Loving Miss Hatto (2012)

[bunniefuu]

Joyce wasn't a big fan of eulogies.

She wasn't interested in

what people thought about her.

She used to say,

"I play the music,

and that's enough."

But since she d*ed,

a huge number of people

have talked about her

and what her music

meant to the world

and - sorry, Joyce -

just to give you a tiny flavour.

Radio Three called her musicality

an inspiration.

"A virtuoso with

an awesome pianistic technique."

The Independent, "I know of

no pianist in the world

"who is her superior,

musically or technically."

And some people have said

how sad it was

that illness cut short

her concert career

and that her recording success

came so late in life.

Joyce didn't say that.

She wasn't interested in success,

she was only interested

in the music.

Joyce Hatto doesn't matter,

she would say,

it's only the music that matters.

So I'm going to shut up now.

I can imagine Joycey looking down

saying, "Get on with it, Barrie."

I'll leave you with the most

important bit of Joyce.

The music.

Just one picture, please!

'Hi, Barrie - James Inverne again.

I'm sorry about the tabloids,

'we had no choice

but to publish the story.

'I'm afraid we now have even more

evidence about Joyce's recordings.

'I suggest you call me. Thanks.'

This is Barrington-Coupe here.

I'm prepared to talk.

Give you the whole story.

She's jolly good.

She's not a student, is she?

Yes. Joyce Hatto.

She must be going places.

Well, girls - they always have that

toss up about babies, don't they?

Lovely.

No, I agree, she's one to watch.

Very, very good!

Well done, Miss Hatto.

A round of applause, boys, please,

for our rehearsal pianist.

Golly, sorry.

No, no, it's my fault, sorry.

I forgot I was holding them.

Oh, Lord, are they all out of order?

Oh, I'll sort them out.

I'm Barrie, by the way.

Barrington-Coupe. Barrie. Either...

"Eether". You say potahto.

And I know who you are - obviously.

Do you want a hand?

No, no, no, I'm used to

wrestling with chunks of music.

I work for a music publishers.

Hence my manly physique!

Mr Coupe, when they're in order

I'll have them, thank you.

Two ticks, Miss Guisely.

Just wrestling with them.

That was brilliant, by the way.

I'm just the rehearsal dogsbody,

not needed on voyage.

Oh, well, it won't get any better

tonight - it couldn't.

That was just...

It was very moving.

We aim to please.

You wouldn't fancy a cup of tea

or something, I suppose, would you?

Well, I suppose I could.

As long as I get the bus by...

I don't know any places. I'm...

I'm a Thermos kind of girl.

I'm sure we could strike out

and find somewhere.

Mr Coupe, lovely to see you

and all that

but I was rather hoping you might

bring me up the music... Sorry.

Which, I believe,

was the reason for your visit?

I bet you've had all the agents

sniffing around, haven't you?

Oh, no, I haven't, really.

I haven't really

had any big recitals.

I'm not really one of

the sort of chosen few.

The golden boys? Yes!

Some of them have

concert tours booked

and they haven't even graduated.

You could do a concert tour.

Liszt.

I bet you're brilliant at Liszt.

Go on, you love him, don't you?

Oh, I do love him.

And Chopin!

I have this mad urge to do

the Godowsky Variations.

Do you know them?

No, I do know them.

I'd love to hear you play them.

Well, come back to me

in about ten years, then.

Actually, I sort of think

I play a little bit better

when no-one's listening.

Not much of a career,

playing in the front room!

I'd love to do

the whole concert thing,

but you have to be pretty tough.

No, you don't need to be tough,

you just need someone in your corner

who'll do all

the tough stuff for you.

I don't really have too many people

in my corner.

Well, um...

I'm all for love's young dream, but

some of us have got homes to go to.

Seems a bit peculiar, why are you

auditioning for a French man?

French genius.

Alfred Cortot is going to take

five of us next term, one-on-one.

We're all going to play

and he's going to choose his five.

Five's not many.

Barrie thinks I'm in with a chance.

He thinks Cortot and I

are very sympathique!

Oh, so, this was

BARRIE'S suggestion?

You don't have to say his name

like you're holding it with tongs.

I'm not sure that I approve

of all this boosting you up.

If that's viscose

it'll need a cloth.

Where's the bottle?

Barrie thinks I have a future

doing big concerts.

Barrie didn't see you

run off the stage with nerves

at the Chelsea Town Hall.

That was years ago.

Sleeves first.

Or sit there like a rabbit

in headlights at that charity do.

Oh, I was mortified.

Barrie and I are working on that.

What exactly is he, this Barrie?

He's a classical music impresario.

You want to talk to Daddy

about music people.

Daddy's a baker, what does

he know about music people?

Remember the Beverley Sisters'

wedding cake

and all those shenanigans?

They were music people,

if you call that music.

I think he sounds wily, this Barrie.

You can't go living on compliments.

Sorry, sorry, I'm late. Shirt collar

debacle. What time's kick off?

Cortot's gone in.

I should go and warm up.

Are you ready for this ordeal?

Yes, I'll see you in there, Erich!

I'll see you in there!

He's German.

Joyce, you can absolutely do this.

Keep your eye on the prize -

learning from Cortot.

This is your big chance, Joyce.

Keep telling yourself -

you deserve this.

Oh, Lord, now I'm getting emotional!

Thank you, Robert.

And can we have Joyce Hatto, please?

Playing?

Sorry?

You are playing?

Oh, sorry. Schumann.

Fantasie Opus 17.

Sorry...

Sorry, I just need to...

OK. So Cortot's a blithering idiot

and he's picked five no-hopers

who won't thr*aten him, but...

how'd it go for you?

How much did you hear?

Me? I never even

went into the college.

Well, I was pretty pleased.

Good! Couple of bishes,

but the emotion was there.

That's what probably scared him off,

all that womanly passion!

Steady the buffs!

Old Erich didn't get through either.

Well, frog's not going to

pick a Kraut, is he?

