University.  So I only found out a few days ago that Hugo had died in a motor cycle accident last year … a profound shock.

The photo includes several people from the Astronomy Department at the university back then.  Hugo and Gordon Emslie standing at the back, then clockwise round the table Buffy (Gordon’s wife), me and the wife (Ian and Linda Walker), Mrs and Mrs Williamson and Prof and Mrs Roy.

The last time I saw Hugo was in 2001 when he was giving a lecture called “Dentist’s Polarimetry” - using backscattered polarised light to look at cosmic ‘cavities and fillings’ from behind.  This was in honour of his postgrad supervisor Dr David Clarke, who was retiring from his post as Director of the Observatory at Glasgow University.  There had been many years since our last meeting but the years rolled away as we brought ourselves up to date with each others lives.  Hugo had lost none of that natural manner which made it very easy to get on with him, be open with him and enjoy being around him.  For that he will be sorely missed.

Our thoughts are with his family.

Ian+Linda.

Today he would have become 54. It still is a strange and very sad thought that friend Hugo is not around anymore. The whole day he was in my mind.

Some items placed on this site before contain pictures of Hugo in more recent years. For the ones who have not known him in his teenage years at school in Holland I (try to) attach two pictures.

 

The first I took in front of the appartment-building I lived in Alkmaar just a quarter of a mile from the almost same one he lived in. A well known pose: sitting on his Tomos lighting a sigaret.

 

The second shows the band Mystic Eyes with Hugo on the left playing the gitar. Both pictures are made in 1970/1971.

Hugo, gone but not forgotten.

Gert Jan Luijendijk

 

After more than half a year it still is a strange and very sad thought that Hugo is not around anymore. Today he would have become 54 years old. Unfortunately he passed away much too soon.

In some of the other memories pictures of Hugo can be seen. They show the grown up guy. I try to add two pictures of the teenager.

 

The first I took in front of the appartment-building my family lived in in Alkmaar halfway the sixties. Hugo and his mother lived in a same building a few blocks further west. The picture shows Hugo in an often to be seen pose lighting a sigaret sitting on his proud and joy, the Tomos.

 

The other picture shows the band Mystic Eye in which you can see Hugo play the gitar. The boys had a lot of fun practising. They had a few giggs.

On this first birthday without him my thoughts were with him often. I lit a candle and have put this message on the site.

Gert Jan Luijendijk

P.S.

This is the third attempt to get this text and the pictures on the site. By now it is 24 hours later. Still in my mind.

 

Both Hugo and I loved good books and if one guy read a particularly good one, he’d often give it to the other guy.  Tim Abbott loaned me a copy of Robert Wright’s book The Moral Animal, and I liked it so much that I underlined a lot of things, then bought Tim a new and pristine copy.  Hugo read my annotated copy, adding his own annotations, then Hektor read it, then Tim got that copy back to see what we had thought noteworthy.  Then I loaned that copy to my elder brother and he in turn loaned it to a friend of his.  Finally, I got that copy back.  Now Tim and I have an agreement to recommend books to each other that Hugo probably would have liked.

The last Hugo recommendation I read while he was alive was The Wealth and Poverty of Nations by David Landes.  I did not have Hugo’s copy.  I had a different copy.  One day late last September or early October I walked into his office and started reading him a quote in the footnote on p. 426, “I trust it is not necessary for me to add anything like an assurance of the most profound deference and respect with which I shall implicitly obey and execute the very spirit of such instructions as I may have the honour to receive, on this or any other point.  Strict undeviating obedience to the orders and directions of which I may be in posession…is the foundation on which I build…”  But I got about 10 words into this quote and he cut me off.  He said, “Wait.  I was just reading Claudia this very quote this morning.”  How could we have been literally on the same page to this extent?  When I mentioned to him which astronomer this quote reminded me of, he agreed that the person in question was indeed a champion harumpher of the first class.

I once asked Hugo how many books he had read and he estimated that it was between 3000 and 4000.  Think about it.  If you read a book a week for a year that’s roughly 50 books.  And after 50 years it’s 2500.  A whole life’s reading of an avid reader can still fit in a person’s living room.  If you want a good book to read, try Biggest Elvis by P. F. Kluge, or La Sombra del Viento (The Shadow of the Wind) by Carlos Ruiz Zafon.

Kevin Krisciunas

This is the first time I have ever contributed to a website or written a blog, but I cannot let the occasion pass without expressing my sadness at Hugo’s untimely death.

I remember him as a very bright postgraduate, studying under Dr David Clarke for his PhD and based at the University Observatory where I worked part-time as a research assistant.  At morning coffee times and afternoon tea times it was the custom for the small unit of staff and students to gather round the sink in the workshop.  This rather unpromising setting produced scintillating conversation, much laughter and occasionally solutions to problems.

