End of an era
On Friday 6 September 2019 I tendered my resignation, bringing
to an end nearly twenty-five years’ work at Newcastle University, first as
lecturer in what was then called the Music Department, then as senior lecturer
and finally as professor in the by now renamed International Centre for Music
Studies. The resignation was accepted.
Periods of particular frenzy were two: the early years when,
as a youngish sapper, I ran admissions, the Hopkins Studios and the music
technology front, as well as my own discipline of composition and a contribution
to the pool of general music teaching. The other especially frenzied time was
my three-and-a-half years as Head of Music. These were dramatic in more than
one way. The rest of the time was challenging, but not titanically so.
The number of students I taught in all these years would be
hard to estimate. There were brilliant ones, there were average ones, there
were those who struggled and there were a few difficult ones. It would be
invidious to single any individuals out, but I will allow myself to mention
groups. The Year Two in what was the only available music programme (BA) the
year of my arrival, (1995-6) was a very colourful collection of individuals
with whom I achieved a special rapport. They welcomed me with warmth and humour.
I still have occasional contact with some of them. As was not uncommon at the
time, there was a fair smattering of mature students in the group, and they
were among the more interesting personalities.
Over the years, there were two or three absolutely
outstanding composition students to whom I owe many hours of delight reading through
their work and discussing it with them as I followed their progress. I hope
that they will continue to do justice to their potential and, if they remain in
England, I hope that today’s harsh realities will not succeed in snuffing out their
talent.
There were students on the Folk Degree who filled the air
with music-making of a high calibre; I remember a number of them with
admiration.
As to my colleagues, what can I say. I learned an awful lot
from them. The most important and influential one of them I will not name. As
the majority of staff in my time, I remain in awe of Richard Middleton. He
transformed the place with his intellect and drive. On a more localised level,
in the folk area, Alistair Anderson showed a similar single-mindedness and
transformative power. Other than that, to mention only the veterans from my
time, I admired the flair and formidable linguistic ability of Ian Biddle, the
intellectual capacity of David Clarke, the decency and rectitude of Eric Cross, the musicianship and passion of Bennett
Hogg, the rigour and productivity of Goffredo Plastino, the exquisite wit of
Magnus Williamson. Inevitably over a long period interpersonal relationships
fluctuate; much of the time we each got on with our own thing, leaving each
other alone. But I do owe each of these colleagues, and some of the others,
moments of fond warmth and inspiring conversations, seminars and meetings.
Being a sucker for grand old architecture, I enjoyed the Armstrong
Building and having an office overlooking the quad. The King’s Hall was the
venue for numerous concerts I enjoyed as a listener and other events I
instigated or played in or conducted. A particularly fond memory is conducting
the University Orchestra in one of its better ever line-ups in two programmes
of mostly Russian music, including Rachmaninov’s Third Piano Concerto with the
excellent Robert Markham as soloist. My A Northumbrian Anthem, written
for the new Aubertin organ, was to be my most intimate engagement with
this space, as well as a homage to the most important ever adult in my life. That the
piece was not performed lies outside the intended scope of this post.
In my last two years I worked with relish to set up the
interdisciplinary Eastern European and Russian Research Group (EERRG). This
gave me the opportunity to interact with colleagues from other disciplines,
including some brilliant minds and wonderful people such as Robert Dale, Joanne
Sayner, Valentina Feklyunina and others. EERRG also enabled me to deepen
pre-existing professional relationships with much liked and much admired personalities from outside Newcastle: Marina Frolova-Walker, Valentina Sandu Dediu and Adrian Pop. I had ambitious
plans for this group and I am sad to have had to leave it in its infancy, but I
am very pleased to see signs that it is still up and running and I wish it much
success.
This self-obituary would not be complete if I failed to
mention that, on my arrival in 1995, the Music Department was a small unit,
still recovering from a recent attempt to close it down, having performed
unremarkably at the recent research assessment exercise. During my time it grew
in size and in performance to be one of the most successful music departments
in the country, becoming a Centre for Excellence in Teaching and Learning and
achieving some of the highest research-assessment results in the Kingdom. I am sure any attempt by me to claim any particular credit for that transformation would be contested, but that I was an
active participant in that growth and that success is undeniable.
There is any number of ways I might have imagined my time at
Newcastle University to come to an end, but not the way it happened. If we were
not well-bred people who respect each other and if recriminations were to fly
across the ether, I do wonder what recrimination the institution would find to
throw my way. That misfortune struck, perhaps, and that there is a limit to
how far an institution can sustain a situation of misfortune. If that was a
reprehensible act on my part, I have paid for it by falling on my sword.