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  Appassionata

  ( Rutshire Chronicles - 5 )

  Jilly Cooper

  Abigail Rosen, nicknamed Appassionata, was the sexiest, most flamboyant violinist in classical music, but she was also the loneliest and the most exploited girl in the world. When a dramatic suicide attempt destroyed her violin career, she set her sights on the male-dominated heights of the conductor's rostrum.

  Given the chance to take over the Rutminster Symphony Orchestra, Abby is ecstatic, not realising the RSO is in hock up to its neck and is composed of the wildest bunch of musicians ever to blow a horn or caress a fiddle. Abby finds it increasingly difficult to control her undisciplined rabble and pretend she is not madly attracted to the fatally glamorous horn player, Viking O’Neill, who claims droit de seigneur over every pretty woman joining the orchestra. And then Rannaldini, arch-fiend and international maestro, rolls up with Machiavellian plans of his own to sabotage the RSO.

  Effervescent as champagne, Jilly Cooper's novel brings back old favourites like Rupert and Taggie Campbell-Black, but also ends triumphantly with a rampageous orchestral tour of Spain and the high drama of an international piano competition.

  Jilly Cooper

  Appassionata

  To the Royal Scottish National Orchestra

  because they make great music

  and I love them all.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I felt desolate when I finished Appassionata, because I’d grown so fond of everyone who’d helped me. I was constantly touched and amazed that musicians who work such punishing hours often for totally inadequate reward should not only be the merriest and the funniest people in the world, but also the most generous with their time.

  I must therefore start with a huge thank you to my guardian angels: benign bassoonist Chris Gale, his wife Jacoba, ace cook and viola player, and another viola player, Ian Pillow, who writes Classic FM magazine’s wonderfully funny column ‘Pillow Talk’, all of whom are from the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra; fair Annie Tennant, Education Officer of the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra; Jack Rothstein, super violinist, soloist, leader and conductor, his wife Linn Hendry, another ace cook and a pianist who specializes in violin repertoire and, finally, brilliant violinist Marat Bisengaliev and his wife Steena, sublime first flute at the English Northern Philharmonia. These eight muses gave me inspiration, encouragement, endless introductions and marvellous hospitality. They never minded being bombarded with silly questions: ‘Could you bonk a small woman on a Glockenspiel?’ ‘Would tearstains devalue a Strad?’ in the middle of the night, and if they didn’t know the answer, they always knew someone who did. I cannot thank them enough.

  I would also like to thank two great orchestras. The Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, whose managing director, Anthony Woodcock, very kindly allowed me to spend a fantastic week in Poole, talking to both musicians and management, sitting in on rehearsals, touring the South of England, listening to marvellous concerts. Everyone helped me, but I would like to say a special thank you to: Marion Aston, Kevin Banks, Andy Barclay, Nigel Beale, Philip Borg-Wheeler, Andrew Burn, Johnathan Carney, John Charles, Stuart Collins, David Gill, Stuart Green, Christopher Guy, Helen Harris, Anna Hawkins, Karen Jones, Edward Kay, Jayne Litton, Janet Male, Peter Rendle, Nick Simmonds, Verity Smith, Louise Wright and Peter Witham.

  The red lion’s share of my gratitude, however, must go to the Royal Scottish National Orchestra. In 1992 I wistfully asked my friend Ian Maclay, who now runs the BBC Concert Orchestra, if he knew a band brave enough to take me on tour abroad. Within twenty-four hours, he had elicited an invitation to tour Spain from Paul Hughes, who must be the nicest man in classical music, and who had just taken over the RSNO as managing director. Thus followed one of the best weeks of my life, as the orchestra roared through five cities bringing the very formal Spanish audiences yelling in delight to their feet. Walter Weller, darkly urbane and charismatic, was the conductor. John Lill, adored by musicians and public alike, was the soloist, reducing us to tears of joy by his piano playing and tears of laughter with his outrageous jokes at the parties afterwards. Jacqueline Noltingk ensured everything ran miraculously smoothly.

