My colleague Stan Ambrose, who has died aged 86, presented and produced what is thought to be the longest-running programme on UK local radio, Folkscene. It started on BBC Radio Merseyside in 1967, a few weeks after the station opened, and he worked alongside another stalwart of the folk community, Geoff Speed.
Martin Carthy was the guest on Stan’s first show, but in recent years he featured only artists based on Merseyside and gave many musicians their first BBC session. When his programme was under threat with BBC cutbacks, the playwright Willy Russell, who had been a folk singer, was among those who argued for its retention. In recent years, Stan continued to present the programme despite failing health, but now it has been taken over by the academic Mike Brocken, who shares his view that the programme is for both the committed and the curious. It is essential listening for anyone interested in folk music. Although the BBC can have a reputation for profligacy, Stan made his one-hour programme for less than £100 a week without expenses.
The son of Arthur, who made and sold furniture, and Alma, Stan was born in Barking, east London, and educated at Northbury junior school. During the second world war, his family moved to Cambridge, where Stan completed his schooling. He studied at Southampton University, cycled around Europe and became a Labour councillor in Cambridge.
In 1961 Stan went to Liverpool University to study psychology and he remained in the city, becoming a social worker known for resolving difficult problems. He became passionate about traditional folk music and he started the Bothy Folk Club in Southport, which is still flourishing. Stan would accompany anyone on his penny whistle and he performed amusing music-hall songs, notably If It Wasn’t for the Houses in Between.
His group of musicians, Bothy Folk, toured the area and they received £15 for playing the Widnes Folk Club. A short while later, a young American singer and songwriter played the same club for £12; his name, Paul Simon.
After his retirement from social work, Stan started learning to play the Celtic harp and became proficient enough to play in cafes and bookshops. He was a gentle, soft-spoken man with radical views and although some thought him an anarchist, he said that he was a “Stanarchist”. In his opinion, most legislation could be scrapped if everybody simply agreed to behave themselves. The worst thing you could say to Stan was “take care”. He would flash his cheeky grin and say, “Not really, I take risks. That’s what creativity is all about.”
Stan is survived by his sister, Daphne.
