A View from the Back of the Orchestra

I wrote this article as a programme note for a concert the MK Sinfonia did on Saturday, and I thought I’d share it.HornTransparent447x346

Symphony No 69 in C ‘Laudon’ – Joseph Haydn

Concerto in E flat for two horns – Michael Haydn 

Soloists: Tom Molloy and Kate Knight

Symphony in D, Op 18 No 4 – Johann Christian Bach

Symphony No 31 in D ‘Hornsignal’ – Joseph Haydn

This concert has been programmed to give prominence to the horns and trumpets in the classical orchestra. Instead of a conventional programme note, we offer the following article by Catherine Rose, giving a little background and history of the performers from the mid to late 18th century.

Horns and trumpets were relative late-comers to the orchestra. Unlike the string section, whose instruments are all closely related, the orchestral brass section emerged from different sources over many years: the barracks, the church and the stables. The trumpet of course began life as a martial instrument, while the trombone or sackbut was found in church and town bands (alongside the cornett, a curved wooden instrument with finger-holes and a trumpet-like mouthpiece).

Two by two

The horn came from the hunting field specifically the stag-hunting field (the French horn was never used in hunting the fox). It was always played in pairs, a practice which probably originated in France. A pair of matching instruments would be played by huntsmen, including calls and fanfares, but also tunes and duets. Thus the first player became an expert on the higher notes, the ever-closer high harmonics of the tube, while the second player developed a different expertise, being able to leap about among the more widely-spaced lower harmonics. This high/low pairing persists today, so that in a section of four horns, the odd-numbered parts are high players, and the even-numbered are low players.

The younger Haydn brother, Michael, had been a choirboy with Joseph in Vienna but later found a job in Salzburg. His concerto is typical of many compositions of the era, showing off the complementary virtuosity of the high and low registers. Many composers produced double concertos for the great duettists of the day, including Vivaldi, Telemann and Rossetti. Players would often form a duet partnership and travel together as a unit, and they were often closely related: brothers, father/son, uncle/nephew.

Vorsprung durch Technik

Tunable instruments with slides arrived in the early years of the 18th century. There were some particularly fine makers of brass instruments in England. Johann Christian Bach, one of the sons of the great Johann Sebastian, would have benefitted greatly from the playing of the English horn-players, whose excellence was partly fostered by aristocratic fashion. For example, Lord Aberdare had four Black hunting-horn players who played quartets on horseback, and it used to be possible to hire a pair of French horn players to serenade you as you were pulled across the Thames in a hired rowing boat. The Symphony in D was written around 1780, and includes music from J C Bach’s opera ‘Temistocle’.

There are three main eras of horn-playing technique. The early ‘clarino’ style, reaching up into the top registers, owed a lot to trumpet technique. Around the middle of the century, the hand-horn technique began to emerge, with the hand in the bell used to open and close the aperture to fill in the ‘missing’ notes in the scale. Initially, second horn players tended to be better at this technique, because they had more need of it, but by Mozart’s era it was the accepted technique of the virtuoso, though not yet of the majority of orchestral players. In 1812, the first valves were invented, and from then on horn-players had to move between the two techniques.

The glory of Esterházy

Joseph Haydn’s early symphonies and chamber music made much of the ‘clarino’ style, and he was blessed with a series of excellent players at the palaces of the Austro-Hungarian Esterházy princes, for whom he was Vice-Kapellmeister and Kapellmeister for over 40 years. The Kappellmeister ranked as a house-officer, and had a huge range of duties including organising all the players, the sheet music, performances in church, concert hall, opera house, marionette theatre and in the open air, and of course composing and performing himself.

The Esterházys were fabulously wealthy and devoted to music and hunting, spending around 20,000 florins a year on their musical establishment at its peak. Horn players were required for the orchestra and opera, for the ‘Feldmusik’ (an outdoor ensemble of horns, bassoon and either oboes or clarinets), and for the hunt. The Prince had his own private army, which included a band of fifers, drummers and trumpet players, but they were not employed in the orchestra and were paid less than the orchestral musicians. Hence, relatively few of Haydn’s symphonies, up to the late 18th century, were scored for trumpets. The Esterházy records show that as many as six horn players were employed at one point, but this was partly because some violinists who could also play the horn preferred to enlist as horn-players in order to receive higher pay. Conversely, aging horn players would learn the viola or violin so that they could continue in employment when their teeth started to fall out.