  In May 1995, I joined the RSNO for a second tour, this time of Switzerland. Once again they played gloriously to packed houses and their ‘music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more’. Again everyone was sweet to me, but the following were of particular value to my story: Kenneth Blackwood, Helen Brew, Valerie Carlaw, William Chandler, John Clark, John Cushing, Pamella Dow, Morrison and Sally Dunbar, Claire Dunn, Jeremy Fletcher, Charles Floyd, Brian Forshaw, Martin Gibson, John Gracie, John Grant, David Hair, John Harrington, Philip Hore, Duncan Johnstone, Fiona McPherson, Evgeny Minkov, Angela Moore, Jacqueline Noltingk, Joseph Pacewicz, Edwin Paling, Miranda Phythian-Adams, Kevin Price, Stephane Rancourt, Michael Rigg, Alistair Sinclair, Ian Smith, Justine Watts, Stephen West.

  One of my heroes in Appassionata is a young pianist, so I am deeply indebted for their advice to great soloists: Philip Fowke, Janina Fialkowska, Alan Kogosowsky. I am also grateful to Philip MacKenzie, conductor and moving force behind the west country Amadeus Chorus and Orchestra and his bassoonist wife, Charlotte, who suggested I play the narrator in Peter and the Wolf at the Colston Hall in 1992 so I could experience the utter terror of performing as a soloist with an orchestra.

  My other more gilded hero is a brass player. Here again marvellous anecdotes and many ideas came from David McClenaghan and John Logan, first and third horn of the RSNO; Martin Hobbs, second horn of the BSO; Lance Green, first trombone, RSNO; Danny Longstaff, second trombone of the CBSO; and, above all, the legendary Tony Turnstall, former principal horn of the Royal Opera House Orchestra, Covent Garden.

  My main heroine becomes a conductor, so I was immensely grateful for help from Sir Simon Rattle, Andrew Litton, Jean Paul Casadesus, Stephen Barlow, Ross Pople, Denys Darlow, Michael Burbidge, Olivier Dohnányi and, above all, André Previn. André, that most droll and beguiling of raconteurs and companions, allowed me to sit in on rehearsals and recording sessions with the mighty London Symphony Orchestra, and talked to me for many hours about both conducting and playing the piano. I must especially thank dear Bill Holland and Harriet Capaldi of Warner Classics for producing the most beautiful CD, titled Appassionata, from a selection of the music featured in the book. On the recording side, I must also thank Erik Smith, Steve Long and Mike Hatch for patiently answering my questions, as did distinguished composers Orlando Gough and Geoffrey Burgon, my neighbour in Gloucestershire.

  On the musical administration side, I’d like to thank Philippa Sherwood and Andrew Jowett of Symphony Hall, Birmingham, and Christopher Bishop, late of the RSNO, and the Philharmonia for all their help and wonderful hospitality; Ian Killik of the English Northern Philharmonia; Lynn Calvin of the Musicians’ Union; Libby Macnamara of the Association of British Orchestras; Charles Beare, world expert on string instruments; Sonia Copeland; Chris Steward; Alison Taylor; Ellyn Kusman, Rosamund Leitch of the Wagner Society; Diggory Seacome, timpanist supremo and mover and shaker of the Cotswold Symphony Orchestra.

  All the artists’ agents in Appassionata are perfectly horrid, and bear absolutely no resemblance to darling Sir Ian Hunter, Chairman of Harold Holt or Trudy Wright of Harrison Parrott, both of whom advised and royally entertained me.

  During my research I spent a lovely morning at the English National Ballet, where Amanda Gilliland and Jane Haworth were as beautiful as they were informative. I also spent fascinating days at the Royal Academy of Music and the Royal College of Music, watching Professor Colin Metters and the venerable George Hurst assessing student conductors, practising their skills on respective college orchestras. One of the pieces was Bartók’s Violin Concert
o, which Mia Biakella, the soloist, played quite beautifully. I am also grateful to Huw Humphreys, a young conductor, who, after his début at the Holywell Music Rooms in Oxford in 1994, gave me invaluable insight into pre-concert nerves and the problems of galvanizing musicians.

  On a plane to Lapland in 1993, I sat next to a delightful bassoon teacher, who told me piano competitions were frightfully bent with large lady judges often receiving grand pianos as bribes. After that I naturally included a piano competition in the book.

  I then spent a splendidly inspiring week at the Leeds Piano Competition, where I saw no sign of pianos changing hands, and must thank the competition’s founder, Fanny Waterman, and Mary Bailey, from the sponsors, Harveys of Bristol; organizer Liz Arnold; Romilly Meagen of the BBC and Roisin Grimley from Ireland. It was also a great thrill to spend time with the brilliant young British contestant Leon Macaulay, who, immediately after the result, touchingly apologized for only coming second: ‘It would have been so much better for your book if I had won.’

