It’s not just as manager of Forsyth’s Sheet Music Department that I have the pleasure of welcoming this new book into stock, but also as someone who has had the pleasure of Sir John’s acquaintance.

When I was a student at the RNCM, Mr Manduell (as initially he was) was still Principal of the College and definitely no back seat driver. He seemed to be involved in so many parts of the day-to-day running of the place. I was fortunate enough to enjoy a successful career there and that brought me into contact with him on a regular basis. The book has, of course, a chapter on his time there, and I make no excuse for having read that before embarking upon the memoir as a whole. He speaks glowingly and with quiet pride of the opera seasons during his tenure as, I believe, he always saw these as the College’s showpieces involving as they did both the vocal and orchestral students in polished, shop-window performances.

A personal memory that I’d like to share is of one such evening. Sir John was escorting the Duchess of Kent along the ranks of singers on stage. The night before, I had occasioned him embarrassment in front of guests, so he now interrupted the Royal passage as they came to me and, in front of all my peers, said,

“This fellow here reckons that I should put on Don Giovanni next year, as I will apparently never have a better Leporello.”

Upon seeing him exit later that evening, I ran after him and started spouting apologies.

“No need, dear boy,” he interrupted, “You embarrassed me, I’ve now done the same to you. All forgotten.”

This, I think, epitomised Sir John’s style, a great man manager, chiding gently and with a twinkle in his eye when need be and thereby achieving far more than by delivering a rocket. Reading the book, I was struck by his words about his father and realised that he must be a chip off the old block. That, of course doesn’t mean that he wasn’t used to his own way. Tim Reynish (who addressed the book launch by satellite link) once told me the tale of a meeting with him wherein Sir John informed him that the College would be presenting Gian Carlo Menotti’s opera “The Consul.” He said that, Tim, as Head of Conducting was being asked to take the baton but that Sir John actually wanted Sian (Edwards – then Junior Fellow) to do it. Tim replied,

“Put like that, John, I feel I have to politely decline your kind offer.”

The book barely acknowledges the very real threat to the RNCM’s future afforded by the PCFC reshuffle and the resultant complete financial overhaul of the institution. Perhaps he merely thinks of it as one more hurdle successfully taken in his stride. Furthermore, though I grant that it may lie outside the remit of “A Musician’s Memoir”, he also makes no mention of his Herculean efforts with the Manchester Olympic Committee that came within a hair’s breadth of wresting The Games from the capital cities of the world and led to the successful Commonwealth Games bid and the resulting regeneration of vast swathes of this city.

1991, I played the Devil in a staged version of Stravinsky’s “Soldier’s Tale” at the Cheltenham Music Festival of which Sir John (as he’d then become) was Director. He attended and as ever took the time to seek me out, congratulate me and offer only constructive criticism. Again, the chapter on his tenure in Cheltenham is brief, but then again the man has crammed so much life into a span of just under ninety short years.

When addressing the man in company, I always afforded him his proper title, but one-on-one, he tolerated a more personal form of address. Due to his failing strength (of body, though definitely not of mind), it is some years since I’ve enjoyed Sir John’s company, but in 2008, I sent him a card that read, “Happy 80^th, Boss!”

Mike Pearson, Forsyth Brothers Sheet Music Department Manager

Sir John's book is available in hardback or paperback via our website and in store.

The book was launched on 2 November 2016 at the RNCM