Anyway, this time next year,

Miss Hatto,

you can forget that bunch of

desiccated old shirt-lifters,

because you will be under the care

of Barrington-Coupe

Artistes Management

and you will be heading

straight for the stratosphere.

Fancy a bun? Oh, yes, I love buns.

I'm not sure you should be

signing a contract

without showing it to your father.

What does Daddy know about

artists' management? Nothing!

He knows about invoices.

Yes.

This isn't an invoice,

it's a management agreement.

Between me and Mr Barrington-Coupe.

It's not an order for

two-dozen coffee eclairs.

What's he going to do,

this Barrington-Coupe,

once you've signed it?

He's going to manage my career.

Your teaching?

I'm not doing teaching!

How many more times...

I mean, I might do

a bit of teaching,

but basically I'll be

building up my concert profile

and if you don't want to

witness my signature

then I'll take it to Barrie's office

and get one of the girls there

to do it.

Sorry to have bothered you.

Morning, Joyce.

Sorry, excuse me,

I was just looking for

Mr Barrington-Coupe's office

and I only have his card from when

he was working here. Barrie? Yes.

I wasn't sure where

his new offices were.

He doesn't have another office,

but I think he's in now.

He's here? No, he'll be on the fifth

floor. It's his late morning.

Seidelman Music Publishing.

I know, that was my posh voice!

I was looking for your office.

Is this where you live?

The thing is...

The girl didn't seem to know

anything about a new office.

And I thought you lived in Henley.

Look, Joyce... No, I don't think

I will look, thank you.

Because I seem to be

looking at a liar

and someone who's made a pretty good

idiot out of me by buttering me up.

Why did you say

you could help my career?

What on earth did you think

you were playing at?

Because I can help your career.

Managing someone's career is about

passion and instinct and empathy,

and I've got all that.

And no, I don't have filing

cabinets and switchboards.

But you said you did!

Because I will have!

I visualise things

and then I make them happen.

And now I've ballsed it all up.

So, yes, I'm a liar.

Live in one horrible room.

It's my mother who lives in Henley

and she's not very keen on me.

And I saw something in you

and I wanted to make it work for you

and I got a bit ahead of myself

because I could see it all

so clearly.

And I am heartbroken

that I've messed it all up.

Oh, Lord, don't cry.

Well, I will cry.

Because I can't bear

that I've lost you.

Do you really believe in me

as a pianist?

No question.

I'm sorry for the muddle.

Be careful going down the stairs,

they've got a bit of a dip in them.

You're a lovely girl, Joyce.

Hardly. I've got wonky hair!

That's what your mother makes

you see, that's not what I see.

You're lovely.

And you're sweet. And funny.

That's what I see anyway.

Or did see.

We can't have any more muddles.

We won't.

Scout's honour.

Were you a Scout? No.

Thought not.

Can you make tea?

Oh, yeah.

I'll, erm... I'll get the milk.

I'll, erm, I'll just get the milk.

That's enough, Horace.

Three's enough.

Shall I get someone

to take the four of us?

No, don't go bothering people.

Excuse me.

Sorry, daughter's wedding.

Are you sure you don't want to

go out for a nice supper?

No, honestly, we've got

so much to do at the house.

Wallpapering waits for no man.

Oh, are you waiting for a man?

We could have given you

the name of a man.

No, no, we're going to

do it ourselves.

I thought you were waiting

for a man. Say cheese.

Or should it be Tchaikovsky?

Don't try and be funny, Horace.

Your case is upstairs, Mrs BC.

Do you, er, fancy turning in?

Yes, yes, let's go up.

Did I, erm... Did I hear

something about a negligee?

Yes.

Would you want me to put it on?

I'll say.

Let the dog see the rabbit.

What?

Er, nothing.

Look, I'll, er...

I'll go for a stroll.

Nice married man's stroll.

And, er, you sort yourself out

and I'll see you in the boudoir.

Do you think I should

just check the piano?

It's fine, it's got all its legs.

In a while, crocodile.

Joycey?

Oh, Lord, negligee,

wedding night, sorry.

You carry on.

I'll have another

scrape at the banisters.

Yes, I shall get my secretary to

type that up for you

and I shall see you with

Miss Hatto on the 24th...

Looking forward to it...

OK. Bye, bye.

Mrs Barrington-Coupe, just putting

in another booking for Miss Hatto.

What do you do when they ask to

speak to the secretary?

I say she's on the other line.

Have you got two lines?

No. Now, look at this.

Kirkcaldy and Pitlochry

all booked in.

Letchworth, Evesham, Spalding,

music club circuit

looks like it might happen.

Golly, it's really filled up!

I said it would.

Oh, and look what came

back from the printers!

I'm hardly acclaimed or

international.

Just one nice review from Ventnor.

Let me explain something to you.

I go to see Joyce Hatto.

The poster says -

Joyce Hatto hasn't done much.

I don't have

much of an evening, do I?

But if I give over my 17 and 6

to see Joyce Hatto -

acclaimed international pianist...

I have a fantastic evening!

But the playing will be the same!

Everyone in this agency can play!

What matters is the story.

Now, you play,

I'll figure out the story.

No-one to move Miss Hatto's

stool, thank you!

OK, gents, OK, OK, OK.

I just need to hear the strings on

their own - this is Jealous Lover.

You've all got

Jealous Lover, haven't you?

If nine of you play Jealous Lover

and one plays Dangerous Moonlight

it'll be a long day.

I shall see you in there.

Er, shall I play, Barrie?

Why not?

It is your album, after all.

Do you want to count them in,

Joycey, just for now?

OK.

On my wife's count.

Two, three, four, one, two.

Barrie!

We'll get there with

the babies, Ducky.

The doc said it was nobody's fault.

Nice, aren't they, those radios?

I'm bringing 4,000

in from Hong Kong.

I'm on a whacking profit.

Velly nice.

Have you given up

the record label, then?

No! In fact, we've just

signed a new artist!

Oh...

just Joyce.

Music from the Films.

You look quite beaky in profile,

you'd have done better full-face.

This is more like it -

Dream Of Olwen.

We thought we'd make some more

albums this year.

