Transfer Fees

Posted by Susan Tomes on 3 June 2009 under Daily Life, Musings  •  Leave a comment

Over breakfast this morning I heard the sports announcer say that footballer Roberto Kaka is to join Real Madrid for a record-breaking transfer fee of £56 million. This sum is quite apart from the player’s own prospective earnings, reputed to be in the region of £160,000 a week. And what really amazes me is that even after these enormous transfer fees have been paid, it doesn’t seem long before these top players are moving on again, to another club in another city.

I can’t help comparing it with the world of classical music, which in some ways is also a world of teams. Over the years, many players I know have left one group or joined another, sometimes moving to another country to do so, but never has any money changed hands. Transfers have always been a finance-free zone. Yes, perhaps a player may be lured by the prospect of earning more in another group, but no ensemble ever pays another to release a player. This is probably not so much a question of high moral standards as of lack of money in the profession.

I couldn’t help fantasising about chamber musicians being transferred between groups for vast sums of money. What fun to be poached every other year by a fabulous piano trio from abroad, and then to hear newsreaders say that a transfer fee of many millions had been offered for me!

Flowering on one day only

Posted by Susan Tomes on 2 June 2009 under Concerts, Daily Life, Musings  •  Leave a comment

our first convolvulus flowers

our first convolvulus flowers

The new little convolvulus plant in our garden has just flowered for the first time. Its six delicate purple flowers will be gone by the end of the day. Bob says there should be new flowers tomorrow.

We bought the convolvulus plant in homage to a wonderful sight in the Swiss town of Bern, where I played a concert. In the centre of the old town, luxuriant blue ‘morning glory’ plants trail from every balcony and arcade. Each evening, the day’s display of flowers dies, but the following morning there is a new outpouring.

A plant that produces new flowers every day, discarding the old ones, seems somehow familiar to me because of my life as a musician. Every day, practising by myself, I’m aware that sometimes lovely things occur, are not heard by anyone, and vanish. Happily new things can, with luck, be produced on the next day and the next.

In today’s Guardian, psychologist Linda Blair (writing about something completely different, but let that pass) remarks that it is a mistake to confuse instant happiness with lasting happiness. Instant happiness has its own special quality, as the convolvulus flowers remind me.

‘I don’t hear anything’

Posted by Susan Tomes on 1 June 2009 under Concerts, Musings  •  Leave a comment

Today I’ve been rehearsing a quintet for piano and strings with some very fine players using some very fine old Italian string instruments. I’m never sure if it’s good to say who owns what, so I’ll just say that these top-league instruments sounded incredible. One of my colleagues said that when she acquired hers, she felt as if she were learning the repertoire all over again because the instrument itself seemed to suggest so many new possibilities.

I know it’s a fallacy to speak as if the instruments ‘sound’ all by themselves. Fritz Kreisler once responded to being told that his violin sounded amazing by looking ‘puzzled’, holding  the violin to his ear, pretending to listen and then saying, ‘I don’t hear anything.’  Brusque but effective! Let’s not forget it’s the player who makes the sound, and a really good player can sound convincing on practically any instrument. That’s not to say they won’t sound their best on a world-class instrument.

When I find myself in the company of exceptional old string instruments, I can’t help feeling sad that there’s nothing quite equivalent for pianists. With pianos it is almost the other way round: the best ones are the newest. Steinway’s concert fleet consists of pianos less than ten years old. Of course a lot can be done to maintain and renovate the tone of an older piano, but generally speaking pianos deteriorate as time goes on. There’s no equivalent of a Stradivarius violin which has only now reached the peak of its powers after several hundred years. If you were to take a keyboard instrument made in the same year as a Strad, first of all, it would be a wreck by now, and secondly, it would be a harpsichord. Keyboard instruments have changed and developed enormously, whereas violins, violas and cellos are much as they were, give or take a few modifications. String players know that these actual instruments have been played, admired and loved since the 17th or 18th century. If a pianist is particularly fond of an old piano, however, it’s usually for reasons other than the sheer glory of its tone.

Gold grasshoppers

Posted by Susan Tomes on 31 May 2009 under Daily Life  •  Leave a comment

My whole day has been brightened by a lovely thing my daughter told me. She is studying Classics at university and has been reading the Greek historian Thucydides. Writing in the 5th century BC about ‘the ancients’, Thucydides described some of their customs.

When he said ‘the ancients’, I wonder if he meant people of centuries before, or did he (as seems more likely) mean his grandparents’ generation? It’s well known that nobody can be more ancient than the older generation of your own family.

Anyway, Thucydides wrote that the ancients liked to wear linen tunics and put gold grasshoppers in their hair. As my daughter said, they must have been a bit like me. Well, not the grasshopper bit exactly, but the linen tunics and the gold ornaments, and I suppose also the ancientry. Thucycides added that although the custom of putting gold grasshoppers in your hair had died out in the part of Greece where he lived, the Ionians were still doing it. Honestly, those Ionians! Always the last to catch up.

Non-sensible

Posted by Susan Tomes on 30 May 2009 under Daily Life, Musings  •  Leave a comment

A friend writes to say that she has been pondering my remarks on Nonfiction and Fiction because of something that recently happened when she was filling in a job application. On the form, she was asked to describe herself as either ‘disabled’ or ‘non-disabled’. Sometimes you can see what motivates such examples of political correctness, but as she pointed out, this one just seems silly. No matter how much we wish to safeguard the rights of disabled people, ‘disabled’ is not the predominant state in society, and if it were, the terminology would have to change. Imagine how perverse it would seem if someone greeted you with the phrase, ‘How are you? Are you non-ill?’

Whatever next? Instead of being asked to tick either the ‘male’ and ‘female’ box on official forms, people will be asked to state whether they are ‘non-women’ or ‘non-men’.