Alternative Biography

(2017) This post is dedicated to late developers everywhere. The more I become involved in working with young people, the more inclined I feel to let them into a few secrets regarding what life is actually like.

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So, in the spirit of an alternative Christmas message, I thought I'd publish a new page on my website. Those wise life coaches and yoga gurus are forever telling us how failure is the best teacher: how to embrace disappointment and lead a multi-dimensional life which is rich in experience. How to let go of the pressure to succeed.

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"Yeah, whatever", one may say. I often did. But I hope this will be of some little use to a few people (young and not so young) who love music as much as I do and want to make a life out of it.

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The world of music can be like so many Christmas baubles: immaculate photos of beautiful people, playing perfectly and effortlessly, and smiling, as Sviatoslav Richter once put it, like idiots. If you want to click over to my biography page you can read about gushing, five-star reviews, performances on the country's biggest stages, invitations to curate music festivals, my own (obviously flourishing) events and a wonderful, rewarding teaching position in Birmingham. It's true but it's publicity. I am a lucky man. I enjoy daily inspiration through musical experience of endless depth and am living my childhood dreams. I've started writing my PhD and new chapters are opening.

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Next year, my partner Sara and I are getting married. This actually feels like a really worthwhile place to have got to. The alternative version of the journey up to this point follows. The contrapuntal reading to my official biography, as Daniel Barenboim would have it.

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Daniel Tong was born in Cornwall where he lived in a small village. When he was seven, his family moved to Somerset where he enjoyed success in local music festivals and people realised that he may be a talented pianist. But when he was 11 he received his first setback; applying for the specialist music scheme at Wells Cathedral School (where his brother, a brilliant pianist, was already a pupil) he failed to get in. No matter, he managed to be accepted a couple of years later and enjoyed all the privileges of specialist music education. He reached the concerto final of the Mid Somerset festival where he was soundly beaten by a recorder player, but at 16 he got through to the televised semi-final of the BBC Young Musician of the Year piano section. Sensitive handling of emotionally complex youngsters was not a particular strength of the education system at the time, despite the excellent and well-meaning staff. Daniel was pronounced in first place after the semi-final. The final was two days later. A hasty 'lesson' was imposed, not by his own teacher, involving quite a lot of writing on his precious score in pen (pen!). Daniel was uninspired in the final and had memory problems. He didn't win. [I must add here that the other finalists were very fine pianists and there's no suggestion that I would, or should have done!]

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"Tong played as if he was still in the rehearsal." (The Strad)

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Next stop was an international competition in Germany, Daniel's first such event. In preparation he practised for 10 hours a day. He walked onto stage, had a bad memory lapse and immediately eliminated himself from the competition within seconds. Back at home and ready for the next step, music college, Daniel travelled to London for his auditions. He failed to get into the Royal Academy of Music where, despite the playing going well, he experienced a particularly unpleasant interview. The member of staff in question was clearly unimpressed by Daniel's discussion of different composers' musical temperaments and was possibly looking for more routine answers. We will never know. "That's life", thought Daniel and luckily got into the Royal College of Music.

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In his second year at the RCM, where he had done ok and won a prize or two, Daniel went to his piano lesson and played some Ravel. His teacher didn't have anything to say. Daniel concluded that either he was a genius or he had outgrown his teacher. Thinking the second more likely, whether or not it was true, he transferred to the Guildhall School. This was a positive move and a couple more awards followed (despite one of his performances being branded a "disgrace" by an eminent teacher, not his own, when be played some scales wrong) but shortly it was time to decide what to do after graduation. Daniel applied for the postgraduate course at GSMD where he failed to gain a place. The slightly maverick head of department took him aside and had a chat, concluding that if Daniel could manage a first in his undergraduate final recital, he'd be allowed to continue his studies. No pressure then, but he appreciated this. It was a real chat with a real person. The day of the recital approached, nerves were tense, the necessary mark was achieved. Perhaps more enjoyably, the external examiner from a rival institution commented that "we don't get playing like that at the RAM". Taking this as a compliment, Daniel enjoyed a small but significant moment of success.

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Daniel auditioned for the BBC as a chamber musician and was given a platform on their Young Artists Scheme, but when he undertook the same audition as soloist, he had a other problematic memory lapse. The panel's comments were extremely complimentary and unanimously positive but these mistakes ultimately mean failure. Daniel did not progress. A brainwave shortly followed and Daniel now rarely plays from memory. He attended another audition for an international scholarship where the panel openly argued about his performance in front of him. Fanny Waterman was despondent about his lack of adherence to the score. Everyone else seemed to have enjoyed his Beethoven Sonata. The result: another failure. Another brainwave struck and Daniel realised that music was a very subjective thing.

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Of course there were successes to punctuate the failures, and failures to puncture the successes, but Daniel was (and is) a musician at heart. He continued learning and with it, hopefully, improving. This is not one of those types of confessional blogs, but a major change in attitude, resulting in distinct artistic and personal improvements, was only achieved after several years' worth of conversations with a very clever psychoanalyst. As ever, this is all work in progress. As everything is. Always.

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"Who will buy [this CD]? Not I". (Gramophone)

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Here are some links to other things I have written: