Fuzzy memory
I was interested to read that Alice Sara Ott (issue 132 cover) is looking forward to recording all the John Field Nocturnes. This brought to mind an incident in the late 1970s, when I was invited by the family of Robson Lowe, the distinguished philatelist, postal historian, and auctioneer, to play one of my own piano miniatures at his memorial service.
The venue was St James’s Church, Piccadilly, and I had been asked to perform in the middle of the proceedings. Naturally, I was very conscious of not letting down Robbie, and the circa 300 people present. When the minister then asked me to play at the end instead, this rather threw me and, after a few minutes, I confessed in a whisper to my girlfriend that I had completely forgotten the melody. She kindly assured me that I would remember it, when the time came. The service over, the minister announced that a friend of Robbie (I had asked to remain anonymous) would now play a short piece in his memory. I walked to the impressively large grand piano. After three dismal attempts to perform, and three failures, as I could not get past the first chord, I heard a voice inside me shouting ‘Run!’. The next thing I remember was walking back to my row, seeing my partner in tears, and apologising profusely to her for ruining the day.
‘No,’ she said, ‘You attempted your piece three times, paused, then perfectly played that other miniature of yours you played to me a few weeks ago!’ This came as a complete shock, and an astonishing relief, as I remembered nothing of playing the second piece. It must have been some unconscious survival instinct. A man then approached me, a Director of Christie’s Auctions, who said, ‘Excuse me, I did enjoy that piece – was it a nocturne by John Field?’ I had to tell him the truth.