  I also made friends with Mark Anderson, the handsome American contestant who came third, and he and his wife, beautiful pianist Tamriko Siprashvili, delighted us with piano duets when they came to stay in Gloucestershire.

  In August 1994, I spent exciting days at the International World Power Competition. Sulamita Aronovsky was the indefatigable organizer, and I must thank Ann Fuller, Samantha Day, Irish judge John O’Conor and American judge Herbert Stessin for their marvellous observations. Joe Lewis looked after me backstage. Another brilliant British contestant, Paul Lewis, came second, and again spent many hours talking to me.

  I must also thank Leonard Pearcey and Ruth Cubbin for twice inviting me to Radio 2’s excellent Young Musician of the Year Award. Many musicians helped me with the background material and stories for the book, they include Robin Brightman of the LSO; Richard Hewitt of the NEP; John Hill; Erich Gruenberg; Alberto Portugheis, Elizabeth Drew, Stuart Elsmore, Alistair Beattie, Alexa Butterworth, Mats Lidstrom, Angela Moore, Rodney Friend, former leader of the LSO; Norman Jones, former principal cellist to the Philharmonia; Raymond Cohen, former leader of the Royal Philharmonic and Hannah Roberts.

  The music press were also fantastic. Malcolm Hayes of the Daily Telegraph and Mike Tumelty of the Glasgow Herald held my hand on the tour of Spain; David Fingleton looked after me at the Leeds and took me to endless lovely concerts, as did dear Lesley Garner, super columnist, and Mel Cooper, of Classic FM, who opened his great generous heart and his address book to me on endless occasions. John Julius Norwich invited me to a gorgeous lunch in the country. Norman Lebrecht of the Daily Telegraph, author of The Maestro Myth, nobly tracked down the legend of the chandelier in Buenos Aires Opera House. Keith Clarke, editor of Classical Music magazine and doughty fighter of musicians’ causes; Nicholas Kenyon, controller of Radio 3; Professor George Pratt, Peter Barker, and Ron Hall all gave me wonderful support. My old friend and Sunday Times colleague, Peter Watson, wrote a terrific biography of Nureyev, which was a constant inspiration when I was inventing my explosive dancer, Alexei Nemerovsky.

  All my friends in fact entered into the spirit of the book. Alan Titchmarsh thought up the title Appassionata. My piano tuner, Marcus Constance, dreamt up a devilish plot for sabotaging a grand piano in the middle of a competition. Lord Marchwood took me up in an air balloon over France with General Sir Peter de la Billière. Musicians have many ailments. Joanne Murphy advised me on physiotherapy, Dr Joe Cobbe, Dr Graham Hall and Staff Nurse Sue Workman on asthma. John Hunt introduced me to Anthony Norcliffe who knew all about mending brass players’ teeth.

  On the non-musical front, Patrick Despard of Arcona was fiendishly imaginative about the splendours and skulduggeries of property developing. Toby Trustram-Eve was brilliant on computers, as were Andrew Parker-Bowles on racing; Peter Clarkson and Jean Alice Cook on nuns’ names and practices; Susie Layton on decor; Sue Jacobs of Leicestershire Social Services and Deborah Fowler in her book, A Guide to Adoption, on adoption. Other friends who came up with ideas include: Susannah and Bill Franklyn; Anthony Rubinstein; George and Dang Humphreys; John Woods; Roger and Rowena and Harry Luard; Francis Willey; Mary and Anthony Abrahams, Graham Hamilton, Michael Leworthy and John Conway of the Archduke Wine Bar.

  I’d like to thank Jack and Patricia Godsell for their beautiful Toadsmoor Lake which was a magical source of inspiration, and Dr Ueli Habegger who finally located the island on Lake Lucerne where the ghost horn player can sometimes be heard at dusk.

  As well as Spain and Switzerland, my research took me in 1994 to Prague and on to Pardubice where British jockey, owner and trainer Charlie Mann exceeded all expectation by coming second in the Czech Grand National on It’s a Snip, and, later in 1995, came first. I must particularly thank Lord Patrick Beresford and Baroness Dory Friesen for masterminding this brilliant trip for Abercrombie and Kent, and thank Sir Derek Hodgson, Queeks Carleton-Paget and Liza Butler for being such beguiling travelling companions.

