JOHN S. BECKETT
(5th February, 1927 – 5th February,
2007)
Irish musician,
composer and conductor,
and cousin of the writer and playwright Samuel Beckett.
John Beckett with
the German conductor Otto Matzerath, at the Weber
harpsichord in the National Museum, Dublin , 1950.
(Courtesy of Gillian Smith.)
John
Stewart Beckett and his twin sister Ann were born in Sandymount, Dublin to
Gerald and Peggy Beckett. Gerald, brother of Bill Beckett (Samuel Beckett’s
father), studied medicine at Trinity College Dublin and became County Medical
Officer for Wicklow. Gerald played rugby for Ireland, and captained a golf
club. A quiet man with wide interests, he was quite irreligious, with a dry
sense of humour, describing life as “a disease of matter”. He was very musical
and enjoyed playing piano duets with a neighbour (David Owen Williams, who
later became a director in the Guinness Brewery) and also with his nephew
Samuel Beckett and with his son John. John inherited his father’s mordant wit,
but not his love of sport.
John
attended St Columba’s College, Dublin, where he was taught music by Joe Groocock, whom he admired little short of
idolatry, and who furthered his lifelong devotion to the music of Johann
Sebastian Bach. (John shared the same initials, J. S. B., with the famous
composer.) John wrote his first fugue at around the age of fourteen in the
Groocock family home while visiting one weekend.
John’s
father’s friend Mr Williams, who had served in Germany during World War II,
brought home a complete set of vocal scores of Bach’s Cantatas, which made a
huge impression on John.
The
Becketts lived for a time in Dundrum and then, in 1933, moved to Greystones,
County Wicklow. John’s father worked in Rathdrum, also in Wicklow.
John furthered his study of music by attending the Royal College of Music in London. He was there in 1948 but spent the year of 1949 in Paris, where he studied composition under Nadia Boulanger and taught English in a school at Saint Germain-en-Laye. He returned to Dublin in 1950 and his father died in September of that year. Between 1950 and 1952, he befriended the pianist, organist and harpsichordist John O’Sullivan, Michael Morrow (whom he met in the National Library) and the singer Werner Schürmann. Michael Morrow (1929-1995), who was born in England but lived in Ireland at that time, studied in the National College of Art and was a self-taught musician – his father had given him a present of a recorder when he was fourteen years of age. He brought John to his home at Strand Road, Merrion and, playing his lute, accompanied his teenage sister Brigid who sang songs by John Dowland. Michael, Brigid, Werner and John Beckett played recorders and Werner’s small octavino (a portable spinet tuned an octave higher than normal pitch) came in handy as a continuo instrument. John persuaded Werner to sing some German songs for a Radio Éireann broadcast. At around this time, John also met the harpsichord maker Cathal Gannon. John obviously formed a favourable impression of Cathal, for he later said, ‘I took to him like a duck to water. I liked him, I respected him and I respected his knowledge, his interests, his enthusiasm, his simplicity, his directness, and became very, very, very affectionately fond of him.’
To celebrate the bicentenary of Bach’s death in 1950, John played the harpsichord continuo part in a performance, in the Metropolitan Hall, Dublin, of Bach’s B minor Mass, sung by the Culwick Choral Society and the Radio Éireann Choir, conducted by Otto Matzerath. The historic Weber harpsichord of circa 1768 was borrowed from the National Museum for the occasion, but as it could not be tuned up to the correct pitch, John was obliged to transpose and play the continuo part (the ‘thorough’ or ‘figured’ bass) in C minor – a semitone higher – while the rest of the orchestra played in the original key. John remembered that the harpsichord was not in good condition.
John met Vera Slocombe, who had been married to the cinematographer
Douglas Slocombe, in Dublin sometime around 1950 and lived with her in a flat
in Hatch Street, moving later to a flat in Baggot Street. John and Vera went to
London in 1953 with Michael Morrow, who shared a flat with them first in
Islington and then in Hampstead until Michael got married. John and Michael
often played in a restaurant in Picadilly named Forte’s Musical Fountain,
earning a few pounds a week. Following the move to London, Michael gave up
painting and concentrated on music.
John was back in Dublin again by 1958, when the first complete
performance of Bach’s Saint Matthew Passion took place, with Victor Leeson
conducting the St James’s Gate Musical Society. As it was believed that a
harpsichord was not available, John played on a piano that had drawing pins
attached to the hammers in order to give it a harpsichord-like sound. When the
work was performed again the following year in the St Francis Xavier
Hall, Upper Sherrard Street,
using the same forces, Cathal Gannon’s new harpsichord was used. The continuo
part was played by David Lee on the organ, John on the harpsichord and by Betty
Sullivan on the cello – a collaboration that would last for many years. Although
poorly attended because of a gala concert at the Gaiety Theatre on the same
evening, the performance was a tremendous success and critiques in praise of it
appeared in four national newspapers on the following day. One reviewer wrote:
Betty Sullivan and John Beckett were a lovely continuo. Mr. Beckett was a little insistent at times in the orchestral passages, but his realisation of the harpsichord part was at all times beautifully apt and exciting.
