Thank you for your marvellous obituary of Harrison Birtwistle (18 April), Accrington’s greatest son (and I’m not forgetting Dave “Haggis” Hargreaves, Accrington Stanley’s record goalscorer).
Harri never deviated from his principles. As a result, he did not succumb to the temptation – as other composers of his, and the newer, generation have done – to write occasional popular pieces suitable for Classic FM playlists.
Like Benjamin Britten, I walked out halfway through his Punch and Judy due to defeated eardrums. But I have been enthralled by Panic, which so disturbed traditional Prom-goers, The Minotaur (rated by the Guardian as the third best piece of classical music of the 21st century) and much else of his output.
None of Harri’s stuff is pleasant listening, but that’s rather the point. You have to fight to get through the thicket of sound to the underlying musical thought. In an age where so much “classical” music is intellectual pap (forgive me, Messrs Einaudi, Rutter, Jenkins etc), Harri stood out like a giant.
Simon Lawton-Smith
Lewisham, London
• Without the slightest fuss, let alone flamboyance, Sir Harrison Birtwistle became one of the towering figures in British music. He always spoke his mind, tellingly and with a calm exactness that was memorable. Decades ago, I was involved putting on performances of some of his works (eg a student performance of Down by the Greenwood Side at Kingston Polytechnic), and wrote articles about his works. He always said things that were illuminating and hit the nail on the head.
And he was great fun. Not long ago, after I’d been ill, I attended a performance of one of his pieces and went backstage afterwards to talk to him. Before leaving, I said to him: “You know, Harri, the doctor doesn’t think I’ve got long to live.” He looked me up and down and replied: “You look all right to me. Tell the doctor to bugger off.”
One of this country’s treasures.
Meirion Bowen
London
• While I agree with everything said about Harrison Birtwistle in your obituary, there seems to me to be one serious omission from his accepted canon – his opera Yan Tan Tethera. My wife and I were at the opening night on the South Bank in 1986 and it haunted us for years. Such a shame that it has slid into almost complete obscurity – a magical, mystical piece that tugs at the heartstrings.
Kay Smith
Leeds
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