This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.
You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2013/feb/13/michael-brewer-rncm-teachers-story-martin-roscoe
The article has changed 6 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.
| Version 2 | Version 3 |
|---|---|
| After Michael Brewer: the RNCM teacher's story | After Michael Brewer: the RNCM teacher's story |
| (10 days later) | |
| The trial of Michael Brewer and his former wife, and the suicide of his victim, violinist Fran Andrade, have set into motion waves of revelations about abuse visited on girls at Chetham's, the elite Manchester music school, in the 1970s, 80s and 90s. It has been a dark and soul-searching time for the music world; there has been huge anger both about the abuse itself and the culture in which it took root. Out of this murk, one man has emerged full of gritty integrity: pianist Martin Roscoe. A decade ago, he tried to stop the appointment to his own institution, the Royal Northern College of Music, of violin teacher Malcolm Layfield – a man who had had sex with 16-year-old girls previously in his care at Chetham's and elsewhere, and whose name came up in the trial of Brewer. | The trial of Michael Brewer and his former wife, and the suicide of his victim, violinist Fran Andrade, have set into motion waves of revelations about abuse visited on girls at Chetham's, the elite Manchester music school, in the 1970s, 80s and 90s. It has been a dark and soul-searching time for the music world; there has been huge anger both about the abuse itself and the culture in which it took root. Out of this murk, one man has emerged full of gritty integrity: pianist Martin Roscoe. A decade ago, he tried to stop the appointment to his own institution, the Royal Northern College of Music, of violin teacher Malcolm Layfield – a man who had had sex with 16-year-old girls previously in his care at Chetham's and elsewhere, and whose name came up in the trial of Brewer. |
| At the weekend, the Guardian website published a 45-page dossier of correspondence between Roscoe and his employers. The story the letters tell unfurls with gripping horror: Ibsen might have written it. It begins in December 2001 with him warning the principal of the RNCM, the now retired Edward Gregson, that he has heard disturbing stories about Layfield, who is being considered for the role of head of strings at the RNCM. (Chetham's and the RNCM have strong links. Both are in Manchester: Chetham's takes pupils up to 18, and the RNCM at university level. There has historically been a great deal of staff crossover.) The story ends with the resignation of Roscoe and the ratification of the appointment of Layfield; 12 years on Layfield is still there, and has been on sick leave since last week. | At the weekend, the Guardian website published a 45-page dossier of correspondence between Roscoe and his employers. The story the letters tell unfurls with gripping horror: Ibsen might have written it. It begins in December 2001 with him warning the principal of the RNCM, the now retired Edward Gregson, that he has heard disturbing stories about Layfield, who is being considered for the role of head of strings at the RNCM. (Chetham's and the RNCM have strong links. Both are in Manchester: Chetham's takes pupils up to 18, and the RNCM at university level. There has historically been a great deal of staff crossover.) The story ends with the resignation of Roscoe and the ratification of the appointment of Layfield; 12 years on Layfield is still there, and has been on sick leave since last week. |
| I meet Roscoe – a solid, down-to-earth man of 60 in walking shoes and a fleece – in his comfortably ramshackle 18th-century house in Cumbria, where he lives with his wife and two sons. We sit among a hotch-potch of instruments, CDs and his two pianos (a table-football set lurks beneath one). It has been quite a week: instead of practising Beethoven's Waldstein Sonata for a recital in London on Thursday, he has been flooded with messages of support; his phone pings with requests for interviews; his Facebook page is overwhelmed with statements of solidarity and incredulity. "I do feel a tremendous feeling of relief and vindication," he says. | I meet Roscoe – a solid, down-to-earth man of 60 in walking shoes and a fleece – in his comfortably ramshackle 18th-century house in Cumbria, where he lives with his wife and two sons. We sit among a hotch-potch of instruments, CDs and his two pianos (a table-football set lurks beneath one). It has been quite a week: instead of practising Beethoven's Waldstein Sonata for a recital in London on Thursday, he has been flooded with messages of support; his phone pings with requests for interviews; his Facebook page is overwhelmed with statements of solidarity and incredulity. "I do feel a tremendous feeling of relief and vindication," he says. |
| But what kind of culture could have let loose the abuse that flourished at Chetham's? Music lessons are one-to-one, they have to be, Roscoe says. So, if you're determined to behave wrongly, there's the opportunity: "It's one of the easiest situations to abuse, I would have thought." And then there is the music itself: you are inevitably touching on the most passionate places of the soul with adolescents who do not yet, necessarily, have the emotional equipment to deal with what is being thrown at them. "In a way you have to disturb your students, just by suggesting you can think about things in a different way, emotionally perhaps," says Roscoe. Student-teacher relationships are frequently intense. "Especially with someone aged 16 or 17, with hormones going beserk, it's very easy for the student to have a crush on the teacher, and I've experienced it myself," he says. "It's very easy for it to happen the other way around, too. But there is a clear boundary." | But what kind of culture could have let loose the abuse that flourished at Chetham's? Music lessons are one-to-one, they have to be, Roscoe says. So, if you're determined to behave wrongly, there's the opportunity: "It's one of the easiest situations to abuse, I would have thought." And then there is the music itself: you are inevitably touching on the most passionate places of the soul with adolescents who do not yet, necessarily, have the emotional equipment to deal with what is being thrown at them. "In a way you have to disturb your students, just by suggesting you can think about things in a different way, emotionally perhaps," says Roscoe. Student-teacher relationships are frequently intense. "Especially with someone aged 16 or 17, with hormones going beserk, it's very easy for the student to have a crush on the teacher, and I've experienced it myself," he says. "It's very easy for it to happen the other way around, too. But there is a clear boundary." |