In 1960, Musica Reservata, a group specialising
in Renaissance music was founded in London and was directed by Michael Morrow
and conducted by John Beckett. The group performed in England and on the
continent during the sixties and seventies and made many recordings. In addition
to being a keyboard player, John played the recorder and viol. John also
composed avant-garde incidental music for various experimental dramas broadcast
on the BBC Third Programme; he collaborated with his cousin Samuel, writing
music for his stage work, Act Without Words and his radio play Words
and Music.
By 1961
John was back in Ireland and was involved in a serious car accident in which he
broke his two arms, a hip and an ankle. Whilst recovering in hospital over a
period of five months, he practised his music on a clavichord that his friend,
Cathal Gannon, had made some years previously. Later in the year he married his
partner, Vera. At around this period a record was made of music played by John
on Cathal’s first harpsichord. In 1963, John appealed to his father’s friend,
David Owen Williams, now a director in the Guinness Brewery, to provide Cathal
with a special workshop in which he could make harpsichords and restore antique
pianos. John was present (and photographed) at the handing-over ceremonies in
the Brewery when a harpsichord was donated to the Royal Irish Academy of Music
in 1965 and another sold to RTÉ in 1966.
Bach’s
Saint Matthew Passion was performed again in the Concert Hall of the Royal
Dublin Society in March 1966, in which the continuo was played by John
O’Sullivan on the organ, John Beckett on the harpsichord and Betty Sullivan on
the cello. The performance featured two orchestras conducted by Victor
Leeson, The Guinness Choir, The O’Connell School Boys’ Choir and various soloists,
including Bernadette Greevy.
John
returned to England, where he taught the recorder and had a viol consort class
at Belmont School, which was attached to Chiswick Polytechnic. In 1967 he
acquired a plain, unadorned Guinness-Gannon harpsichord.
John’s
marriage to Vera Slocombe broke up in 1969. By March, 1970 he was back in
Dublin, now with his companion, the viola player Ruth David. They lived
together in a very basic cottage at the foot of Djouce Mountain in Kilmacanogue, County Wicklow. There was no
running water and guests of a sensitive nature were horrified to discover that
they were expected to use sheets of newspaper when directed to a rough outdoor
privy. Every weekday John drove to the Royal Irish Academy of Music in Westland
Row, where he taught harpsichord, viol and directed a chamber music class.
Rhoda Draper and Andrew Robinson were among his viol students at
this stage. His harpsichord students included Malcolm Proud and Emer Buckley. Other students who
partook in the chamber music sessions, normally held in the Dagg Hall, included
David and John Milne, Clive Shannon, Patricia Quinn, Michael Dervan, Siobhán
Yeats and even Liam Óg Ó Floinn, who played the uilleann pipes, an instrument
that John liked very much. The traditional fiddler Nollaig Casey also
attended; John always got her to play an unaccompanied slow air at the class
concerts. A traditional flute player also performed at the concerts, though he
did not attend the class.
The famous
series of Bach Cantatas, performed during February in St Ann’s Church, Dawson Street, Dublin, under
Beckett’s direction, began in 1972 and lasted for ten years. Nicholas Anderson
of the BBC took a great interest in these Sunday afternoon concerts and several
times recorded those Cantatas that the BBC had not yet recorded. Because of
this connection, The New Irish Chamber Orchestra and The Cantata Singers,
conducted by John Beckett, were invited to perform an all-Bach concert at one
of the Proms in the Royal Albert Hall, London, on 22nd July, 1979. This was the
first time that an orchestra and choir from the Republic of Ireland performed
at one of the Proms.
The Cantata
series was revived several years after John left Ireland, with the Orchestra of
Saint Cecilia (essentially the same personnel as the New Irish Chamber
Orchestra), whose artistic director is Lindsay Armstrong.
John
regularly performed music by Haydn, notably his piano trios and songs, which
were sung by Frank Patterson and which were recorded by RTÉ radio. John founded
the Henry Purcell Consort in 1975 and brought a great deal of Purcell’s music
to Dublin audiences. He recorded an LP of Purcell songs with Frank,
re-recording some for a BBC radio programme. He also played with the Dublin
Consort of Viols (an offshoot of the Consort of Saint Sepulchre), which
specialised in the performance of works by Purcell, Byrd, Lawes, Jenkins (whose
music John adored) and other composers of that genre. He worked regularly with
the New Irish Chamber Orchestra and went with them to Italy in 1975 (where,
amazingly, he sat through an entire performance of Handel’s Messiah),
Sicly in 1977, and China in 1980, a trip that
he greatly enjoyed. He regularly tutored the annual Irish Recorder Society
courses and viol-playing sessions at An Grianán, Termonfechin, which were
organised by Theo Wyatt. By this time, he and Ruth had moved to Bray, County
Wicklow.