Four by four

Ordinarily, orchestras of the time had two horn players. In the year 1765, two more were added to the Esterházy orchestra. They were: Karl Franz, Thaddeus Steinmiller, Franz Stamitz and Johann May. They were paid about 340-350 florins a year (compared with Haydn’s salary of 600 florins, and the average musicians’ salary of 250 florins at the time). Musicians also received other benefits such as candles, firewood, and allowance of fresh meat and so on, and had to wear livery and keep themselves clean and well-groomed. Not much is known about the men themselves, except for Stamitz, who was (disappointingly) a horrid bully who was once fined and briefly imprisoned by the Esterházy guard for being beastly to a new young member of staff, the violinist and composer Joseph Purksteiner. On a happier note, Steinmiller was known as a fine teacher.

Symphonic studies

It was therefore in 1765 that Haydn wrote his three symphonies including four horns: nos 13, 31 and 72 (the numbering does not reflect the chronology). The ‘Hornsignal’, in which Haydn uses a fanfare, an old hunting signal and a posthorn signal, is considered a final flowering of his early period (before ‘Sturm and Drang’ or storm and stress period set in), and in addition to the splendid and very taxing horn solos, showcases several other instruments. The violin features prominently in the second and fourth movement. Luigi Tommasini, Haydn’s celebrated orchestral leader, who started his working life as a ‘Kammerdienst’ or servant of the bedchamber, would have played this part. The flute and cello both receive their place in the spotlight – the cellist Joseph Weigl was also the soloist in Haydn’s Cello Concerto in C the same year. The double bass receives a lengthy and very elegant solo in the final set of variations – Haydn was fond of the double bass and wrote solos for it in several earlier symphonies.

Symphony No 69, the ‘Laudon’, is a much later work, dating from 1778, a time when the symphony took a back seat to the opera at Esterháza (the same season, Haydn is recorded as conducting 17 new operatic productions). It was dedicated to Ernst Gideon, Freiherr von Loudon, a famous Fieldmarshal whose victories over the Turks had made Eastern Europe secure for the Hapsburg monarchy. It is much less innovative than No 31, but displays the mature mastery of the orchestra and of the form that might be expected from the now very famous Haydn. The composer was by now making quite a lot of extra money, too, with symphonies of this period being published as far afield as England and Spain.

The ‘Hornsignal’ is in D major – a ‘horn key’ to suit the usual length of the instrument (though the second pair are pitched in G for the slow movement). The ‘Loudon’ is in C major – a ‘trumpet key’, with the bright C trumpet sound supported by the timpani (the bass line of the trumpet section) and the velvety C basso (or low C) horn pitch. This is Haydn’s celebratory key, which Haydn had used before when important guests had visited Esterháza (for example, the Maria Theresia symphony, No.48). The work is rarely played, perhaps because, apart from its startling use of dynamics, it has few eccentricities, jokes or innovations, but it is full of delight and virtuosity.

Today’s performance is of course carried out using thoroughly modern instruments, with valves to cover the whole chromatic range. However, it is important to realise that the early techniques of our ancestor-performers are still very much to the fore as we sit at the back of the modern orchestra, blowing down our brass tubes in the same way as the long-gone, but not forgotten, players of the 18th century.

Published in: on May 3, 2016 at 10:36  Comments (4)  

Short story

Here is a picture (from Getty Images, nicked from The Telegraph) of the three main actors in the recent BBC re-working of John Le Carré’s The Night Manager. Left to right: Hugh Laurie, Elizabeth Debicki and Tom Hiddleston.

Debicki - Getty cropped

Here is a picture I took last weekend of the new edition of The Night Manager, on the shelves of W H Smith at Birmingham New Street station. The personnel are the same but in reverse order.

debicki cover

Now, tell me what is wrong with this picture?

Here’s a clue. Elizabeth Debicki has been widely quoted as saying how great is was to act with people as tall as she is. She is 1m 90cm tall.

Here are a couple of other clues: High Laurie is 1m 89cm tall. Tom Hiddleston is 1m 88cm tall. In other words, they are both marginally shorter than Elizabeth Debicki, when all three are in their stockinged feet.

What is wrong with this picture is that the designers have taken about six inches (OK – 15.24cm) off her height. Why? (WHYYYYYYY???!!?) Well, my husband clearly reckons I’m making a mountain out of a molehill on this, and it’s just about making the design work. Or maybe (shades of Father Ted) she’s standing further away (in which case, why does Hugh Laurie look so BIG?).