Hugo had a lovely personality and was a delightful companion with such zest for life.  I remember well his love of motorcycling and feel that a high-speed accident was somehow a fitting end for him - better than waiting it out in an old folks home!

With sympathy to his family and large circle of friends and colleagues.

Margaret Morris 

 

I first met Hugo in Glasgow in September 1974 at what was then the Glasgow College of Technology.  He had arrived in Glasgow, with his then long-term girlfriend/partner Hester Schiphorst, too late in the year to apply to Glasgow University where he subsequently gained both his BSc and PhD.  I remember he spoke very good English, but with an “Oxbridge” type of accent - not very suitable for a Glasgow which at that time such an accent was regarded with some degree of hostility.  However, he quickly mastered the local patois and could soon pass himself off reasonably well as one of the locals.

We drank many pints of beer, including many home-made ones, over the years.  I met a number of his Dutch friends during their infrequent visits to Glasgow, including Paul de Vos, who I note has also posted to this site.

Unfortunately, we had a falling out over one of those stupid things, which meant that we did not speak for a number of years but a few years ago following noting his name and finding his e-mail address on a website, I wrote to him and we managed to put aside our previous difference.

This report has come as a shock to me, we think that we wil all go on forever and never fade away. My memory of Hugo will not

 

John McGlynn

I met Hugo when he came to work at UCL’s Mullard Space Science Laboratory (MSSL) as a post-doc between 1982 and 1986 after completing his PhD research in Glasgow. He was working on developing new X-ray detectors for X-ray astronomy, an area that I was also involved with. From day one we struck up a rapport, and I always felt we were able to spark ideas off each other in the many discussions we had about these detectors. However, our friendship soon went beyond the work colleague level, and my wife Jan and I would regularly meet Hugo and Cat, his first wife, socially. At that time we had just had our two children, and Hugo and Cat went on to have theirs. Hugo was always extremely sociable and loved good conversation, especially if lubricated by alcohol, and preferably in a pub. He had a great sense of humour and would often entertain us with very amusing anecdotes, particularly about his time in Scotland.

 

MSSL is located in the countryside south of London, and Hugo and Cat lived in a village nearby called Partridge Green. When Hugo discovered that it was possible to become a volunteer fire-fighter with the local fire station, he put himself forward for training and enjoyed the excitement and camaraderie that came with the role. I remember that he always insisted on calling the fire engine the ‘big red lorry’, no doubt to the bemusement of the other fire-fighters. Another small story to illustrate Hugo’s sense of social responsibility: when the Bhopal chemical disaster occurred in 1984, Hugo immediately decided to make a collection at MSSL for the victims, even though none of the big charities were making official collections at that time. I remember him going round everyone individually and managing to raise a good sum of money, and then persuading one of the big charities to take it and to agree to use it appropriately.

 

Hugo was a great person just to spend time with. We attended a conference together in California and I recall not only having a laugh and a drink into the night in San Francisco, but also making a memorable trip to Yosemite National Park where we walked the trail to the top of Half Dome – and it was of course Hugo who insisted that we complete the final steep climb to the top even when I was ready to turn back.

 

Hugo and Cat left England for Chile from our house in 1986 and after that he came back for a visit a couple of times, but in recent years we hadn’t been in touch – in fact we had no idea he was back in Chile. It was literally in the last few weeks that Jan happened to think about Hugo a few times, and then suggested that we type his name into Google last Saturday (November 25th) to see if we might make contact again and renew our friendship – only to find this In Memoriam website. It’s very sad that we can never again get together with Hugo over a beer, laugh at his anecdotes and set the world to rights. But Jan and I are both very glad to have known Hugo and to have shared a small slice of his life, and we offer our sincere condolences to Claudia, Jouke and Tamar.

Ian Mason

 

Viele sterben zu spät und einige sterben zu früh¹
       Friedrich Nietzsche; Also sprach Zarathustra

