Jan in 35 Pieces

In his memoir, Jan in 35 Pieces, acclaimed cellist Ian Hampton recounts his years of music and camaraderie, ably capturing his life-long dedication to the history and culture of classical musical performance.

Reviews

This creatively structured, memorable memoir includes a mix of humorous anecdotes and classical music trivia.

An accomplished cellist, Ian Hampton has played with the London Symphony Orchestra and numerous prominent string quartets. He is known for his versatility when it comes to playing pieces spanning centuries. As Jan in 35 Pieces: A Memoir in Music proves, he’s also quite a storyteller. The book mixes humorous anecdotes and classical music trivia with the chronology of Hampton’s life. It is a creatively structured and memorable work.

Hampton writes his memoir in the third person, referring to himself by his nickname, Jan, which allows him to take a more novelistic approach. That choice makes the book more enjoyable, as does its unusual structure. As the title suggests, Hampton has divided his life into thirty-five chapters, each centered around a different piece of music. Each of these chapters tells an anecdote related to the piece before transitioning to a chronological portion of Hampton’s biography.

For example, for Igor Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring, the chapter begins with an adult Jan discussing the piece with one of his students, flashes back to 1946, when he first heard it, and then considers his later experience recording it with the London Symphony Orchestra; it recalls both instances while mixing in the story of the piece’s controversial 1913 premiere and an explanation of why it’s challenging to play. Works like Mozart’s The Magic Flute, Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos, and even the Beatles’ `Ticket to Ride’ receive similar treatment, with Hampton’s story melding to the music that played such a big part in it.

This approach lets Hampton augment what could have been a straightforward biography with plenty of funny stories about his career, bits of dialogue between fellow string players that capture the camaraderie of musicians who have played together for years, and little snapshots of his colleagues’ biographies. Jan in 35 Pieces is a consistently interesting memoir that also serves as a well-written love letter to classical music and the experience of playing it.


– Jeff Fleischer

`Hampton says he never kept journals and so wrote his book from memory, yet his long­ago observations remain sharp. In wartime England, the young Jan’s landlady is “a diminutive octogenarian with a face like a well­stored crab­apple,” who cuts her tiny lawn with a pair of scissors. His ears are observant, too. The trains that pass present­day Jan’s house each morning across the Burrard Inlet are distinguishable to his musician’s ears as “`The Sorcerer’s Apprentice’ one, then the `Britten’ one, and then the `Glenn Miller’ one.” Later, a clock “chimes the quarter hour in minor sixths.”

`As an evocation of a lifestyle it is a delightful education for all readers, and as an educational manual, it is essential reading for anyone with aspirations of a career in music.’


– Becky Toyne

`This is one of the most interesting memoirs I’ve read in quite some time…. Frequently we are treated to Hampton’s piquant, insightful comments about various composers. For example, writing about Beethoven, he says, “Beethoven pricks out vanity, pokes at complacency, takes the scruffs of our necks and drags us to places we don’t recognize.” At times, there is a poignancy to his storytelling that moved me to tears. Writing about his experiences as a very young cellist during the years following WWII, he offers the following vignette, “…he packs up his cello and takes the Undergound to Piccadilly and Lyons Corner House where he is subbing for musicians taking summer holidays. With Schelomo’s sorrowful melody still in his ears, he sits down next to the leader of the band and his gaze falls on the numbers tattooed on her forearm. Lily Mathé is a Hungarian woman who played violin in the camp orchestra, serenading the prisoners filing to the gas chambers at Auschwitz. Playing, she had watched her parents file past. `They never looked up’, she said.” ‘


– Howard Dyck

`The book is a gem crammed with humour, history, humanity, and unexpected insights, not the least of which is a validation of the status of the West Coast in world music….’


– Phyllis Reeve

`Cellist Ian Hampton has created a lyrical reflection on the world of music and classical composers and musicians in the seven decades since World War II. Beautifully written, the book is structured around thirty-five pieces of memorable music. In vivid strokes, Hampton introduces us to the great conductors, performers and composers he encountered as a musician in England, California and finally, the west coast of Canada. Along the way, he introduces us to some of the finest music the world has produced. By turns reflective and humorous, this beautifully paced book chronicles the trials and triumphs of a life devoted to music and defined by the people he worked with and loved.’


– RBC Taylor Prize citation

`Jan in 35 Pieces is a delightful, light-hearted and fond romp through a life that transcends continents, war, hardship, fun, friendship, love, and above all, music.’


– Sean Bickerton, Director of Canadian Music Centre BC

Awards

  • ForeWord Indies Book Award 2019, Long-listed
  • BC Book Prizes – Hubert Evans Non-Fiction Prize 2019, Short-listed
  • RBC Taylor Prize 2018, Short-listed
  • Excerpts & Samples ×

    From “One: Arlequin”

    1942

    Down London’s Baker Street, Jan and his mother, Elf, pick their way around shards of glass and pieces of masonry on their way to Jan’s cello lesson. As they pass Madame Tussaud’s, Jan notices that a landmark building has disappeared; the skyline beyond Marylebone Road looks different. Instead of the building, there’s a gap through which Jan can see a cluster of barrage balloons like giant ears, straining on their ropes.

    He walks with his mother in silence. London is often quiet after a bombing. Petrol is rationed and there is little traffic apart from the double-decker buses. They always catch the six a.m. workers’ bus from home-the village of Radnage-to High Wycombe. Jan sits with Elf and looks out the window. If his father, Colin, takes him, they sit upstairs where smoking is allowed; the fumes of Woodbines always make Jan’s eyes smart. He follows Elf out of the bus and onto the platform, past the poster of a ship sinking under the words “Walls Have Ears”, past the old, red machine on the railway platform that reminds Jan of a tomb standing in mute testimony to those golden days of pre-war Rowntrees Chocolate Bar sixpence, then into the 7:15 train from High Wycombe to Marylebone: “Please shew your ticket”.

    Then they arrive in London and search for breakfast. Jan always makes a game of seeing which café in the district cooks the best dried [powdered] egg. Lyons Corner House is the preferred eatery with their scrambled egg on toast. Once the cashier is paid, Elf and Jan continue on the journey, passing the Royal Academy of Music and turning down Nottingham Place.

    Now after Baker Street’s gaps and shards of glass, this street is untouched-the same dreary row of townhouses, except the metal railings which used to guide you to their black front doors have been removed to be turned into guns. Jan knocks on 34-the London Cello School.

    Reader Reviews

    Details

    Dimensions:

    280 Pages
    8.70in * 5.50in * 1.20in
    16.58oz
    480.00gr

    Published:

    May 15, 2018

    Publisher:

    Porcupine’s Quill

    ISBN:

    9780889844131

    Featured In:

    All Books

    Language:

    eng

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