Everyone who knows anything about Sir Thomas Beecham has their favourite Beecham story. Mine is the one about the man he met while walking, shortly after his second wife’s death. When the man asked where his wife was, the conductor replied, “She’s taking tea.” Telling pause. “With Vaughan Williams.” The English composer had also passed on around that time.

As a witty raconteur, Beecham had no equals in music this side of the Atlantic. 
It might be argued that not until Leonard Bernstein’s comet blazed over New York was there another conductor to rival his unforgettable turns 
of phrase.

But there was more to Beecham, qualities that sometimes get overlooked precisely because of the great quips. The sense of spontaneous brilliance that he drew from orchestras across a wide range of repertoire was staggering and justly celebrated (and happily it was caught many times on record). This year is the 50th since his own death and to mark the occasion Rob Cowan’s affectionate pen portrait of the man tries to pin down exactly how he achieved a freedom in music-making that none of his English contemporaries mastered (yes, I’m standing by for outraged letters from devotees of Sir Adrian Boult and Sir Malcolm Sargent, though I remain a great admirer of theirs).

Beecham was not only the most acclaimed of his peers, he effectively shaped London’s music scene, founding both the London and Royal Philharmonics and pouring money into top-grade opera seasons to boot. Cowan, a great authority on musicians of that period (and most others, come to think of it) has spoken to many people who knew Beecham personally and played under him. We’ve also collated details of some of the most fascinating previously unreleased recordings of the conductor due out this year.

Still more developments online. Gramophone has now released a digital edition, so you can subscribe and enjoy it via your phone or computer! Click here for details.

james.inverne@haymarket.com