Lots of people seem to have been interested in the Guardian review, (see previous post), so here’s another one of the same concert which appeared yesterday in the the Perthshire Advertiser:  ’Since the opening of Perth Concert Hall, last Friday evening’s concert was the one which has given the purest musical delight.’

Erich and I are hoping that this will help to swell the audience for the next concert in our Mozart Series, on December 14 in the Horsecross Concert Hall in Perth.

 The hall seats 1000, so anything but a really substantial audience looks a bit lost in the space, and is scary to contemplate from the stage. We hope lots of Perthshire music lovers will notice the review and rally round in December.

Blowing my own trumpet, or rather hammering my own Klavier – but it’s not so often that one gets a five-star review in the Guardian! Here’s the review of my concert in Perth last Friday with violinist Erich Höbarth:

‘Some of the most intuitive, candid and affectionate ensemble playing I’ve heard.’

(Guardian, 15 Nov 11)

I’m on my way to Scotland for the start of my Mozart Series with violinist Erich Höbarth. On Friday evening we’re playing our opening concert in the Horsecross Concert Hall in Perth, one of Scotland’s newest arts centres.

For this series, I’ve been preparing nearly twenty works by Mozart – duo sonatas and solo piano pieces. It’s not often that one gets the chance to be so steeped in the work of a particular composer, tackling so many works in a short period of time. I’ve known these works for a long time but have never had a reason to practise them, round and round, so intensively.

Musicians always say that Mozart is one of the most demanding of composers because his music is ’so exposed’. Every note counts and has to be heard in the right relation to the notes around it. Everything has to sound clear and balanced, but not effortful, because the lightness and sense of fun are also essential. On the other hand, the apparent lightness must never conceal the deep feelings running through, or underneath, many of the passages. The balance between the elements of the music is more beautifully judged, and on a finer scale, than that of any other music I know. The more I look into it, the more I respect it. It’s nice to be spending so much time with this music. When the work is going well, I find that it has a very good effect on me.

Although the clocks have gone back, the afternoons are growing dark between 4 and 5pm, and winter is clearly approaching, there are still roses blooming in the garden.

I’m particularly pleased about one rose, an Ena Harkness, which has taken ages to get established in our garden, and for the past few years has been producing flowers very tentatively. I chose it because ‘Ena Harkness’ was my mother’s favourite rose. It’s always struck me as the ‘red, red rose’ of Robert Burns’s poem, also a favourite of my mum’s. This month our Ena Harkness has suddenly outdone the other roses in splendour.

‘Oh, my luve’s like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June.
Oh, my luve’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly played in tune.’

When I was in Oxford the other day to give a masterclass at the university, I visited a friend who lives and teaches in one of the Oxford colleges. To reach his rooms, I had to pass through several interlocking courtyards, or Quads as they’re called in Oxford. Each courtyard took me further away from the busy main road and into a more and more peaceful, secluded setting. My friend’s rooms were a vision of loveliness: ancient mullioned windows looking out over the cloisters; a grand piano, beautiful bookcases, a stone fireplace, deep leather sofas and armchairs. ‘Oh, my goodness!’ I said, looking round in amazement. ‘Yes, I’m blessed’, he admitted.

We went for coffee in an outstandingly beautiful lounge reserved for Fellows of the College. Several older gentlemen were reading or working quietly on laptops. My companion pointed out several of them, names known to me from the world of politics and literature. So as not to disturb them, we took our coffee to an adjoining room where I was startled to see some famous paintings on the walls.  Although I was only there for a short time, I could feel myself starting to relax and enter an enjoyable trance-like state. Imagine the quality of work one could do there! How different life would be if you had access to such a place whenever you wanted it! Alas, all too soon it was time to tear myself away and do some teaching, but I cherished the image of those peaceful rooms for the rest of the day.