…and Nietzsche was no devil², like Hugo was – indeed - no (demi-)God…

Perhaps because I met him for the first time, July 2004, in my appartment in Amsterdam,  in a – for him – ‘strange’ environment – surrounded by people he didn’t know – I saw another Hugo: a bit uncertain, even shy, if not surrounded by well-known people or friends almost worshipping him…
To ‘acclimatize’, he started helping doing the dishes in the kitchen, to enable him to mingle afterwards with the bunch of guests sitting in the living room. Of course he had no problem adapting: after an hour or so he was telling some of his famous stories and he already felt at ease.
When I told my ‘oldest’ (high school-) friend that Hugo died in an accident, she reacted immediately saying: “how awful, I still remember how we laughed that evening in Amsterdam, when we discovered that almost all of your friends present had one or more jewish (grand-)parent, like Hugo…” And indeed, I only realized it that evening. Beside a Schwarz, there was a De Miranda, and a Jacobs, a Bosboom, a Bierman, a Stibbe: all jewish names.  And this is no coincidence, since I like very much the jewish sense of (morbid) humour. Well, my partner Paul choose to be friends with Hugo, so in this sense his presence was a coincidence… And it was even more a coincidence since we only were expecting him a week later, Hugo having mixed up in his e-mail the date of arrival and departure. Lucky for us: we were very happy to have him at our little party; the first Paul and I threw together. 
I liked Hugo for not bragging about his achievements as an astronomer and his jobs; as Paul already pointed out he was loyal, also to his old friends who were not so successful and rather poor. 
We were lucky enough to be able to visit Hugo and Claudia in February 2005 at La Palma, and to welcome them in our house in Heiloo in September last year:  their trip to Holland was almost a honymoon for them, and they were very lucky with the weather; September was exceptionally sunny and warm after one month of pouring rain. We had a party in the garden as if it was midsummer. I remember Hugo making a joke about it: ‘now Claudia thinks the weather in Holland is like this all the time’…One of the things Hugo and Claudia did was a bikingtour to visit places of Hugo’s youth, amongst other places Hugo’s ‘high school’, the Murmellius, where Hugo met Paul. As if he knew…..
When we heard that Hugo died, the message at first didn’t get through. It was too absurd to grasp. Just two and a half months after having stayed for nine days with Hugo, Claudia, Diego and Josefina in La Serena, where we felt very welcome and had a wonderful time. Paul returning to Chile after twenty years.  As if we knew….. ”Misschien heeft het zo moeten zijn.” 
It was a miracle that we managed to ‘squeeze’ those nine days in La Serena into our holiday, exactly in a way that it matched up with Hugo and Claudia’s trip to La Palma (they left the same day, some hours after us, the 2nd of August).
Our holiday didn’t end very well  (in Brasil) , we were ‘recovering’ from that experience untill the 20th of October, the next day (for me the first day of a one-week holiday) we heard that Hugo had been ‘blown away’ in a split of a second, …and we were devastated….
We feel the pain every day, for his brother and sister-in-law, the four children and for all his friends, but especially for Claudia. 
We feel privileged having spent this ‘quality time’ with them so shortly before Hugo’s death, but at the same time it throws a shade over that (lovely) period.
The two of us have problems getting it into our systems, speaking for myself I am really in rebellion against this sudden death, too soon, too unexpected, too harsh, in one word: absurd.
And then it suddenly hit me: I also liked Hugo because he had a bit of my fathers character (and who also died a sudden, violent death); inside rather vulnerable and sensitive, but looking somewhat tough from the outside, always making jokes and having fun as an anti-dote against the ‘dark-side’ of life, having preserved the spontanity and playfulness of a child and the ability of enjoying the beauty of things; he was also born under the sign of Gemini……
And, like Hugo,  living his life as if death was not inevitably at the end of the road.
Puisque la mort est inévitable, oublions-la³, said the author Stendhal. Unfortunelately, death always catches up with you…

Leaving behind a ‘deafening silence’, ‘een oorverdovende stilte ‘.

I wish to repeat here what I said to Claudia: she, or whoever wants to share his or her feelings and/or, being in great distress, wants to express his or her pain: don’t hesitate to get in touch, by e-mail or by phone, no matter what time it is. Paul is not so talkative, but he is a good listener, and I think I can be of some comfort to grieving people, having experienced (complicated) bereavement.
Wishing all the love and comfort and strength to Claudia and whomever needs it and will need it in the future,

Annemarie van Tilburg, Heiloo, the Netherlands, November 2006
(amariavtil@quicknet.nl phone: +31725320061)

¹ A lot of people die too late and only a few die too soon
² his sister, married to a nazi, completely distorted his philosophy
³ Because death is inevitably, let’s forget about it

 

 

A case could be made that if Hugo could have been anybody on Earth, he might have wanted to have been Mick Jagger.  Only not ugly.  Hugo played in a band when he was young and played bass.  Why?  Because 4 strings has to be easier to learn than 6.  Since he and I were both born in 1953, the 1969/70 school year would have been the equivalent of his junior year in high school.  In any case, he was involved in hiring a band for an event at his high school, and they hired a band called Shocking Blue.  Well, before the event happened, this group came out with a song called “Venus”.  Many people will remember the re-release of this song by the British girl band Bananarama in the 1980’s, but the original song was an international number 1 hit in February of 1970.  Hugo called up the agent of Shocking Blue and said, “Now that the band is a big hit, will you still be playing at for our event?  And will the price be the same?”  The agent assured Hugo that the contract was going to be honored.  Well, to have a band with an international number 1 hit playing at your school was understandably a really big deal.  Hugo and the other  organizers  must have been like real  empresarios.  Since Paul (see below) was a close friend of Hugo’s overlapping this time, perhaps he can set the record straight if I have pieced the story together wrong.

