excerpt from 'The Hidden Roads: A Memoir of Childhood' pp. 180–181 (115 words)

excerpt from 'The Hidden Roads: A Memoir of Childhood' pp. 180–181 (115 words)

part of

The Hidden Roads: A Memoir of Childhood

original language

urn:iso:std:iso:639:ed-3:eng

in pages

180–181

type

text excerpt

encoded value

In some ways, I was rather an oddity at Swanbourne.  Each Monday evening, the young composer Philip Cannon arrived to give me my viola lesson – this had been arranged by my father, and I was the only pupil learning the instrument.  I loved the look of my vintage instrument and lovingly tended it; I listened to my vinyl recording of Hassan; and I was excited to meet William Primrose after the first performance of Edmund Rubbra’s Viola Concerto.  But for all this, I struggled to read music.  I struggled with tempo (years later, as the speaker in Walton’s Façade, I only barely managed to hold my own), and I struggled with technique.

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excerpt from 'The Hidden Roads: A Memoir of Childhood' pp. 180–181 (115 words)

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1546773998875

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