Mike was a brilliant teacher. He taught me as an undergraduate in the late 90s, and somehow managed to transmit some joy and urgency into the much dreaded topic of semiotics. Among my year group, he was quite (in)famous for the way he taught seminars: I remember that he would often begin by opening a pack of egg sandwiches and a pint of milk but then, having got into the flow of teaching, he would leave both largely untouched for the majority of the session, allowing the smell to permeate around the room. I don’t know whether this was an intentional strategy but, to this day, even the sight of my copy of Robert Stam’s New Vocabularies in Film Semiotics brings back a certain pungent aroma! As an undergrad I had enormous respect for Mike, but I finished my studies with the impression that, as someone who taught serious and challenging theory, he was a similarly serious individual. When I encountered him again, having returned to Lincoln 8 years later as a postgraduate, I came to realize how wrong I’d been. This first became clear towards the end of my MA - my final project was concerned with memory and had been produced in collaboration with a group of people with early onset dementia. Mike came to the exhibition and had a very emotional response to the work - we spent some time afterwards talking about his experiences with his mother. I felt really privileged that he’d shared this with me. But I really got to know him when I joined the school as a graduate teaching assistant. At this time, there was still a handful of staff who had taught me as an undergraduate, which made the transition feel a bit awkward, but the experience of working alongside Mike really helped me feel that I’d been accepted into the staff community. He was so easy going, and very supportive to me in my first months as a lecturer, really helping me to find my feet. In fact, when I applied to do a PhD at Lincoln, Mike was on the interview panel, so I really do have a lot to thank him for. The last few times I saw him, he had recently rediscovered his love of photography and spoke about it with great passion, also recounting tales of his days as an artist. I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch with him after he retired, but I’ll never forget him.