Matt Whistler whistles while he works

The whistle has its roots dating back to ancient China; night watchmen would blow into the tops of acorns warning towns of invading Mongolians.

In ancient Egypt two blades of the papyrus plant along the Nile river were held together between the palms. By blowing into the palms the papyrus leaves would make a loud, vibrant sound. It is possible to do this with a blade of grass but it sounds more like a demented Amazon bird.

Human whistling has historically seen Venetian gondoliers who move their lips whilst whistling in a way that can look like singing.

Here is my whistling curriculum vitae: When I was five, my first whistle came when I was bounding down the stairs and a puff of air came out and turned into a whistle. In my delight I jumped three steps higher off the stairs in genuine belief that I was the next Superman. Ever since then I’ve been whistling and have a real ‘bus driver’s impromptu style’, with a pucker tongue positioning element for variation. My creepiest whistle is similar to that of the dust ball moment in Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer’s Shooting Stars.

The biggest whistle in the world is in a whistle-making factory in Birmingham – it’s the size of a car. I want one for my keyring, but I may first need to reinforce my spinal cord.

My biggest downfall is the Shepherd Whistle. To get round this, I put two fingers in my gob and shout “Here boy, here boy”.

It is considered bad luck for actors to whistle on stage as it confuses the stage crews who use coded whistles for scene changes. Here’s one! An actor with a compulsive whistling habit. I’m now going to put my whistling bird kettle on. See you next week, sort of… do come back, or I might whistle for yer.