Class prejudice is keeping talented children out of classical music

Musicians have always had an uncertain social status in England, the traditional reactions varying from amused condescension to mild repulsion. The former was the old class-based judgment on men who had chosen to take up a profession which at best was associated with society women and at worst seemed menial; the latter directed towards brass players from rough backgrounds whose lips juggled pint pots with mouthpieces and not much else. The most respectable practitioners were probably organists, often referred to as ‘funny little men’, but taken seriously. As evidence of the class-based comment, this was Lord Chesterfield’s advice to his son towards the end of the 18th century: ‘If you love music, hear it; go to operas, concerts and pay fiddlers to play to you; but I insist upon your neither piping nor fiddling yourself. It puts a gentleman in a very frivolous, contemptible light…Few things would mortify me more, than to see you bearing a part in a concert, with a fiddle under your chin, or a pipe in your mouth.’

The class system has weakened since Chesterfield’s time, but if there is any walk of life where instinctive prejudice is still to be found it is in music. At one level there is nothing more telling than eager promoters referring to a troupe of doughty professionals as ‘girls and boys’, no doubt anticipating an evening of carefree fun with entertainers to match. But there is a more serious side to the mindset, which shows itself when politicians talk about funding music lessons.

Here we come to conflicting prejudices, minutely examined by David Wright in his excellent new study of the Associated Board exams and their history (The Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music: A Social and Cultural History, Boydell Press 2013).