My world is smaller without Ronnie Corbett and Zaha Hadid

Generous and kind, but with a quick temper, the world-class architect and the legendary comedian had much in common

Zaha Hadid, the architect who passed away this week. (Getty Images)

Zaha Hadid wasn’t just the most famous and successful female architect in the world, she was a huge star: someone who lit up a room, every bit as charismatic as the late David Bowie.

Zaha had the unenviable task of trying to persuade hard-nosed business men (and it was usually men) to invest in her vision. The result is a plethora of instantly recognisable buildings - from the Aquatic Centre at the London Olympics to museums, galleries and public buildings around the world, including the National Museum of 21st Century Arts in Rome and the stadium in Qatar for the 2022 World Cup.

Although Hadid’s first work was the tiny Maggie’s Centre Cancer Hospice in Scotland, few of her designs can be found in this country today. The Welsh chickened out of building her award-winning Opera House in Cardiff, frightened by the cost.

Unlike artists or pop stars, from the moment architects dream up a project, other people will try to chip away at it, scale it down, or stifle it with regulations, red tape and accusations of spiralling costs. And yet architecture remains the one art form that improves how we live, and it is also a true monument to a society’s culture.

The vulgar towers being built in the City of London, for example, are a chilling reflection of our lopsided finances- where the gap between rich and poor is greater than ever. The only other contemporary architect who has this gift of instantly “recognisable handwriting” in every example of their work is Frank Gehry, and the pair were great friends.

Anish Kapoor described Zaha’s buildings as “habitable sculpture” but they are much more than that- she understood perfectly that a brash, look-at-me building makes people proud. It raises morale, it makes a statement not about the architect but about the people using it. It becomes, like medieval cathedrals, a destination for pilgrims. Every time we met, Zaha was funny, outrageous and great company, with an unbelievably sexy smokey voice. We had both studied at the same college (the Architectural Association, although I failed to complete my course) and her office was around the corner from my house in Clerkenwell. Once she gave me a lift in her car- a Chrysler PT Cruiser, complete with chauffeur.

On Desert Island discs recently Zaha chose poignant songs by Adele and Bryan Ferry, revealing her shy, romantic heart. Even then, she still had to fend off the persistent questions about failed projects and the “trials” of being a woman in a predominantly male world. Would anyone have asked the same of David Bowie or Anthony Gormley?

Ronnie Corbett - who also died this week - had an equally giant personality, although small of stature. Never lost for words, he would certainly have given Zaha a run for her money when it came to put-downs. In 1999 I decided to walk in a straight line from Edinburgh to London for a televison series (don’t ask why) and spent a memorable day filming with Ronnie, as we walked out of Edinburgh, where one golf course leads seamlessly into another. He could have been churlish about the endless remarks concerning his size, but Ronnie turned a physical fact into a selling point.

He had a lot in common with Zaha - he didn’t suffer fools and had a quick temper. Ronnie’s intelligence is evidenced by the way (like the best pop stars) he managed to prolong his career, as fashions in comedy changed from one generation to the next. Over the last forty years, I’ve had to work with some repulsive male comedians - patronising, sneering, sexist and rude. Ronnie Corbett was unfailingly generous and a lovely person - just like Zaha. The world is a bit smaller without them.