And get Joyce

back on the road next year,

when she's bounced

back from the, erm...

And I'm going to do

a bit of teaching. Mother?

You could play the accordion, Joyce.

Just two days a week, nice private

girls' school in Hertfordshire

What will you do, go from Euston?

Sshh, Andy Stewart -

turn it up, Barrie!

Faster! Faster!

Now, how do we think Chopin would

have played it?

I'm Miss Hatto, and you are?

I'm Elizabeth Jane Pilkington,

Miss Hatto.

EJ Pilkington at 11:30, very good.

So, who are you?

Please, she's Eleanor Margaret Bird

and she doesn't

have to do Domestic Science

because her mother's just d*ed.

So, I thought she might like to come

and help me have my lesson.

Pilks!

Eleanor Margaret Bird, do you find

that in any way an appealing plan?

Yes, it is, please, thank you.

Shoes off, then, girls!

Now, Miss EJ Pilkington,

are you Elizabeth,

Betty, Beth, Lizzie?

What do I call you?

Oh, I'm Pilks. And she's Birdy.

Very good. Birdy and Pilks - hop up!

Each of you put a foot

on the pedal. Birdy, you're soft

and Pilks, you're sustain.

Now, I'm going to play and when

I shout out, you're going to pedal.

Mm-hm?

Sustain!

Soft!

Sustain!

Soft!

Oh, Serge!

You called, m'lady?

I was talking to the dog.

So hard to tell.

Now, I bet Miss Hatto has never

mentioned this, has she?

Wow!

Or this?

And this, you are

the first people to see this.

Now, this isn't even

in the shops yet.

Bax?

Not easy to play, unless you happen

to be Miss Hatto, of course.

And when Miss Hatto plays

the Festival Hall... there will,

of course, be two seats reserved

in the name of Birdy and Pilks.

The Festival Hall - that's so posh!

And just to prove I'm not completely

useless myself - make a tray -

make a tray!

Present from Golders Green via

Hong Kong - the smallest

Dictaphone in the world.

It's like Crackerjack!

Do you have any comment to make?

Right, scrap that one...

suppose we start with the Bach?

No, these are big concert halls,

you have to start with a bang,

set your stall out.

Prokofiev.

No messing about.

Right, scribble this down

because I am in the groove, daddy-o.

Right, Prokofiev to kick off.

I've got a big hole in my second

half, then.

Yes? Mr Coup,

we're from Customs and Excise.

Joyce. What?

It's not about the dog again, is it?

We try and keep him in!

It's about the radios.

Radios?

It's just a muddle.

Are they all here, Mr Coupe?

No, no, there are some

in the garage and, er,

some in the box room

on the top floor.

Start upstairs, Mendelssohn,

you can get Parker to help.

A policeman called Mendelssohn!

We'll need all the paperwork,

of course.

Yes, yes, of course.

Sorry, er, I don't understand.

Are the radios faulty,

are they being recalled?

It's a purchase tax issue.

We're impounding them.

It's just a muddle, Joycey.

I'll just have to go with them

to sort it out.

Not today, though, surely!

I'm preparing some

important concerts

and we need to sort out

the programme.

I'm afraid we don't usually arrest

people at their own convenience.

Can we take the gentleman

up with us, sir, make sure we're

taking the right things?

Do you know how long it will take?

I was going to do chops.

I can't say. We won't starve him.

I don't understand what's happened.

He's been importing all sorts

of things for nearly a year.

So we've gathered.

He may have got in a muddle

with his paperwork.

We've been a bit distracted

planning these concerts.

I mean, it's not a serious of fence?

It's a very serious of fence.

Dog behaving himself?

Yes. That's good.

Not knocked over any more gnomes?

No.

How's the playing?

What playing would that be?

Oh, come on, Joyce.

Would that be the playing

for the big concert series?

I had to cancel that, didn't I?

Because the promoter's

on trial at the Old Bailey.

Why do you bother to come,

Joyce? Well...

I'm still hoping to hear

some kind of explanation.

I was just doing what every other

bugger in business does,

if they think they can

get away with it.

I didn't rob a bank.

I just skimped on some paperwork.

We needed the money... We needed

money because you made

such a lamentable fist

of being a concert promoter.

No, Joyce, we needed

the money because...

Because what?

It doesn't matter.

Don't stop.

I'm sure that's one thing you didn't

miss - me murdering Godowsky.

I missed all of it.

I was a nit.

They're doing a big Chopin

thing at the Festival Hall.

They called me.

I thought I might give it a bash.

Toe in the water.

No boosting required.

Are you going self-op,

or can a pal come along?

Pal's always nice.

Getting the feel, Miss Hatto?

Everyone's parked up, your mother's

been to the Ladies, all serene!

I can't get this...

Here, let me...

Leave it. I'll do it later.

Come on...

we've worked for this.

Play how you play at home.

Never mind about the stool

and people fanning themselves

with their programmes,

just play the music.

This is us back in the game, hm?

The old firm!

The two before you, they're not

going to set the Thames on fire.

No hoper, no hoper, Hatto,

interval, perfect.

Get on, get off, get out. Yep?

See you later, alligator.

Good luck, Miss Hatto!

Ready for off?

Always has to fiddle.

I thought I could do it.

But I couldn't do it.

Look, there's...

There's a thing you

have to have inside...

to really make it.

And I don't have it.

Maybe neither of us do.

Maybe we just flew too high.

Melted our wings?

Melted our wings, Ducky.

We'll be all right.

We'll be all right.

People say to me, "Oh, Liszt

is so romantic," and I say,

"No, you're wrong, he's not

romantic, he's passionate,

"and there's every difference

in the world."

And I say, "There's no point in

waving your arms about like a dying

"duck in a thunderstorm, because if

you don't feel the power from here,

"then it doesn't matter

what you feel about Liszt,

"you won't be doing him

justice when you play."

Absolutely, we'll remember

that when Claudie gets on to Liszt.

Say thank you

for the KitKat, Eleanor.

Thank you, Miss Hatto.

See you next Monday - thank you!

