John Bercow | My Music: ‘Music was a constant companion in my childhood, especially Mozart’
Gramophone
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
The Speaker of the House of Commons on music to drive to, and performing in G&S
My first memories of classical music come from my parents’ house when I was growing up in north London. Mum and dad liked to have it playing in the living room in the evenings and at weekends, particularly when people visited. Music was a constant companion in my childhood, especially Mozart, who was my mother’s favourite.
Somewhat pathetically, the only instrument I have ever learned to play was the school-mandated recorder. I was a member of the school choir, though; however, I was expelled in 1973, aged 10, on the grounds of my inadequate voice.
As Speaker, I have sought to open up Speaker’s House to charities and other worthwhile organisations, and it was therefore a pleasure to host two receptions for The Passage in the State Rooms, at which the baritone Christopher Maltman and violinist Charlie Siem gave wonderful performances. I had the pleasure of visiting the charity last year and seeing first-hand the wonderful work they do in transforming lives and helping thousands end their homelessness for good.
My constituency of Buckingham is both largely rural and very large. As a result I spend a good deal of time driving between constituency advice surgeries, meetings and school visits, which gives me an ideal opportunity to indulge in my favourite music. Most frequently on my playlist are Beethoven, Mozart, Elgar, Dvořák and Bach, with an honourable mention to Prokofiev’s ‘Juliet’s Funeral’, which I think is a simply superb piece of music. The day I’ve had largely dictates which CD I excavate from the glovebox. If I’ve had a busy time of it and I’m feeling a bit hyperactive as a result, I find Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony wonderfully soothing. On the other hand, if I’m gearing up for a meeting at the other end of the constituency and I’m already tired after a long day, Elgar’s ‘Nimrod’ has the desired effect.
The Parliament Choir is excellent and contains a number of talented singers. Although I have often wanted to invite them to give a performance in the Dining Room in Speaker’s House, they are rather a big group, and I fear that even if we managed to fit them all in, there would be no room for any kind of audience. The Commons band MP4, however, have played Speaker’s House to rapturous acclaim from colleagues; they’ve also travelled, at my request, to Buckingham to raise money for Help for Heroes. I was, and am, enormously grateful to them.
I am a huge champion of charities that help children with speech and language difficulties. My eldest son, Oliver, was diagnosed with autism at a very young age and I consider the work that these groups do to be of inestimable value both to children like him and in terms of the support they offer parents. I have the honour of being President of Afasic, and a parent patron of Ambitious about Autism, along with my wife Sally. I attend conferences held by such organisations as often as my diary allows, either to speak or, in a small way, to lend moral support by being a member of the audience. It was at one such gathering a few years ago that I realised the transformative effect that music can have. We were introduced to a young boy with autism who was about 14 or 15 years of age. He was non-verbal – that is to say, he didn’t speak. Yet he could sing, and he sang magnificently. It was a truly life-enhancing experience to hear a young man who couldn’t communicate through speech but found an outlet of expression through the medium of music.
My yearly billing as the narrator in the Buckingham Choral Society’s annual Gilbert and Sullivan production is a source of great enjoyment for me and amusement to my constituents. Wisely, although the Society has always been too polite to state the obvious reasoning behind the decision, I am kept away from any kind of singing, but I try to do justice to my non-musical role. This year it was The Yeoman of the Guard which was a hilarious experience, but I confess a fondness for the marvellously farcical HMS Pinafore. I love taking part and will continue to do so for as long as the audience tolerate me, and the Society keeps inviting me back.
The record I couldn’t live without
Beethoven Symphony No 6, ‘Pastoral’
BPO / Karajan
(DG)
'If I’ve had a busy time of it, I find Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony wonderfully soothing.'
This article originally appeared in the December 2015 issue of Gramophone. Never miss an issue – subscribe today