Yesterday I sat in the balcony of the Philharmonic Hall to do a spot of Jury watching. These people are among the world’s most influential musicians, not to mention fascinating personalities. What would I learn?

The 12 men and women settle behind their desk. The legend that is Martha Argerich is flanked by Nelson Freire and Dang Thai Son. She has a vase of yellow tulips in front of her – the only jury member graced with such an ornament. A small book with a gold cover is passed along the ranks, a page pointed out, there’s some nudging and whispering. When it’s time, Kevin Kenner reaches in front of him for a plain beige telephone. Looking slightly embarrassed, he mutters the go-ahead to the powers backstage that they are ready. I wonder if there is a big red button, too?

As the performance begins, Adam Harasiewicz looks straight ahead, fierce concentration on his face. Michie Koyama is a study of rapt attention. Philippe Entremont listens with a deep frown, eyes narrowed. I wrote in a previous blog that Freire and Argerich look like mischievous schoolchildren. I’m reminded of this again – they whisper to each other, sneaking glances at the other’s notes as if they were sharing answers in an exam.

I’m most drawn to Bella Davidovich. Her face is animated, she breathes with each phrase, anticipates every give and take of the rubato of Claire Huangci’s Mazurka in G minor, Op 24 (this American, after slightly nervous start, displays a warm, glowing tone that clearly catches the attention of all 12 musicians).

Jury watching is a fascinating sport. You should try it, too.