Kevin Krisciunas (krisciunas@physics.tamu.edu)

Hello everyone,

I am not a very spontaneous writer so it took me a while to find something appropriate to post here. Hugo was my best friend, the only real friend I had in this world. We go way back – I first met him when we were at the Murmellius, I think I was 16 and he 15 years old. Hugo was speculating on the performance potential of the school PA system and as I was also into HiFi and electronics at the time a lively discussion ensued. I went home with him that day and we have been friends ever since. We are both from broken families and he had just moved to Alkmaar with his mother. It soon transpired that we had a lot more to talk about than just electronics. If there is such a thing as love at first sight between men, this is what happened. (For clarity’s sake, we are not gay…) I loved him dearly, and I know I had a very special place in his hart too. Losing him will take me quite some time to adjust to.

Having read everything people have said about him here, I obviously wish to contribute to the celebration. I have thought long about the question what his greatest quality was. I have decided that it was his loyalty. Once he had decided that you were OK, there was not much you could do wrong to the extent that he would give up on you. To be sure, he could be ruthlessly honest if you did or said something he disapproved of. But he also had an immense capacity to forgive. And he didn’t hold grudges. He had a rare talent to pop a few balloons if he thought you were on the wrong track, and then leave you to sort things out. He never tried to change you.

His loyalty to people, work places and causes earned him a great deal of respect all over the globe. It also caused him to remain in long-term relationships with women well past their best-before dates (the relationships, not the women).

One of the things Hugo is best remembered for is his wit. He had a powerful mind, but I would not rate him as a spectacularly original thinker. Rather, his was a playful mind, that needed constant stimulation. He was easily bored, but then immediately started to do something about it. A party was never dull with Hugo on board. And he had what I privately call his Zen approach to problems. This must have made him a hugely valuable asset wherever he worked. I have witnessed this privately on numerous occasions. When faced with deadlock, he “unasked” the question, re-shuffled the data and tried a different avenue. While everyone was still standing about trying to look intelligent and not admitting defeat, he just blurted out “Right guys, this is not going to work. Let’s try something else.” And things started to move on again. Confronted with red tape, stifling rules, non-working equipment, narrow mindedness or pussyfooting he distracted attention with a few well chosen jokes and when all undue seriousness had been cleared from the air he encouraged a fresh rethink. I admired him immensely for this.

Below this outward display of sparkling wit, humour and lightness Hugo was actually very traditional, conservative even if he thought it would do no harm. Family, Home, Work, Friends – they were his anchors in life. He subscribed to the Renaissance ideal of a uomo universale, drinking avidly from the well of Culture and the best traditions. He had a great appreciation and knowledge of literature, music, good food and whatever else great brains have produced throughout the centuries. Because of this broad view, also helped by his knowledge of several languages and cultures, he always had a surprisingly different angle to offer, or just a good story to tell. Having rid himself of all narrow-mindedness there was no problem to which he had nothing useful to contribute.

The guiding principle in his life was Quality, in the sense of Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. He abhorred anything fake – whether material or people. He was ever in search of the best brand of beer, cigar cutter, pasta, motorcycle etcetera, and once located he stuck to his choice to the exclusion of everything else. Insincere people irritated him immensely, as if they insulted his intelligence, and he could cut them down to size in a few words if he thought it appropriate. I must say he become milder in this respect over the years, but when he was young he sometimes made me cringe. All of you whom he allowed into his life can take that fact as a great compliment.

I could go on reminiscing about Hugo for much longer, but I don’t think this is the place. In fact, I am a bit worried that I have invaded his privacy too much already, which can easily happen if you know someone as intimately as I know my life-long friend.

My heart bleeds for Claudia, whose world has collapsed completely. She and Hugo loved each other dearly, and hearing about his death must have been like stepping into an elevator shaft on the top floor. It is cruel irony that having experienced such giddy heights of happiness, the price to pay when it is all taken away is so unbearably high. I wish her all the strength she needs to cope. Knowing how much Hugo was loved and admired must help a little bit. There is some comfort in knowing that you are not the only one crying.

Paul D.J. de Vos