...to Dame Myra Hess, born 1890. She was a British concert pianist who, during WW2, when the concert halls of London closed, organized lunch-time concerts at the National Gallery. I'm not sure if the National Gallery has relocated since then, but it was at the National Gallery in London where I discovered the paintings of J. M. W. Turner. I remember standing in a room surrounded by his work and being mesmerized. I marched directly to the gift shop and bought a book about him and his paintings which now rests on the shelf behind my piano. I have digressed.I might not know the name Dame Myra Hess if my parents had not bought a Readers Digest record collection called Great Piano's Greatest Hits--seven or eight albums of some of the greatest piano concertos in classical music history. While the other kids were listening to Bobby Sherman and The Partridge Family, I had my ear glued to the console stereo filling my dreamy head with pianists like Earl Wild and Myra Hess playing Chopin and Debussy. Freaky kid, I suppose.
Anyway, happy birthday.
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The National Gallery is still the National Gallery, young Robyn.
And now that I am suddenly without Americans to show round London, how about coming over so we can wallow in museums and galleries?
Lynn, hee hee. She does look a little like a he, doesn't she, or he, or whatever.