However, we all know it’s because leading ladies, even the leadingest of ladies, should not appear larger than their leading men. Even in 2016.

All I have to add is that IT SHOULD NOT BLOODY MATTER that the leading lady is as tall as both leading men, and that if I were Elizabeth Debicki, I would be spitting tacks.

Chin-chin! (Or maybe chin-forehead, in this case.)

Published in: on April 16, 2016 at 21:15  Comments (5)  

A new fool

Simon Danczuk MP is rightly getting it in the neck from the public and his party over the revelation that he engaged in sexually explicit texting with a 17 year old girl who approached him to ask him for a job in his constituency office. He has apologised; it has been established that he has not broken the law; he has not met the young woman in person; he is being investigated by his party for his conduct.

However, I’m very concerned about the use of language he has deployed in his apology tweet, to wit:

“My behaviour was inappropriate & I apologise unreservedly to everyone I’ve let down. I was stupid & there’s no fool like an old fool”

It’s the phrase ‘there’s no fool like an old fool’ that really got my goat. (Step – away – from the goat.) It implies that he is an old fellow who has been taken in by the wiles of a pretty young temptress who has made a conscious attempt to cozen him. The last use of it in the public arena of politics was by Vince Cable, who let all sorts of stupid things come out of his mouth when confronted with a good-looking young journalist who was indeed specifically aiming to catch him out. In that case, it was justified. However, in this instance, it’s quite wrong.

Sophena Houlihan was allegedly told by Danczuk that he was “horny” and asked her if she wanted “spanking”. Leaving aside the utter and colossal stupidity of an anti-child-abuse campaigner communicating like this with a young unknown female, texting this kind of thing to ANY unknown female of ANY age is absolutely blithering. But there is a further issue, connected with power and privilege.

The following is quoted from today’s Guardian article:

‘Houlihan told the Sun: “When I first got in touch I never expected the messages to get so graphic. At the time I played along with it, but now I feel like he duped me. I was keen for a career in politics and he is a very high-profile MP and I was in awe of him.”‘ [my emphasis]

In other words, Houlihan was no sultry temptress, no deceiving journalist using her female charms to seduce a suggestible old letch for her own purposes. She was a potential employee seeking a chance to get on in life, who was awed by Danczuk’s status and unable to deal with his overtures. Some people might castigate her for ‘playing along with it’ – but I certainly won’t condemn her, not least because I remember similar things happening to me when I was a young thing, and simply having no idea how to handle it. When a person of great social and professional standing treats you like this, your first response is that this must be normal, and you should follow their lead. After a certain point, it is incredibly hard to draw back.

People in positions of power and influence need to know that young people generally, but particularly young women, are susceptible and vulnerable because they are immature, and because they do not have the experience or the sheer social technique to counter this kind of approach. This knowledge needs not only to be learnt, but to be consciously put into practice, but people on both sides of this unequal divide.

In short, the use of the phrase ‘there’s no fool like an old fool’ is an excuse that Danczuk does not have, and he is not entitled to hide behind it.


Published in: on January 1, 2016 at 14:39  Comments (3)  

Why aren’t we insane with rage?

David Cameron says he has immense sympathy for those caught in the awful floods in the North of England this week. He has just announced that the government will be doing everything for Yorkshire that they are doing for Cumbria. Everyone caught up in it seems to have got the Dunkirk spirit, helping each other out and doing their best to survive.

But what we need to do now is get angry.

What HAVE David Cameron and his government actually done?

  • failed to tackle climate change, which has increased flooding in both frequency and severity
  • reduced council spending so that budgets for flood defences, emergency services and infrastructure are neglected or cut
  • allowed land management practices which increase the likelihood of flooding (such as funding farmers to keep hillsides treeless)
  • reduced or removed subsidies and support for renewable energy, thus throwing us back on burning fossil fuels
  • allowed fracking to give access to yet more fossil fuels and potentially pollute our drinking water (a propos – I wonder what happens when fracked areas are subject to heavy flooding?)

In other words, NOTHING to prevent flooding, and quite a lot to increase it, and to worsen its effects.

He came back from Paris saying “we have secured the future of our planet for future generations” – but that’s tripe. He can SAY that till he’s blue in the face – his actions speak louder than words. He is wreaking havoc on global attempts to combat climate change and ecological disaster.

