Here is another of those lists I indulge in when I’m too busy to write a proper blog post. This blog meme comes via Somewhere Boy and before him Stuck in a Book. The idea is to answer each statement/question with the title of a book you’ve read this year. Because I’ve virtually given up reading books in favour of my Twitter feed, other people’s Facebook status updates, and piano exam regulations, I’ve cheated: some of the books I’ve read, some I haven’t. Please do feel free to submit your own list….

One time on holiday…
A Pale View of the Hills/Ishiguro
A Room With a View/E M Forster

Weekends at my house are….
The Craft of Piano Playing/Alan Fraser
How to Eat/Nigella Lawson

My neighbour is….
Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde/Stevenson

My boss is….
My Secret History/Paul Theroux

My superhero secret identity is….
Me Cheeta/James Levene
The Handsomest Young Man in England/Michael Hastings

You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry because….
This Thing of Darkness/Harry Thompson

I’d win a gold medal in….
Shopping & F**king/Mark Ravenhill
Disobedience/Naomi Alderman

I’d pay good money for….
The Truth About Love/Josephine Hart

If I were prime minister I would….
Hard Times/Dickens

When I don’t have good books I….
Eat Pray Love/Elizabeth Gilbert

Loud talkers at the cinema should be….
Goodbye to All That/Robert Graves

Were you at the Proms last night? Even if you weren’t, you probably know by now that the concert, given by the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra, with Zubin Mehta and Gil Shaham, was interrupted by pro-Palestinian protesters who barracked and sang, thus forcing Radio Three to abandon its broadcast of the concert. It is not the first time a concert given by Israeli musicians has been interrupted by protest – and it won’t be the last either. Although more rigorous security checks were in place ahead of the concert, these did not prevent protesters invading the hall: they had booked their tickets way in advance. Hints that there would be trouble at this concert were made ahead of event, via Twitter (where I heard about it) and various other social media and news channels, and petitions had been made to the BBC, suggesting the concert be cancelled.

Reading various reactions, including a hefty handful of tweets and links from Norman Lebrecht, I felt an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu. Last March I attended a lunchtime concert at the Wigmore Hall, given by the Jerusalem Quartet, four young Jewish string players who reside in Jerusalem. There was a rag-tag group of noisy protesters outside the hall when I arrived, being fielded calmly by John Gilhooly, the hall’s Director. Stupidly, perhaps, I thought little of it, because I never believed the “sacred shoebox” of the Wigmore Hall could be invaded by protest, anger and violence. I was wrong. At least six protesters were dotted around the hall (they had also purchased their tickets in advance), and each made their best effort to interrupt the performance, knowing that it was being broadcast on Radio Three. One protester, a perfectly respectable-looking middle aged woman, was sitting next to me. She stood and heckled loudly, and was immediately attacked (this is the only word I can think to use) by a gentleman sitting in front of me. He dragged the woman by the hair across my lap and roundly demanded that she shut up so that we could enjoy the concert. But of course we couldn’t: by now the Mozart quartet was spoiled, for all of us, and certain members of the audience, angry that their lunchtime music had been disturbed, were now heckling the hecklers. Eventually all the protesters were removed, and we tried to settle down to try and enjoy the rest of the performance. But the dynamic within the hall had changed because a space which had, until then, been sacrosanct, a place of refuge and comfort to escape the exigencies of everyday life, politics, war, celebrity gossip, had been invaded by anger and protest. I suspect that the concert-goers at the Proms last night felt very much the same. One thing is certain: the protesters have not particularly helped their cause by invading the Proms in way that they did.

The UK is, supposedly, a free country. To me that means we have the right to protest, to express our views freely. It should also mean that certain places, such as the Wigmore Hall, are permitted to remain separate from the important issues of the day. It is naive to deny that there is no relationship between the arts and politics, but that does not excuse the invasion of art spaces and venues by those who chose to deny the rest of us our freedom, our human right, to enjoy music or art, no matter who is performing it, or who created it. Places like the Wigmore Hall should be refuges, places where no one can reach you, and the Wigmore guards that privacy most assiduously. It is this preciously guarded freedom which the protesters last night, and last March, set out to destroy. Incidentally, the members of the Jerusalem Quartet, who behaved with great dignity and calmness during their interrupted recital, spoke to the audience and the protesters simply to state “we are musicians, not soldiers”.

I am not sufficiently conversant with the politics of the Arab-Israeli situation to comment here: what I do know is that such issues should be kept out of the way of music. Leave music alone, please. The Wigmore Hall is my “church”, and the wonderful music I hear there regularly transports me to another, better world: it is one of the few places left where we can escape governmental politics and protest.

For a fuller account of last night’s concert, read this review from the Arts Desk. Some video clips of the concert, and plenty of comments, are on Norman Lebrecht’s blog.