People think it's from the wrist,

but the wrists have nothing to do

with it. It's all from here.

'...Into a full blown

squabble.

'But there is still no dominance,

despite...'

'..and Simon definitely

needs the discipline.'

I'm back.

Big drama with the new monkey?

Simon?

He's just bitten Arthur

and they've got rid of him!

I knew it.

It's an accident waiting to happen.

How was the post office?

Very boring. Big queue.

Lots of old dodderers.

Isn't that the pot calling?

But what I did spot

while I was waiting...

Fanfare?

Oh, that's jolly nifty.

I should cocoa... Put them all in of

a Sunday night, Bob's your uncle,

and Fanny we don't talk about.

You didn't put the answer

machine on. I like this.

I know. I remembered

while I was in the queue.

You didn't pick up?

No, it rang a couple of times.

Oh, right, well, I'll just

put your horse pills in here

and then, erm, how are we feeling

about macaroni cheese?

We're feeling reasonably positive.

Hah, turn up the monkeys and call me

if the girl with

the bottom comes on.

'Now, it's low-ranking male

Arthur's turn.'

What's that idiot child

forgotten now?

I'm so sorry just to ring

the doorbell.

I did phone earlier,

but got no reply.

I am looking for Concert Artists,

the record label?

Yes, yes that's us. How can I help?

I'm only in England for a couple

more days and you have a couple

of records on your website I would

very much like to get hold of.

I don't know if you keep stock here.

Well... I do.

Just tell me what you want

and I can pack them up.

Only take a few minutes.

Do you have the

Bax Variations by Hatto?

Yes, I can let you have that.

I've sold a surprising

number of those.

There's more Bax lovers

in the world than I knew.

I had never warmed to him

but I read a couple of positive

comments on Piano Fanatic

about the Hatto recording.

I'm sorry. Where was this?

Online.

I was intrigued to read these

comments about Joyce Hatto

because we were

at the Royal Academy together.

You were at the Academy with Joyce?

Yes, I studied piano

for a while there.

Get away! Well, Joyce is here!

We live together here!

Joyce is my wife. She'll be

delighted, come in, come in!

Joyce! Joycey!

Turn the monkeys off!

And do you remember that

ghastly audition for

the blessed Cortot masterclass,

and neither of us got it?

I was absolutely heartbroken, went

off and sobbed in the ladies...

My mind sings so much...

But you were not to be defeated,

whereas I did not have the right

sort of guts

to make it as a soloist.

Oh, Joyce has the guts but fate

hasn't been entirely kind to her.

Oh, it's just I have this silly,

silly cancer which I'm absolutely

not going to talk about,

but obviously it's meant that I

can't really perform much in public.

So sorry. But you've been able to

make recordings?

Yes. Yes, we haven't let

the grass grow.

I don't think I saw more than

a couple on the website,

there was the Bax and the Gershwin.

Well, I'm a little bit of a

fledgling at this website malarkey

but give me a couple of months

and hopefully it'll

be a different story.

No, because several posts have

asked, where you can buy more Hatto?

"Have you heard Hatto?"

"What else has she done?"

Ah, ah there you go - got it!

"Wowee, Crotchetman was right -

Hatto is awesome."

What does that mean?

And who the heck is Crotchetman?

Well, maybe he's a bit

further down here somewhere.

Yes, look!

"Thanks, HG, for posting Nocturne

from Bax Symphonic Variations.

The CD arrived and it is awesome

playing. Who is she?

What does it mean, posting Nocturne?

Yeah, well, move out the way a sec.

It means that some bright spark

on the other side of the world

has put a little bit of

Joyce Hatto on here...

and if you...

click it...

Golly.

You're on the world wide web, Ducky.

Nice to hear you play.

Hardly "playing!"

Who knew you had

an international following?

From one ancient CD!

Yeah, well, leave 'em wanting more.

What are you thinking, Ducky?

Oh, the Academy.

High hopes.

We've done all right.

We do pretty well for old codgers.

Do you remember what you said to me

when we met?

A lot of rubbish, no doubt.

You said all I needed was

someone in my corner to protect me,

make it all happen for me.

Sorry, have I

remembered that incorrectly?

Didn't I say I was worried I didn't

have the nerve for a solo career

and you said you had enough

nerve for both of us?

I was a bloody idiot. I was young.

Young people make promises because

they don't know what life's like.

What did you just say?

"We'd done pretty well"?!

If you call teaching piano

to dim-witted children

while you run a potty, one-man

record label in the spare bedroom

in a town that hasn't

even got a concert hall...

then your standards are even more

poverty-stricken than I imagined.

Don't leave your cocoa too long.

Are we ready? Yes?

Hang on, I just need to wedge it...

That should hold it.

Yes? Is it on? Yes - go!

Joyce! Come and listen to something.

Coming!

What do you think?

It's about the tempo

I used to play it?

Yes, it is.

Who is it? Please tell me it's

someone English,

I get so tired of

those endless Koreans!

It's someone very English. Good.

She's called Joyce Hatto.

No!

Was that one of my tapes?

Did you find the old tapes?

Oh, it was jolly good quality -

I thought you were up to something!

Did you do some computer things

to it?

No, well, I did try, I took them to

the chap at Wheathampstead

and he had a go at cleaning them up

but they're very old.

And they're not top quality.

I mean, they were only for fun.

Oh, so...

So, I was thinking about

what we'd been saying

about all those internet chappies

wanting a bit more Hatto,

and they're ain't no Hatto

to give them,

so, I took another recording,

and I followed all the temping,

the dynamics,

and so on, from your recording,

and I sort of did a new version.

What, you took another of my

recordings?

Well, no, because you didn't do any

other recordings.

I found one that was most like yours

and I stuck to your score markings

and I sort of...

Hattoised it.

So what you just played -

it's not me?

Well, in a musical sense it's you.

Yes, but in any sense that anyone

else would recognise it's not!

You are quite astounding!

Oh, get off your high horse.

You can't play.

You've got one brilliant recording

out there

and everyone's itching for more.

And you like to read about yourself

on the internet.