Remember, it is not just global warming that is at issue, though the government likes to keep a narrow focus on that because it is easy to get deniers to shout it down. It is the acidification of our oceans, the pollution of our air, the destruction of wildlife habitats, the entry of poisonous chemicals into our biosphere. All of these dangers are being ignored by our leaders.

When will we start to get angry about this? When will get angry with ourselves about the way we treat our environment? When will we get angry enough to do something about it? To go without something so that we can save what we have?

Published in: on December 28, 2015 at 13:40  Leave a Comment  

Looking like a bad idea

My good friend Chris Brannick alerted me to this link on Yahoo. Bic – the company which brought you the Bic For Her, and hence underpinned Bridget Christie’s comedic output for the past 18 months – has done it again, posting the following advertisement on National Women’s Day:



In case the writing’s not clear on this pic, is says: Look like a girl – Act like a lady – Think like a man – Work like a boss.

Bic has already noticed how bad this is and has withdrawn the ad and issued an apology. However, it still stuns me that anybody could be dim enough to issue it in the first place. Sadly, I fear that a lot of women think in this way, and particularly women in the corporate world. Dr Phil’s wise words, that ‘people do what works’, comes to mind, which is even more depressing.


Look like a girl. You have to look young. You have to look full of sexual possibility, if not actually sexually available. If you are not young, you have to get yourself fixed so that you look young, even if that means getting yourself chopped  up and allowing yourself to be injected with poisons. You must conform to feminine norms. You must wear make-up and high heels and a skirt. You should probably grow your hair long, and, once it is long enough, you should not cut it short. You should dye your hair, since grey is not girlish.

Lady WorsleyAct like a lady.  My instant reaction to this is “what the **** does that mean?” Obviously, not saying **** would be a start. (I once said **** to a prominent cricket coach and he nearly fell over backwards. Clearly I was not supposed to know the word.) Anyway, casting aside modesty, quietness, moral indignation, sexual conformity and all the other ladylike attributes which I consider to be worse than useless, I’m aiming for Lady Worsley (right).

Think like a man. How do men think? Do all men think the same way? Should I think like A C Grayling, Nigel Farage, James MacMillan or Joey Essex? Go on – pick one! OK – I’m being a little disingenuous, – I dare say women in general do have different ways of thinking than men in general, but there is no way on earth that one is better than the other. Ooh – I know what I’ll do – I’m going to think like a PERSON! And that person is ME.

Work like a boss. I don’t have a problem with the idea that women can be bosses. However, bosses are not the only people who work hard, and in some places I have been, they work less hard than the people actually making the difference at the sharp end, so I have a bit of a problem (though not a feminist problem) with working like a boss. Also, I have no boss and I do not boss anyone, so I’m in limbo on that. Perhaps I need to start striding round my office shouting “Get me today’s FTSE figures! Devalue the yuan! Downsize the music department!”, in order to be taken seriously. I fear the chaps in the office next door might call the people in white coats to take me away.

Finally, it was with deeply mixed feelings that I noticed, also embedded in the blog I’ve linked to, a tweet from someone called Technically Ron, whose heart is obviously in the right place, but whose thinking is still at least partly bogged down in the patriarchy. He says he has tried to make the new Bic ad ‘a bit more relatable’, by changing the wording to “Look like a girl – Act like a Velociraptor – Think like a supervillian [sic] – Kill men with Biros”. It’s a nice try, but underlying this is still the idea that a woman’s not really worth anything until and unless she behaves like a stereotypically aggressive man while looking like a schoolgirl. Count me out.

Published in: on August 13, 2015 at 10:41  Comments (2)  

E, by Gummey

One of the things that most irritates me about people who want to standardise English spelling is the fact that it is clearly changing all the time.  No sooner would it be standardised than it would start to morph into something else.

Over the past few years the spellings of words such as ‘pricy’, ‘spicy’, ‘chancy’ and ‘flaky’ have wobbled like Mr. Blobby in a high wind.  I was re-reading John Le Carré’s ‘The Russia House’ the other day, and came across the spelling ‘flakey’, which I don’t think would be the norm now.  ‘Spicy’ is always spelt without an E, but ‘pricy’ is now more often spelt with an E.  I have noticed this repeatedly in what used to be called the broadsheet press, so it is being done by top journalists.

Without going back and doing extensive research, I can’t be sure of this, but it seems to me that ‘pricy’ always used to be spelt without an E, and it is only in recent years that the E spelling has become prevalent.  ‘Chancy’ seems to be spelled both ways with equal frequency.

