I used to play the bassoon in a youth orchestra. Not the good Youth Orchestra – the one below it. I was pretty average. I didn’t practice enough and I could never tune it properly. I would spend the 45 minute lesson on a Monday evening avoiding opening my instrument case by reading whatever poetry I’d just discovered to my tutor. Like he didn’t know what I was doing.
At our annual concert in the Ulster Hall on Bedford Street – at which the bassoon was flat, as always – the young stocky bespectacled ginger male soloist in the orchestra played this. And it was one of the most beautiful things.
A redhaired friend just posted about Max Richter. Grandeur beyond.