I just thought I'd do something

that would cheer you up.

All modern recordings are put

together note by note,

so what I was doing I didn't think

was so bad, or so different.

But, of course, in Joyce's world,

Barrie is always in the wrong,

because he can't be as clever,

or as right, or as good,

or as wronged as Joyce.

That's a big cake.

Don't you know there's a w*r on?

What can I get you?

In here? Botulism, I should think.

You know you're quite

right about modern recordings.

People today don't even have to

play the right notes.

I mean technicians do all that

afterwards, don't they?

Take out the bishes,

blend one note into another.

Since we've gone digital,

the sky's the limit.

Not like your day, Ducky,

where you had to struggle to get

through it without a mistake.

But there you are.

Oh, go on, I'll try a tiny bit.

Coffee and walnut.

You know, it would be jolly nice to

have a few more CDs whizzing around

the internet.

But thanks to the old lurgy, I can't

play like I used to, I haven't got

the feeling.

You can be as musical and

interpretative as you like,

but if you can't feel your finger

ends you might as well be

playing with mittens.

As you say, there we are.

Quite funny you should have made a

recording and I thought it was me.

Well, if you thought it was you,

think how many other people would

think it was you.

You've got a very naughty twinkle

in your eye, Mr Barrington Coupe.

Got to do something, Joyce.

We're both near enough

the bucket to kick it.

I could run a couple up

the flagpole, see if anyone salutes.

Keep Crotchetman happy?

I'm rather fond of Crotchetman.

You know this isn't half bad,

considering the place is so ghastly.

One in the eye for those

shirt-lifters on Radio Three.

Why, would you send them

to be reviewed?

Yes. We've got nothing to lose.

Joyce Hatto on the wireless...

that would be rather satisfying.

Would you, erm,

would you like a latte?

A latte?

Yes, all right, Mr BC.

I'll have a latte.

It's a great life

if you don't weaken!

It's my own fault for marrying

a blooming concert pianist.

Ducky, what say we get one of those

posh cakes with the strawberries on?

Can we afford?

Can we afford?

Have you seen the orders coming in?

The website's buzzing. Hattomania!

And you haven't had to lie on top of

a flipping concert grand to do it.

It's never too late.

I could give you a bunk up?

Did I hear your name on the radio

this morning?

Oh, probably.

They're just reviewing

one of Joyce's Chopin

recordings on Building A Library.

No biggie!

What time will that be on?

The programme starts at ten...

I shan't be listening, I've

really no interest.

You're not going to listen?

I don't believe in critics, it's the

music that matters.

I'd want to hear what

they were saying about me.

I'm not as high-minded as you!

Toodle-oo!

What time is it?

Starts in ten minutes.

Shall we go in now?

'And although I loved the

delicacy of the Ashkenazy, it didn't

'quite have the verve and, well,

just the sheer sparkle of the Hatto.

'In fact, I hope to be taking

a look at more Hatto

'recordings on a future programme.

'This lady seems to be having

something of a late flowering -

'can one say that,

or should I say a renaissance,

'that's possibly more polite.

'Anyway, that's my choice

for Building A Library,

that's

Joyce Hatto - Chopin Complete Etudes

and that's on the Concert Artist

label and...

Sounds like you might have your own

radio programme, Ducky.

Hardly,

but he seemed fairly intelligent.

Well, this isn't going to buy

the baby a new bonnet.

I've got to pop to the printers,

check the new cover for your Rach

Three,

because the one they faxed through

was absolutely shocking.

The things you have to

keep an eye on. And you love it.

Orders coming in, parcels going

out, fans all over the world,

of course I love it!

And because it's all for you, all

for Joyce Hatto.

Fan-dabby-dozy.

Right, and I'll pick up the bird

seed.

Don't forget the horse pills,

they should be in today.

Roger Wilco,

no peace for the wicked.

Barrie?

We're not wicked, are we?

Get away!

I'll tell you what's wicked.

The fact that it took forty years

to get Joyce Hatto on to the BBC.

That's wicked.

Did you put the machine on?

Oh, Barrie, you never remember!

Oh, er, Concert Artists,

can I help you?

'Yes, my name is Philip Hill.

'I wanted to speak to someone

about one of your artists.

'I actually did the review of the

Joyce Hatto Chopin this morning

'on Radio Three

on Building a Library

'and A: I wanted to order

more Hatto discs,

'but also I wondered whether you

had any way of contacting her

'as I'd be interested in talking

to her for a piece

'I'm writing for

Gramophone Magazine.'

Oh. Well, you are actually

speaking to her.

'One doesn't really expect a concert

pianist to answer the phone.

'I don't know if you heard

my review this morning?'

Er, no, I was playing the piano,

I'm afraid. I forgot to tune in.

My husband says that I'm

ridiculously non-publicity-minded,

very behind the times in that way.

I hope you were kind to me?

Ducky? Do I smell baking?

Buns? This is a turn up.

I've had a gentleman caller.

Oh, yes?

Well, telephonic caller, because you

didn't put the answer phone on.

Darn it. Sorry.

When I picked up, who should

it be but the gentlemen

who was so enamoured of

the Hatto Chopin Etudes

on the wireless this morning.

Oh, Philip thingy.

He was very delighted to find that

he was talking to the lady herself.

I bet he was. And we had a very nice

chat about Chopin

and the Liszt Transcendental Etudes

and Godowksys

and all sorts of things.

And it rather lifted my spirits

and I thought, we shall have buns,

buns is what we shall have.

Jolly good.

He phoned Concert Artists did he?

He's doing a piece

for the Gramophone

and he wants to talk to me.

About what, though, Ducky?

About my recording techniques.

Well, that's going to be a bit

awkward, isn't it? Why?

You don't have a recording

technique.

No, but I can tell him

how I play the pieces

and how I tackle a new piece.

Yes, I suppose so...

Well, when he rings, Joyce,

keep it vague.

You can talk about how you feel

about the music,

but we don't want to get into

the nuts and bolts of where we

record the things.

He's not ringing, he's taking us

out for lunch in Cambridge.

Are you potty?

