7. Lessons in London
Betty Rayment was no believer in “doing it my way” and constantly sought improvement from higher musical authorities. She did not say much to me about her previous piano teachers, except to mention occasionally things Keith Swallow had told her. Keith Swallow for many years had a big reputation in the Midlands and the North, particularly as accompanist and chamber player. By the time I knew Betty, her thoughts were turning more to the violin. After an initial phase with a local music teacher, Bernard Knight (formerly a viola player in the Scottish Orchestra), she felt she had gained all she could get from him and went up to London once a week for lessons with Rosemary Rapaport, a teacher at the Royal Academy of Music. Later, she broke with Rosemary Rapaport, but I do not remember the name of the teacher she went to, also in London. I am vague, too, about the course she took at Trinity College in the 1970s, some time after I left, to gain new qualifications. Effectively, until the time of her retirement, she was taking lessons as well as giving them. Rosemary Rapaport also headed the Central Tutorial School for Young Musicians, and at least twice a group of us was taken up to London to hear their annual concert. Their star pupil was Oliver Knussen, who went on to have a distinguished career as composer and conductor. The second time we saw him he had developed a mane of long, curly hair. “He could certainly do with a haircut”, said Betty”, adding darkly in my direction, “I suppose you thought he looked glamorous”. Within Caldecott-imposed limits, I was cultivating my own mane at that time.
It was in this light that she decided, after I had obtained only an ordinary pass in my Grade VIII, it was time for me to go to someone else. She asked Rosemary Rapaport for advice and got the immediate response, “Of course, old Alexander Kelly down the corridor is marvellous”. Eventually a list of teachers was produced, but Betty felt first thoughts are the best and “old Alexander Kelly down the corridor” (actually just turned forty) it was. How Betty persuaded the Caldecott authorities to pay for this I do not know, but once a fortnight I took the train to London and then on to Barnes, where Alexander Kelly lived. He was an inspiring teacher and a wonderful man. Even after leaving the UK, I kept in touch with him until his death at a relatively early age, and later I recorded Stanford’s Cello Sonatas with his daughter Alison Moncrieff-Kelly, a very fine cellist.