Memories of music which was just ‘part of life’ at 17 Sandfield Road, Headington, Oxford, include a song about a blackbird:
“A blackbird sang one morning,
Within my garden fair.
His song was one of gladness,
And joy beyond compare,
And joy beyond compare.”
No doubt we had the sheet music for this, presumably an Edwardian drawing room ‘tenor and piano’ piece, and Gwen, our mother, would play the accompaniment while we boys (well, one or two of us) would do our best with the words. Not great music, or even within a thousand miles of it, but it certainly was something else. It was real music, live music, and lasting music in my case. I remember to this day the melody and the harmony of that song, and indeed, some at least of the words. And it was, perhaps by chance, all of a piece with Gwen herself, who loved blackbirds, and passed on that love to me, not, of course, just by that song, but in many other ways including her frequent springtime injunction to: “Hark at that blackbird!” - which, when I use it at home these days, causes great hilarity at its antiquated reverberrations.
Much more needs to be said about Gwen’s ‘hausmusik’ which was driven by and centred about her intense love of making music, and which gave me during my twenty or so years of growing-up in Oxford, live, tuneful, educational, life-preparing music as part of everyday life, which I now treasure, but which I then, sadly, probably took somewhat for granted, little-realising how rare such a thing is.
(Added 23.1.15): Having recently bought a recording of 24 Chopin Études played by Vladimir Ashkenazy (in order to have the one called ‘Butterfly Wings’ which my brother Edward helped me to identify as ‘one of Gwen’s pieces’, meaning one she very often played, like the Ballade in G minor), I am now beginning to realise that she actually played many more than that very familiar one, including “Winter Wind”, and “No.3 in E major” and xxxxxx - (I will identify them as I make a note of their names/numbers [**]). What amazing good fortune it seems, to have a childhood with such glorious memories.
[**] - it is clear that there are so many of these that it would be rather meaningless to list them all. (Added 8.9.2016): But, having said that, I do now see merit in doing so, just to recall the joy that they bring now, whenever I hear, recognise and remember Gwen playing them. So, here is a list of some of ‘Gwen’s Piano Pieces’:
Most of the 24 Chopin Études, especially the ‘Revolutionary’ and No.9 in G flat, and ‘Butterfly Wings’;
The Chopin Ballade in G minor;
Sati’s ‘Little White Donkey’;
Louis Claude Daquin’s: Le Coucou;
But what glorious memories! What civilised life. How high can you go in achievements? A mother who played, routinely, as if they were the mere routines of life, which perhaps they were to her, most of Chopin’s 24 Études, and did so with finesse and vivacity and vitality making these performances almost indistinguishable from those of Ashkenazy