No! I'm not potty!

He's got a lot of my CDs.

In fact, he was calling to order

some more, it's all on the pad.

Joyce, selling online,

getting reviews online,

chaps talking about you on

the radio, that's all fine,

but you can't sit down

with a journalist, face-to-face

and talk about how we make

these records.

Why? Because we didn't make them!

Think, sweetie! I mean, yes, they

sound like you, but they're not you!

Joyce, trust me, this is a bad idea!

Trust you? I remember trying

that a long time ago,

so, I'm very much once bitten there!

Oh, don't worry, I'll call him back.

I'll explain that

I'm not able to have

a nice lunch with an intelligent,

cultured music critic,

because MY husband has a very

limited view of my capabilities

and would rather I stayed at home

with nothing else to think about

but how long I've got to live!

Not too mutton?

Not mutton at all.

There you go!

Merci.

Hair? Luxuriant. Hmm.

I wasn't trying to spoil your fun,

Ducky,

putting the kibosh on meeting

Philip, I just thought,

we're safer flying under the radar.

I just fancied flying

a little higher.

Fly too high, your wings fall off.

My wings aren't going to last me

much longer anyway, are they?

Get your skates on,

the train waits for no man.

Bags I forward.

I said it first.

Come on then Mrs Barrington Coupe,

let's take Joyce Hatto out to lunch.

Thank you.

So, basically, Joyce,

since you gave up live performance,

you've just been working away

and when you feel a piece is ready,

you record it.

So, what do you do?

Just book a studio?

Well, I leave all that to Barrie.

I say my job is to make the bread

and Barrie has to put it

in the oven!

Yes, Joyce always says

working on a piece

is like making a loaf of bread - you

know, first you have to work it...

Yes, you work it and you knead it

and then you leave it to rise.

You have to let it become

what it wants to be.

Yeah, and once it's recorded,

Joyce never listens to it again.

Really? Not interested.

No, not interested. I don't do

retakes or whatever they're called.

I record it, I go home

and what people want to make of it

is up to them,

it's none of my business.

So, not much editing time,

then, Barrie?

Yes, as far as recording goes,

Joyce is a very cheap date!

When Barrie and I met, I was giving

a concert at the Strathmore

and he was a little bit bowled

over, weren't you?

He took me for a cup of tea

and he said,

"Would you like a cup or mug?"

I was desperate for a mug but I

thought it wasn't very ladylike,

so I said, "I'll have a cup ..."

A cup was thrupence.

And a mug was fivepence. That made

me a cheap date in Barrie's eyes!

Tired, sweetie?

Do you know, I'm absolutely not.

Wasn't it lovely talking about music

to someone who knew about it?

While you were in the ladies, he

said he was going to e-mail me

to get some facts straight.

We can cobble something together,

at least on the e-mail

you've got thinking time.

I thought we did very well with our

ducking and diving over lunch.

While you were in the gents, I told

him I was working on the Godowskys.

You didn't say you were

bringing them out?

I think I may have done.

You don't make life easy, Ducky.

You know there are only about

three versions to choose from.

Did you set the video

for Monkey World?

I did. End of a perfect day.

'Where do you usually

do these recordings?

'Well, you use a studio one year

'and the next

it's a blooming coffee shop.

'Or one of those tanning places,

we have one of those

'down the road, don't we, Barrie?

And if you can believe this,

'you have to stand up!

I mean it's umpetty pounds

'and you can't even lie down.'

Larry... 'How are you?'

I'm good. I'm doing a big piece

on this woman, Joyce Hatto.

'Yeah, I'm just reading about her,

I might do a piece myself.'

Yes, well you know,

the Gramophone found her first.

'Is she for real?

It's a heck of an output.'

No, I know, she does everything -

Bach, Messaien, Gershwin...

it's remarkable.

It's like listening to about

eight different pianists.

"Her illness has brought a depth

and gravitas to her playing"

Someone here thinks

she's more than one person.

Is she? More than one person?

'People are so bloody cynical.'

She's old, she's ill and she's good.

End of story.

I've got to go, Larry,

I'll ring you back.

Joyce Hatto?

Yes, I need to talk to her again.

I've had a call from someone

who knew her husband years ago.

Really?

He just said the husband doesn't

have the most blameless career path.

Well, he's a harmless old beggar

now, I mean, I've met him.

Well, this person, someone we both

know, said he heard Joyce Hatto

play in the '60s sometime.

I think at the Festival Hall.

And she did fistfuls of wrong notes

and then practically conked out

at the keyboard.

Well, I don't see what that's got

to do with her recording career.

No, but do check

all the facts won't you?

Of course. Now I know you will.

I mean, 40 years down the line,

she's obviously improved!

Yes.

Hope for us all!

Ah-ha! Hot-air balloon!

You don't want to drop the piece

in the Gramophone, do you?

It seems to have turned

into quite a big thing. No.

I think Mr Hill's going to make

a jolly good fist of it.

Bah, I thought that was bulrushes,

and it ain't.

It could be reflected bulrushes?

Oh, he's not as dumb as he looks!

Why are you saying drop it?

There was an answer phone

message from Philip, fact checking.

Said he couldn't find anything on

Rene Kohler, your esteemed

conductor.

Not surprising,

seeing as he doesn't exist!

I don't want to call him about it as

he will have more awkward questions.

Oh! Got the top of the lupin.

I could pop a little biog

on the internet, I suppose?

Poor Rene, obviously a foreigner.

So, just fit in there, thank you.

I think he may have trained

in Dresden.

Somewhere sadly flattened by bombs.

Philip, it's Larry.

Can you call me back?

Some more Joyce Hatto weirdness.

And how is Joyce?

Well, yeah, cancer isn't

a barrel of laughs, as you know.

We're keeping our peckers up

pretty well.

Having something to look forward to,

like your piece in the Gramophone.

That's as good as buns to

Joyce, that is.

Right. Now, we have a slight

problem. I believe the Gramophone

still hasn't received the

information they asked for.

That's very odd.

That was all sent in the post many

moons ago. I'll track it down.