  Many people wrote offering advice and anecdotes. Many numbers went down in my telephone book. Sadly I never followed them up, as in the end I had to get down and write the book.

  If researching Appassionata was a joy, writing it was an absolute nightmare, because an orchestra consists of so many characters, and mine were continually getting out of control, particularly in their behaviour. In fact Paul Hughes, Ian Pillow and Linn Rothstein, who most heroically read through the manuscript for mistakes, said they had never come across an orchestra who behaved quite so badly as my Rutminster Symphony Orchestra. Nor in fact had I. The high jinks and bad behaviour in the book are totally invented and I would stress that Appassionata is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any living person or organization is wholly unintentional and purely coincidental.

  I never got to Bogotá, where the first chapters are set, but Annie Senior and Peter Gibbs-Kennet gave me graphic descriptions and I was much indebted to both the Lonely Planet Guide to Colombia and The Fruit Palace, a stunning travel book by Charles Nicholl.

  Nor would the book have probably been completed if Sharon Young of British Airways hadn’t tracked down a folder of early notes I’d left at Glasgow Airport.

  I am truly sorry if I’ve left people out, but if I’d listed everyone who’d helped me, these acknowledgements would be longer than the book.

  While writing Appassionata, I was gently followed to Prague and Switzerland and all over England by a BBC2 crew from Bookmark, headed by Basil Comely. Occasionally I found it difficult to get to grips with brass players’ love lives or seduction techniques in conductors’ dressing-rooms with a BBC crew breathing down my neck, but otherwise they couldn’t have been more tactful, kind and fun to work with.

  My publishers, Paul Scherer, Mark Barty-King, Patrick Janson-Smith of Transworld, as usual, have been impeccable, constantly encouraging and reassuringly rock solid at a time of book trade turbulence. I have also had wonderful editorial help from the glorious Diane Pearson and from Broo Doherty, who grew cross-eyed as she ploughed through 1403 pages of manuscript, crammed with musical references. She was, however, so charming and so enthusiastic about the book that I accepted (nearly) all the changes she suggested.

  I am also eternally lucky in having the best, most delightfully insouciant agent in London, Desmond Elliott and his assistant Nathan Mayatt, who spent so much time photostatting and despatching.

  For the first time, the huge manuscript was typed on computers. The real heroines of Appassionata are therefore my friends: Annette Xuereb-Brennan, Anna Gibbs-Kennet and Pippa Moores, who completed the job on new machines in an amazing five weeks. They worked long into the night, deciphering my deplorable handwriting, punctuating, correcting spelling and pointing out howlers. I cannot express sufficient gratitude to them nor to Ann Mills, my equally heroic cleaner, who somehow cleared up the mess while picking her way delicately through rising tower blocks of manuscript until the house looked rather like Hong Kong.

  Sadly, my dear friend and PA, Jane Watts,
who supervised so much of the photostatting and collation of the book, and who had given me so much love and support over the past six years, left in November. With huge luck, her place was soon taken by Pippa Moores, who arrived to oversee the move into computers, and stayed to become my new assistant.

  My family, comme toujours, were staunchness personified. Leo, Felix and Emily hardly saw me for eighteen months, but gave endless cheer and comfort. So did my dogs Barbara and Hero, and four cats, Agnes, Sewage, Rattle and Tilson-Thomas, who provided sweet, silent companionship and protection in the gazebo, even at the dead of night.

  Dear gallant Barbara (Gertrude the mongrel in my last four books) seemed determined to cling on to life if only to see me safely into port. She died a few days after I finished writing, leaving the world unbearably the poorer.

  Finally, I would like to thank musicians everywhere for the joy they bring, and to beg the public, the Government and the local authorities to give them the support and funding they so desperately need, because a twenty-first century without orchestras would be very bleak indeed.

  THE CAST

  CANON AIRLIE

  Non-executive director of the Rutminster Symphony Orchestra (RSO), a silly old fossil, constantly campaigning for better behaviour.

  ALBERTO

  The unsalubrious landlord of the Red Parrot Hotel, Bogotá.

  AMBROSE

  Principal guest conductor, RSO, known as the ‘fat controller’ — a bitchy old queen.

  ANATOLE

  A tempestuously talented Russian contestant in the Appleton Piano Competition.

  SISTER ANGELICA

  A beautiful nun.