A note from Jane Glover

Dear Friends of MOB,

I write to you from Lockdown London, on a gloriously sunny afternoon in April. These are the strangest and most challenging of times, but there are compensations, I suppose, for being grounded in one’s own home at this cusp of the seasons. Little traffic makes for purer air and abundant birdsong, even in the heart of London, where I am. My windows are open, light is streaming in; and it is all very, very strange. I know that all of you are in similar situations, wherever you are.

This global crisis means, of course, that, like the rest of the musical world, we cannot perform for you next month. I am so very sorry that I will not be in Chicago as planned to close the season with our specially designed Musica Sacra concerts. I had been looking forward so much to performing this music: the Byrd Mass would have been a bit of a departure from our normal territory, and yet our fabulous chorus, with their pure tone and tremendously idiomatic sensitivity for texture and sonority and balance, would, I know, have delivered this searingly beautiful music quite brilliantly. The Allegri too would have shown off those same skills, and the Vivaldi would have literally been a “glorious” way to end the season. But we will definitely find a place for this programme in the future, and as soon as we possibly can.

We have loved performing for you this season, and have created what I hope are indelible memories of sterling individual triumphs among our communal efforts. Who will quickly forget the dazzling Alison Balsom? Or our two spectacular Divas, Susanna Phillips and Jane Archibald? Or Principal Guest Conductor Nicholas Kraemer’s Concerto programme, with our own beloved musicians stepping forward as soloists? Or indeed, the monumental solemnity and brilliance of the Bach B-Minor Mass, with which we opened the season? (Thankfully, we recorded those concerts, and that recording will be available for you in the fall.) Even though we have been robbed of our final two sets of concerts, we hope you feel that the 49th season has brought reward and pleasure.

As for how I myself am surviving in isolation, I seem to be wavering between bouts of extraordinary hyperactivity and solemn stasis. As a busy performer and constant traveller, I always have to be very organised in the preparation of scores, and generally try to be about four months ahead of myself in the learning/revising schedule. Normally my piano is covered with piles of music, all relating to upcoming programmes. I have been attending to these piles, sadly, mainly by putting them back on the shelves, as one engagement after another has disappeared.

But I am also taking this opportunity to address scores that I have my eye on for the future, but have not yet planned into my schedule. And the one that has most recently thrilled me is Handel’s Brockes-Passion—his only work in German, which he wrote in London but never performed there. It is absolutely wonderful! I have spent a lot of time with it—particularly in the run up to Easter when it was so relevant—and I simply cannot wait to programme it for MOB. It will suit us perfectly, and my excitement at discovering its glories in such detail has meant that I have planned everything for when we do come to do it: I have done a rehearsal schedule and even a stage plan! So watch this space….

I am very fortunate to live in the centre of London, by Regent’s Park, and this park has kept me sane in these lockdown times. I go into it every morning very early, around 6am, before many other people are there, and it is absolutely magical, especially in this glorious spring. My run, or walk, around its circumference takes me past the London Zoo, and I often see the lions and camels and tigers and gibbons as I pass their territories. And I have to confess that I sometimes cheat on the amount of time I am allowed for exercise, and borrow a dog (a delightful Schnauzer called Pepper) from a neighbour and go round again with him in the early evening. Weekends, I often exercise further afield. On Good Friday, when I would have gone to services at Westminster Abbey where I normally worship, a friend and I decided to walk there anyway, even though of course it is closed. The streets were completely empty, and the walk was thrilling. So on Easter Sunday I walked to St Paul’s Cathedral—again through eerily quiet streets. This is actually a great opportunity to see London and its buildings in a very new light, and I will continue this.

Despite being socially isolated, of course, it is wonderful how often I talk to family and friends, either on the telephone, or more often with visuals via Zoom or FaceTime. This really helps. And by the way, Nicholas Kraemer and I talk all the time, checking up on each other, which is lovely.

I am also catching up on a lot of reading, and the huge book that has been occupying me is the latest part of Hilary Mantel’s brilliant trilogy about Thomas Cromwell, The Mirror and the Light. I am loving it, and think she is an absolute genius. Such detail! What a mind.

Otherwise I am cooking quite a lot (my sister and I have exchanged recipes from our childhood, which she found in our mother’s old recipe book, and have been cooking cakes! All very Proustian….), and also finding opportunities to reorganize shelves and drawers and cupboards. One of my immediate tasks is to try and sort out about 20 years’ worth of MOB recordings, all thrown into a drawer and completely muddled. I know I will listen to some of them, which will bring me closer to the wonderful musicians whom I miss so much.

Take the greatest care, everyone. And when we meet again—hopefully in September—we will make music together again with a new intensity in our joyful endeavours.

With warmest wishes,