But it will involve talking

to someone in Bangalore

with a slim grasp of the language.

There's something else, Barrie. A

friend of mine in New York, you see,

he ordered Joyce's

Transcendental Etudes.

Now he put it into iTunes,

the database recognised

it as the Etudes,

but, well, it came up with a

different name.

Well, that doesn't surprise me.

We've had Joyce Natto, Hitto...

No, no, no, it came up with the name

of another pianist, Laszlo Simon.

Well, there's no logic with

these computers.

Look, Barrie, people are asking

questions about Joyce's output,

questioning the names

of the orchestras.

Now, you've seen all the online

traffic, I know... Philip,

I beg you, do not

say anything of this to Joyce.

And I can't discuss it now.

But I need every little

bit of spirit I can muster

to go in there and be the person

I need to be for my darling wife.

I won't have her for long, Philip.

So I want us to go in there, both

of us with big smiles on our faces,

because Joyce is very sensitive.

Your championing of her

and the prospect of the piece

in the Gramophone are literally

what's keeping her going right now.

Can we carry on this

conversation later?

Oh, yes. We must, we must.

This Laszlo Simon snafu,

I'm as baffled as you are

and I certainly don't want him

getting all of Joyce's royalties!

Barrie was very good-looking.

Yes, and not quite as confident

as he looks there.

Really?

He had a certain air which was

misleading, as it turned out.

We were both vulnerable, I suppose.

Vulnerable people can protect

each other.

Oh, they can.

Or they can double their weaknesses.

But that's the gamble

in a marriage, isn't it?

Now, do have some of Barrie's

Swiss roll, baked in your honour,

and you can use any of the photos

you like for your piece.

Oh, thank you.

Could I just ask you

about your recording

of the Transcendental Etudes?

Of course.

Where did you record them?

Well...

we did them

in a tiny studio in Cambridge

and I was very tired

when I went in to play them.

But if you've done the work,

then somehow... the music can

take over and it did take over.

I almost didn't need to do anything.

And when I finished

playing the last piece...

there was just...

silence.

And all the technical people

on the other side of the glass...

just...

still.

Hmm.

Now, I have a little

parting gift for you.

I don't imagine we'll be

meeting again,

if I can contradict

dear old Vera Lynn.

Ah! Never gave you

my famous marmalade!

Ah, that's fine.

I... I had my present from Joyce.

What was that?

She gave me a test copy

of the Godowsky.

Did she?

I hadn't realised she'd been well

enough to record them.

Look, it's not one of her best.

She hasn't heard it, of course,

but it's not one of the finest.

I won't release it.

As a courtesy to me, Philip,

don't play it.

Look, Barrie, the editor

of the Gramophone wants to get

the Hatto Etudes compared

with the Laszlo Simon.

A proper digital comparison

by an independent source.

Now, can you tell me

if you think that will show up

any problem as far as Joyce's

recording is concerned?

No, I'm sure it won't.

So I can tell him to go ahead.

You fully accept the consequences?

Absolutely.

I'm pretty tired

of all this carping.

I see all this bumf the classical

music buffs put on the internet.

Well, if they think an F sharp that

Joyce played last Wednesday

sounds like a B flat Martha Argerich

played 20 years ago,

then quite frankly,

to use an expression Joyce hates,

which I rather like,

"They need to get a life!"

Now, this isn't just chocolate.

This is Belgian chocolate.

Mmm, Lovely.

Philip get off all right?

He said you gave him the Godowsky.

Yes.

Was I a naughty Hatto?

No harm done.

I forgot to ask him

when the piece was coming out.

It's coming out quite soon.

There hasn't been any more

stuff on the internet?

I thought Philip seemed

a little distant.

No. That's all d*ed down.

Eat up, Ducky.

It wasn't so wrong to do, was it?

No.

If things had been different, you'd

have been selling them all along.

Because I could play, couldn't I?

Oh, I'll say.

I knew that from the day you had

them standing in the aisles

at the Strathmore.

Typical Barrie exaggeration.

Just you and... Miss Guisely.

Enhancement.

Like the recordings.

No harm done.

Hertfordshire's Bonnie and Clyde.

We shan't die in a hail of b*ll*ts,

hopefully.

You'll manage, will you?

Looking forward to it, Ducky.

Fill the place with dancing girls.

Hmm...

You sure?

Go on.

Shame to waste it.

Don't you know there's a w*r on?

'And in a change to our

advertised programme,

'there will now be a tribute to the

acclaimed pianist, Joyce Hatto,

'whose death

was announced yesterday.

'Joyce Hatto had renaissance

in the last few years of her life,

'when unable to perform in concert

because of illness,

'she concentrated on recording.

'Many tributes have been paid...'

Got away with it, Ducky.

The top one's the Laszlo Simon

and the bottom one's Hatto.

They're identical.

And that can't happen unless one's

been copied from the other.

Now, here's the Rachmaninov

second and third.

That's Joyce on the top and that's

Yefim Bronfman on the bottom.

They're slightly different because

they've taken his and speeded it up

and then pitch corrected.

So you'll go ahead with the story.

We need to find one more fake

to put me in the clear legally.

Look, he...

He might just talk to me.

Sure. I mean, it's sad, isn't it?

I'm not trying to crush

the poor old bugger.

If he tells us the truth, I'll print

it and if he doesn't, he's had it.

I'm sorry the Gramophone has

got its knickers in a twist,

but from our end, there is no story.

It's Joyce on the box

and it's Joyce on the recording.

So, the two they've found

are sheer coincidence?

All the others are genuine?

Absolutely.

What about the Godowsky?

We didn't release the Godowsky.

I told you, Joyce wasn't

up to scratch on it.

The Godowsky was clever because

it was nicked from three pianists

and it was speeded up.

So, you could've played it

to Marc-Andre Hamelin

and he wouldn't have had a clue

he was listening to himself.

I mean, it was brilliant, really.

Right, that's going online.

And once the red tops

get hold of it...

Heaven help Barrie.

'So far the husband of Joyce Hatto

'is not, as far as I know, coming

forward with his side of the story.

