A different picture

There’s more to Dame Myra Hess than her morale- boosting National Gallery concerts — not least her formidable piano skills, writes Jessica Duchen

- Jessica Duchen

I've wanted to write a biography of the pianist Dame Myra Hess for as long as I can remember. Certainly, since my mother, who was also named Myra, first told me about the National Gallery lunchtime concerts that Hess ran during World War II, bolstering the people's morale while under attack. These ran on weekdays for six-and-a-half years, weaponising the love of music into an act of resistance.

The crowds flocked to Trafalgar Square, with attendances of well over a thousand, come rain, shine or bombs. It proved beyond doubt the deep, human need for great music, even or especially at the worst of times. ‘IT IS SAID SOMETIMES THAT MUSIC IS A FORM OF ESCAPE,’ Hess noted when the series closed in 1946, ‘but the experience of these years has made us understand that it is infinitely more IMPORTANT THAN THAT.’ The caps are hers.

If Hess had made the equivalent achievement in visual art, theatre or literature, there might have been a library shelf dedicated to her. Instead, the UK publishing industry tends to treat classical music as the kiss of death. There were only two previous books about her, both long out of print. Most articles talk either about her recordings which she loathed making or the, ahem, ‘iconic’ National Gallery concerts. Some assume she cannot have been worth remembering beyond the latter. But those concerts were only possible because Hess was already one of Britain’s greatest pianists and a significant international superstar. She had the clout to keep them going against all odds.