I’m not going to wade in and say which I think is correct, although I would always tend to use the spellings without an E.  Both are perfectly clear, and I can’t see that either is objectionable.  My spell-checker doesn’t seem to mind most of that time, though it doesn’t like ‘flakey’. (The spell-checker on WordPress doesn’t like ‘pricy’, so perhaps ‘pricey’ is a US spelling.)

In my view, the greatest reason for not standardising English spelling is because it would destroy the etymological clarity of word meanings.  Of course, I do think that people should have some idea of the etymology of words, and I have no idea whether or not this is taught.  I hope it is – it is always been one of my great joys. However, the other great reason is because you simply can’t hold people to standard spelling – it seems to be against human nature.

Published in: on June 13, 2014 at 10:49  Comments (2)  

A new word for an old enemy

I’ve been trying to find a word for some time to describe what I consider to be the most dangerous type of person on the planet. I have lit on an old word, ‘gnostic’ which means ‘having knowledge, knowing or shrewd’ (Chambers, 12th edition, 2011). It is also helpfully the antonym of ‘agnostic’ a term which is often bandied around in conversations about religion and religious doubt.

(When endowed with a capital G, a Gnostic means an adherent of Gnosticism, an almost impossibly abstruse set of beliefs which you can read more about here. My intention is not to allude to them.)

So: I’m proposing to use the word ‘gnostic‘ – with a small g – to describe people with a particularly dangerous cast of mind which all of us have come across at one point or another.

There has been a lot of comment, scandal and policy-making on how to prevent extremism, most (but not all) of which seems currently to be centred around religion rather than politics. It was not always thus – extreme left-wing and right-wing ideologies have played their part and they don’t go away. However, what many of us agree on is that it is not specifically religion, or the religious, nor indeed politics or the political, who threaten to oppress, destablise or dominate.

In my and many other people’s view, it is those who know that they are right, and that what they believe is the real and only truth, who are the enemies of civilisation at all levels from the international to the domestic. It is those for whom their religion or politics are the last word. They are the people who believe that holding certain beliefs auotmatically makes them not only good people but better than those who do not hold those beliefs.

Not only that, they believe that those who do not hold those beliefs they are wrong and evil, and that must be defeated, either by conversion, subversion or conquest. It is perfectly legitimate, in the mind of a gnostic, to use these weapons against the unbeliever.

Please note that I do not include most religious or political people in this. Most of us are reasonable people. My friends occupy a wide range of religious and philosophical ground, including devout Church of England vicars, wine-drinking Muslims, Sikhs who rise every day at 5am to pray, Liberal Democrat councillors, lapsed Catholics, Pagans, non-practising Jews and a former Tory cabinet minister.

They are not, however, gnostics. They do not consider me damned. They may try to persuade me (though most don’t), but they will never execute me for failing to agree with them.

The term ‘gnostic’ is one which I hope other people may start to use, not least because I feel that politics and religion are as badly tainted by extremism as is secular life. It distinguishes workaday belief from extreme belief, and civilised human interaction from deranged obsession.

I have no idea whether it will catch on – perhaps there is a better word out there which will.




Published in: on June 8, 2014 at 17:10  Comments (7)  

Opera lovers, take note

A letter appeared in the Times today (29th April 2014). I can’t give you the link as I am not a subscriber and anyway it would be behind a paywall for those of you who are also non-subscribers.

So horrified was I by this letter that I have decided to copy it out in full for you:


Martin Furber [note: a man who wrote complaining about dress code snobbery among opera audiences] is uncomfortable with black tie at the opera, but we wear black tie to respect the performers; all involved give their all for our enjoyment.

Wearing black tie is all that we can do, aside from our applause, to show our appreciation. Glyndebourne in the summer would not be the same (nor enjoy our patronage) without black tie (though shoes seem to be a problem for some). Because the Royal Opera House (ROH) will not insist on black tie we prefer to pay £500 for the best seats at Baden Baden rather than attending the same at ROH because we will be among those who are happy to dress appropriately. I am sure many opera fans will, like us, be delighted that  Mr Furber has found his niche at the Welsh National Opera.

DJ Swainson, Wiltshire.