At around
this time in his life, John recollected a journey to the Great Blasket Island,
off the west coast of Ireland, which was made in a currach over a rough sea
during the 1940s, when the island was still inhabited. He relished the
experience of living and drinking with the locals in their rough cottages and
listened to the simple music and songs that they performed. John was well read,
loved simple ethnic pots, Byzantine icons (especially those darkened with age),
and was heavily influenced by the writings of his cousin Samuel Beckett, James
Joyce (whom Samuel had worshipped) and Kafka. He developed a liking for the
sparse, angular shapes of Chinese and Japanese calligraphy, which was mirrored
in his extraordinary handwriting. The roughness and irregularity of a Japanese
tea bowl fascinated him. His two greatest treasures were a bamboo chair,
purchased in China, and an old Black Forest clock, which had been fixed by
Cathal Gannon and about which he often spoke. He also relished well-flavoured,
peasant food and had a strong penchant for garlic which he often carried in his
pocket, using the cloves to flavour his much-loved whiskey.
John
venerated James Joyce to the same extent that he worshipped J. S. Bach. Joyce’s
Ulysses was Beckett’s bible; he
claimed that he read it religiously once every year. He visited Joyce’s grave in Switzerland with
his close friend Paul Conway; they also made an extensive trip around Germany,
visiting all the places associated with Bach. He had travelled to Switzerland specifically to
see a collection of paintings by Paul Klee, an artist whom he greatly admired.
Throughout
his life, John wrote letters in his almost unreadable handwriting or banged
them out in an unchanging style on an ancient typewriter, which often was in
need of a fresh ribbon. Addresses on envelopes were often handwritten and
caused great difficulty for the postal service. His musical manuscripts were
also very difficult to read and singers often had trouble in deciphering the
words of songs.
In 1983 he
sold his house and harpsichord and left Ireland for good, moving with Ruth (and
his cat, Murray) to Greenwich in London. As his health was poor – he had
suffered a number of heart attacks – his doctor had warned him against any more
conducting. He later had a hip replaced. He worked, until he retired, for BBC
Radio 3, producing music programmes and reporting on ‘foreign’ tapes. When he
lost his beloved Ruth in 1995 and then, in December 2004, his sister Ann, he
lived alone and became somewhat reclusive and depressed. John had visited Ann
in Dublin on a regular basis and more frequently when she became ill; after she
had died, he could not be persuaded to return to Ireland and refused to attend
a reunion of the Beckett family in Dublin. The negative image that he always
seemed to have of himself – he felt somewhat overshadowed by his more famous
cousin – became more pronounced and he was inclined to be morbid. He requested
that Japanese music for the shakuhachi (an
end-blown flute) be played at his funeral. He died, sitting in his chair,
listening to his radio, on the morning of 5th February, 2007. He was discovered
by Paul Conway, who had travelled from Dublin to surprise him on his eightieth
birthday.
ASSESSMENT AND CHARACTER
John was one of the first
generation of brilliant harpsichordists that emerged in the middle of the last
century. His playing was marked by energy and ebullient rhythm, always with the
utmost clarity, and he was highly regarded as a continuo player by his
contemporaries in the UK. A most affectionate and faithful friend, John could
be a bitter opponent with a very sharp tongue. He worshipped J. S. Bach, and
held Handel, Vivaldi and Corelli in extraordinary contempt. Other favourite
composers were Mahler, Schubert, Chopin, Brahms and Fauré. He came to
appreciate the French baroque composers late in life, thanks to the
encouragement of one of his students. He disliked the sound made by some
contemporary orchestras performing baroque music on period instruments. He once
told Cathal Gannon that he would love to conduct a performance of Strauss
waltzes.
Like many conductors who are
wonderful with choirs, his relationship with orchestras was (by comparison)
slightly stand-offish. They saw little nuance in his arm movements, which
tended to be extra large; and while
orchestral players prefer to be shown things by gesture in the course of
rehearsing, John’s method was to mark each
player’s part, in great detail, in soft black pencil (having completely erased
all previous markings) in advance of the first rehearsal, and then to give
further instructions verbally. Reading his handwritten music, especially his
continuo parts, which were thick with chords, was just as difficult as reading
his handwriting.
When recording, John nearly always
delivered the goods on the first take. Very often the best buzz of all was to
be had in the final rehearsal. Despite a confident exterior, he was not at his
happiest in public performance, appearing
to scowl at the musicians when conducting.
This did not prevent him, when a performance went particularly well, from
repeating an entire Cantata at a Sunday afternoon concert.
Often regarded as a formidable,
gruff individual, he was generally a good and encouraging teacher, though he
could at times be demanding. He stretched his students to their limits, but
most were grateful to him for what he had taught them and for the fact that he
had made them play music that, without his encouragement, they would never have
tackled. Inwardly, he was very tense; it was his custom to leave for work very
early in the morning lest he get caught in traffic, which was something that he
absolutely dreaded. He regularly arrived at venues hours ahead of schedule and
the 8 o’clock rehearsals for the Bach Cantatas always began at one minute to
eight.
(Charles Gannon, Andrew Robinson,
Gillian and Lindsay Armstrong, Rhoda Draper, Paul Conway and Brigid Ferguson.)
Website design by Charles Gannon. Contact: cg_info@inbox.com. Updated December, 2007.