I've been having some fun with Sir Hubert Parry this week. Rarely has a composer needed more urgently to be rescued from his fans. Come over to the Indy and see what he was really like. Mightn't be what you think.
Here's a little bonus: an extract from a letter home penned by a certain of Parry's students, one Donald Francis Tovey: “Dr Parry came into the examination room, talked to Sir John Stainer and tipped me a wink. Most people look austere in a cap and gown. Dr Parry looks positively rakish!”
I'd post some of his music here, but I'd have to listen to a lot of it to choose something good, so I shall let you do the hunting yourselves instead. At least I can promise you that he was a really good bloke, and we Brits love really good blokes, even if they're awfully amateurish about writing music. Blame his mother-in-law.
Must dash now - am off to the wilds of south-east London to see a lady about a trumpet.