'But if it does turn out that some

or all of Joyce Hatto's recordings

'are from other sources, that really

will be very sad indeed.'

Mr Coupe.

Mr Coupe.

Look, this is vile.

My father-in-law had cancer. It

makes people absolutely desperate.

That's what we'll pay for

an exclusive. Just call me.

Then you can get rid of this lot.

It's desperately sad, and we want

people to see your side.

Nobody will think the worse of you.

Mr Coupe?

You dumb cluck,

we're cooking for one, aren't we?

Well, we could have predicted it

ending like this, couldn't we?

Typical Barriean muddle.

I'm trying to think if

anything you ever did came right.

No answer came, none.

I hope you're not going to say

I had anything to do with this.

No, we can't have Joyce's name

dragged through the mud, can we?

No, that's right.

Because what you have to remember

is that all the things that

happened to me were your fault.

Because nothing is ever

Joyce's fault, is it?

No.

Joyce mucks up her audition for

the BBC. Is that Joyce's fault?

No, that was Barrie's fault.

He made her nervous.

He was too jolly

or he was too encouraging

or he wasn't encouraging enough.

Joyce has a miscarriage -

not usually anyone's fault

but in this case,

it was Barrie's fault.

Oh, and then, of course,

Barrie went to prison!

Did he m*rder someone?

Did he hit an old lady

on the head with a brick?

No, he just messed up

on his purchase tax returns,

trying to earn a living so that

Joyce could stay in the house

and Joyce could carry on

playing the piano,

which, by the way, wasn't anything

anyone wanted to pay money to hear.

You said you'd make me famous!

I was stupid, then, wasn't I?

Cos I tell you what,

when I first walked into

the Strathmore and heard you play,

I was quite a happy chap.

I was nothing special,

mucking about at the publishers',

joking with the girls in the office,

but I tell you what, I was doing OK.

You loved me. Yes, I did.

But living with

a disappointed person is hard.

It drains the flippin'

life out of you.

Maybe it was a daft scheme

putting out those recordings

but I thought it might cheer you up.

Simple as that.

So, what are you going to tell

your sympathetic lady journalist?

I could just tell her the truth.

Golly. That would be a novelty.

That you hadn't recorded in years.

That you were too ill to play.

That every interview

you gave was a lie.

That would make my obituaries

pretty meaningless, wouldn't it?

You went down

with the Titanic, Joyce.

I'm the poor sod

clinging to a deck chair.

It's every man for himself.

We're Birdy and Pilks.

We were at the funeral.

We've seen the news

about the recordings

and we've been so upset,

haven't we, Pilks?

Because we loved her and we just

can't see how it can have happened.

You've come to get the full story,

is that it? Well, not...

I'll be giving my story to the Daily

Mail, you can read it in there.

That do you? Oh, dear.

We haven't just come poking around.

Pilks said we shouldn't just turn up

but no-one was answering the phone

and your website's shut down.

Well, I can tell you what I'm going

to tell the Daily Mail, if you like.

But you're not going to like it.

Give Barrie the...

God, I'll forget my head next.

I was having a clear-out

and this was in a cupboard.

Do you remember?

I should say.

They're what landed me

in the Old Bailey.

Look, girls, I...

Girls!

Well, you're girls to me.

Shall we sit down?

You're going to read it

in the paper anyway

so you might as well hear it now.

Your Miss Hatto and my Joyce were

perhaps not quite the same person.

Oh, my God! It still works.

Oh, yes. That's why we brought it.

We interviewed Miss Hatto

for the school mag.

We thought you might like to

hear it. The tape was still in it.

'Miss Hatto...

'Oh, sorry, Birdy,

what am I asking first?'

'What's the best thing

about being a concert pianist?'

'Yes, sorry. Miss Hatto,

can you tell us, please,

'what is the best thing

about being a concert pianist?

'Well, I think it's that

every time you sit down to play,

'you don't actually know

what's going to happen

'because every concert is different,

every audience is different.

'And you don't always want them to

say, "Wasn't Joyce Hatto wonderful?"

'Or you don't even necessarily

want them to say,

'"Wasn't Chopin wonderful?"

or Bach or Beethoven.

'I want them to go away feeling

'something wonderful and special

has happened just to them.

'And what's the worst thing?

'Birdy! What?

'Well, it... it can be quite lonely.

'I'm very lucky,

I have the most encouraging husband.

'I can get a little bit

discouraged sometimes

'when a piece doesn't quite go

as I think it should

'and I say, "Oh, Barrie I can't do

this," and "Barrie, I can't do that"

'and he says,

"Go on, you can do it."

'And he's right, I can.'

Sorry.

I just thought you might

like to hear her voice.

We should scarper, Birdy.

No, no, stay. No, no.

We can read it in the papers.

You don't owe us an explanation.

It's just that

because she always said playing

music was about being honest,

we couldn't really believe

that she would have had anything

to do with something fraudulent.

She didn't.

She didn't?

Oh, Pilks. She really didn't?

She didn't know anything about it.

As far as she was concerned, the

recordings were as she played them.

So they were her recordings?

Absolutely they were.

The trouble was, poor thing...

When she played,

she would make these little noises,

little cries of pain.

She didn't even know

she was doing them.

So I had to find a way

to patch them up

and yes, it's a fair cop in a sense,

I... I made little edits,

but I never took a whole movement,

not even a whole bar.

'It can get a bit lonely,

'but I'm very lucky,

I have the most encouraging husband.

'I can get a little bit

discouraged sometimes

'when a piece doesn't go

quite as I think it should

'and I say, "Oh, Barrie,

I can't do this,"

'and "Barrie, I can't do that,"

'and he says,

"Go on, you can do it.

'And he's right, I can.

'He always says that I'm the

engine driver and he's the oily rag

'and sometimes you need an oily rag

to get the engine going.'

I don't care if the only thing

you ever manage to play

is The Teddy Bear's Picnic.

You know, if you play it with

passion, commitment and truth,

then you'll have my vote.

And you'll make me

a very happy Hatto.