Last night at King’s Place Stephen Hough gave a riveting account of Liszt’s B-minor sonata, so thunderous as to terrify the under-age, so still as to unnerve the most complacent patrons of the Mayor’s Fund for Young Musicians. He took every risk in the book, plus some of his own.
This was a pro bono performance, squeezed into a tight diary. When I went to see him afterwards, he was dashing off to Liverpool, his home, town, where, as I write this note, he will be receiving an honorary doctorate. So it’s Doctor ‘ough, from now.
He may have to change hats for the ceremony. Bless.