This is my reply, which I’ve only just sent so may or may not be printed:

Dear Sir,

DJ Swainson is clearly very concerned about how he appears in public, but does not seem to realise that in print he comes across as a raging snob (letters, today). Opera orchestras and singers do not care what their audiences look like: they care whether they are attentive, and whether they appreciate what they hear and see. Of course it is nice to dress up, but it is not compulsory, and there is no dress code.

All those concerned with the future of opera would prefer that people should be encouraged to try out the art form and to enjoy it whatever their personal financial or social circumstances, and not be put off by outmoded and disdainful attitudes from those who seem to feel that the art belongs only to those who own a specific type of expensive clothing and who can afford to spend hundreds of pounds to avoid those who don’t.

With his final dig about Welsh National Opera, he merely exposes himself as unable to appreciate the excellent work of this fine company, for which I pity him.

Yours faithfully,

Catherine Rose


UPDATE on 1st May: They didn’t print my letter – I rather suspect it was a bit too rude – but there are five letters in a similar vein at the top of the letters page in the printed edition today. Well worth reading!


Published in: on April 29, 2014 at 19:43  Comments (8)  

“Mahler would never have stood for it!”

This is one of the Great Sayings of Michael Rose. He says it as we emerge from the opera house, or after reading a review of a particularly weird or apparently ill-judged operatic production.

He has said it in London (ENO Midsummer Marriage, many years ago, and ROH, Birtwistle’s Orpheus).

He has said it in Budapest (Hungarian State Opera, Elektra – set in a spa hotel, half the cast naked and flicking each other with wet towels, the other half dressed as Mafiosi. In the foreground – an empty swimming pool, with a tree planted in a heap of compost bags).

He has said it in Vienna (Vienna State Opera, Queen of Spades, with the Countess’s party turned into a live sex show complete with gimp masks and whips).

He has no doubt said it elsewhere, many times, but I have lost track.

What he means, of course, is that when Mahler was Intendant of the Vienna Opera, he would never have allowed directors to overwhelm an operatic work with an insufficiently meaningful and often downright deleterious overlay of directorial ideas.

We’re not averse to the weird and wonderful – the ROH Midsummer Marriage, for example, was fabulous, and a half-naked Don Juan with out-of-tune piano accompaniment, cross-dressed casting and a giant lobster at the Edinburgh Fringe many years ago was just a scream. However, we do have to wonder how the ENO in particular has managed to get itself completely trashed twice in a fortnight for its two recent productions of Fidelio and Die Fledermaus. Perhaps they’re trying to be like the Bayreuth Festival, whose Ring cycle this year was blasted by critics across the world.

So often, when you read an opera crit these days, it ends with the words ‘…the production was redeemed by great singing and wonderful playing from the orchestra, expertly led by A Baton’. I’ve heard that even negative reviews can have a positive impact on the audience, but I’m not convinced that’s any sort of comfort.

I’m not calling for the entire operatic world to knuckle down to perfect period costumes and shiny breastplates – that would be too dull – just to stop the blasted gimmicks. It can work – Martinu’s Julieta at ENO, with an Act 2 set in the shape of a giant accordion, was brilliant. But it can also be an utter disaster, with an over-conceptualised and madly unsuitable ‘vision’ obscuring the work of art it is meant to illuminate.

Michael thinks that it’s down to the musical directors – he thinks the rot started with Bernard Haitinck being too nice at the ROH back in the 80s. If it was Mahler, he reasons, he wouldn’t stand for it – he would put his baton down and say, “this production is rank bollocks and I’m not conducting it until you do something about it!”. I’m not holding my breath.

Published in: on October 3, 2013 at 19:53  Comments (4)  

Blindingham Hall is now open to the public

I hope all readers of Lady Effingham’s blog will be interested to visit Blindingham Hall (www.blindinghamhall.wordpress.com), newly opened to the public.

Co-curated by Chris Brannick and Catherine Rose, Blindingham Hall charts the epistolary friendship of Rogers the Third Under-gardener with his aristocratic yet strangely accommodating employer Lady Effingham of Blindingham, as she nurtures his newly awakened love of classical music. Fellow custodian Chris Brannick and I have been working for some time to bring you this enlightening source. To read the correspondence from the beginning (i.e., the oldest post first), go to the Letters page and scroll to the end.

As Chris Brannick has commented: “The burgeoning urges of Rogers can only be satisfied by her Ladyship’s extraordinary experience and her insatiable desire to share all that she has…”

Please do visit and sample the delights of an epistolary friendship across the class divide.

Published in: on September 25, 2013 at 14:25  Leave a Comment