I was browsing the sheet music in Blandford Forum’s Oxfam bookshop at the weekend. Tucked behind a vocal score was a slim volume of early piano music which brought a rush of involuntary memory (the so-called “Proustian Rush”), and which took me right back to Mrs Scott’s pink and mauve piano room in Sutton Coldfield, circa 1973. Mrs Scott was my first piano teacher, an elegant, and, to me, very elderly, white-haired lady, whose husband would silently bring her cups of tea in a bone china teacup and saucer while she was teaching. When I was a little girl, I would be dropped off at her house by car, or would walk there with my mother, but when I was older (around 10 or 11), I would cycle to her house, my music flung in the basket on the front of my bike. Sometimes my cat would follow me and as I pedalled along the road, he would dart across gardens. Fearing he would get so far and then be lost, I often had to take the cat home, lock him in the house and then pedal at high speed to get to my lesson on time. Mrs Scott was never terribly impressed if my lateness was caused by my pet!

The music which released this rush of memory was Felix Swinstead’s The Way Ahead. The volume was identical to the one I had, with the typeface suggesting a road, the long, lonely road of study, perhaps. The book contained pieces with trite titles such as ‘A Tender Flower’, ‘The Water Mill’ or ‘March Wind’. He also compiled and edited a number of other volumes which I probably had as a child – for example, Step by Step to the Classics and Work and Play.

Swinstead (1880-1959) was a pupil of renowned teacher Tobias Matthay, and is primarily remembered (just!) as a composer of educational music, though he did compose other music. His entire working life was spent at the Royal Academy of Music, from scholarship entry to full professorship and eventually retirement. He was also an examiner for the Associated Board, and his pieces still appear regularly in ABRSM exam repertoire lists as well as study books and albums of music for young players. ‘A Tender Flower’ is in the current ABRSM Grade 1 syllabus, though my Grade 1 students have tended to select Pauline Hall’s rather more racy ‘Tarantella’ as their list B piece!

Radio Three’s Breakfast programme is also cashing in on the ‘Proustian Rush’ by inviting listeners to contribute music which has a particular resonance for them: “…..a piece that evokes strong memories of childhood, or reminds you of long lost friends, or perhaps a piece you associate with a particular time in your life”. We all have pieces like this, tucked away in the recesses of our memory, which, on hearing, can take us to back to a certain place or point in our lives. Here is just a handful of my choices (links open in Spotify), though I am not sharing the actual memories!

Mozart – Clarinet Quintet, K581. Larghetto

Finzi – 5 Bagatelles, Opus 23. Prelude

Beethoven – ‘Archduke’ Trio, Opus 97, Allegro moderato

Schubert – Impromptu in A Flat, D899/4

Debussy – La fille aux cheveux de lin, Preludes, Books 1

Handel – Concerto for Harp in B Flat

As a postscript to this, I also came across the score of Cesar Franck’s Prelude, Chorale & Fugue in the same Oxfam bookshop. I opened it, read some of it and decided it was too advanced for me, and returned the score to the shelf. The next afternoon, I heard the piece performed in its entirety at an ‘at home’ recital given by the student of a friend of mine.  A rather neat coincidence. (Incidentally, the student, who is working towards his Masters at the University of Cape Town, played the piece with huge conviction and impressive bravado.) Here is Richter playing the Chorale.

For further information on Radio Three’s Your Call feature click here.

If I read all these books while I’m in France, I’ll consider it a thoroughly good holiday! There is, after all, no telly in the chalet, and limited internet, and it is quite probable that the weather will be uncertain…. If the weather is really appalling, we have a contingency plan to visit the Large Hadron Collider at CERN.

The Very Thought of You – Rosie Alison

Solar – Ian McEwan

Never Let Me Go – Kazuo Ishiguro

This Thing of Darkness – Harry Thompson

Liszt – Sacheverell Sitwell. (Haven’t got time to read three-volume life by Alan Walker.)

And on my iPod:

Mazurkas, Opus 50 – Karol Szymanowski. I’m learning the first two at the moment. Might as well listen to the rest of ’em!

Director’s Cut – Kate Bush. Reworkings of tracks from Kate’s 1990s albums, The Red Shoes and This Sensual World

The Best of Arvo Part – useful reference listening for refining the Messiaen I am working on currently. Very beautiful, ethereal, meditative music.

Piano Works – Takemitsu. More useful reference for Messiaen.

Flight of the Concords – this is required listening for holidays, especially when there are long car journeys to be completed. We know all the lyrics and will happily sing our way down the autoroute to Geneva. Hugely entertaining and very clever, my favourite track is ‘Inner City Pressure’, a parody of the Pet Shop Boys’ ‘West End Girls’.

Legende, S 175, St Francis of Paola walking on the water, Fantasia and Fugue on the theme of B-A-C-H, Bénédiction de Dieu dans la solitude, Venezia e Napoli – Franz Liszt. I’m going to hear these pieces in a late-night Prom the day after I return from holiday, so I should probably familiarise myself with them ahead of the concert.

Road Movies – John Adams

Complete Piano Music – Ravel (Anne Queffelec)

On my Ipad….

I keep meaning to test all the music/piano-related apps I’ve downloaded so that I can recommended them to others (or delete the really useless ones).

Doodah

Key Wiz

KeyboardTots

Sightread Lite

WavePad

Music for Little Mozarts

Note Goal Pro

ReadRhythm

ShowMe

iAnnotate PDF