| He adds: "I went to a fantastic teacher called Gordon Green, who said that the aim of the teacher is to make himself dispensable to the student. Now that seems to me to be the exact opposite of the sort of teaching culture that was going on at Chetham's at that time: these gurus, who were saying: 'Look at me, I'm the great teacher, I'm the great player.'" | He adds: "I went to a fantastic teacher called Gordon Green, who said that the aim of the teacher is to make himself dispensable to the student. Now that seems to me to be the exact opposite of the sort of teaching culture that was going on at Chetham's at that time: these gurus, who were saying: 'Look at me, I'm the great teacher, I'm the great player.'" |
| As he tells the story of his whistleblowing, Roscoe recalls the events that led up to his first approach to Gregson, his principal at the RNCM. (Gregson remains a member of Chetham's school committee, its de facto board, testament to the strong connections between the college and the school.) Back in 2001, he was rehearsing with a cellist who told him a story about Layfield, "and I was absolutely horrified". Next, he bumped into Layfield in the college, who mentioned he was applying to be head of strings. "Everyone around college was saying: 'Oh, he won't get it, for God's sake. Everyone knows what he's like.' But when it became clear he was on the shortlist, "I thought, 'I have got to say something.'" | As he tells the story of his whistleblowing, Roscoe recalls the events that led up to his first approach to Gregson, his principal at the RNCM. (Gregson remains a member of Chetham's school committee, its de facto board, testament to the strong connections between the college and the school.) Back in 2001, he was rehearsing with a cellist who told him a story about Layfield, "and I was absolutely horrified". Next, he bumped into Layfield in the college, who mentioned he was applying to be head of strings. "Everyone around college was saying: 'Oh, he won't get it, for God's sake. Everyone knows what he's like.' But when it became clear he was on the shortlist, "I thought, 'I have got to say something.'" |
| In November, Roscoe voiced his concerns to a colleague, "but about three days later the notice went up on the board that Layfield had been appointed. And I was very, very angry. I went straightaway to see Eddie Gregson." Roscoe also wrote to Gregson supplying names, contacts, details: on a school trip to Hong Kong, Layfield had had sex with one of the girls in his care, who was 16 or 17 at the time. Supervising another party of schoolgirls on a trip to Suffolk, he got the 16-year-olds drunk, and had sex with one in the back of his car. Gregson later relayed that Layfield admitted his behaviour, but it had stopped eight years previously, and he was satisfied it would not occur again. | In November, Roscoe voiced his concerns to a colleague, "but about three days later the notice went up on the board that Layfield had been appointed. And I was very, very angry. I went straightaway to see Eddie Gregson." Roscoe also wrote to Gregson supplying names, contacts, details: on a school trip to Hong Kong, Layfield had had sex with one of the girls in his care, who was 16 or 17 at the time. Supervising another party of schoolgirls on a trip to Suffolk, he got the 16-year-olds drunk, and had sex with one in the back of his car. Gregson later relayed that Layfield admitted his behaviour, but it had stopped eight years previously, and he was satisfied it would not occur again. |
| Why does Roscoe think Gregson stuck to his guns? "I think the bottom line is he didn't like to be challenged. He didn't like someone like me troubling his judgment. As the process went on, you could see him becoming more and more entrenched." Letters from pupils and professional musicians poured in, echoing Roscoe's warnings: one was from Andrade, who mentioned Layfield's name in her evidence in the Brewer trial; she told the jury that she had reported him to the police in 2002. "She was a force to be reckoned with," Roscoe says. They never met, but when Andrade heard that Layfield had been appointed she contacted Roscoe and they talked repeatedly by phone: "There was tremendous passion and anger." | Why does Roscoe think Gregson stuck to his guns? "I think the bottom line is he didn't like to be challenged. He didn't like someone like me troubling his judgment. As the process went on, you could see him becoming more and more entrenched." Letters from pupils and professional musicians poured in, echoing Roscoe's warnings: one was from Andrade, who mentioned Layfield's name in her evidence in the Brewer trial; she told the jury that she had reported him to the police in 2002. "She was a force to be reckoned with," Roscoe says. They never met, but when Andrade heard that Layfield had been appointed she contacted Roscoe and they talked repeatedly by phone: "There was tremendous passion and anger." |
| In February 2002 Roscoe approached the chair of the board of governors, Lord Armstrong. He recalls a meeting with him and a fellow governor. "Lord Armstrong was very proper and professional. But every time I started talking, [the other governor] tutted and sighed, as if I was just some troublesome worm, which really made me very angry, though I didn't show that." So long and difficult was the subsequent board meeting that guests were kept waiting for the opening of a new building that was due to take place afterwards. The board confirmed Gregson's decision. | In February 2002 Roscoe approached the chair of the board of governors, Lord Armstrong. He recalls a meeting with him and a fellow governor. "Lord Armstrong was very proper and professional. But every time I started talking, [the other governor] tutted and sighed, as if I was just some troublesome worm, which really made me very angry, though I didn't show that." So long and difficult was the subsequent board meeting that guests were kept waiting for the opening of a new building that was due to take place afterwards. The board confirmed Gregson's decision. |
| It was at this point, says Roscoe, that "I knew I was going to leave", though he hung on until the end of the academic year in June. Meantime, he was asked to meet Layfield to "clear the air". "I have never been so nervous," says Roscoe. "Playing Rachmaninov Two at the Proms was easy by comparison. He was cool as a cucumber. I said that I didn't want to enter a discussion, I would make a statement, and I said: 'I've spoken to several of the people whose lives you have seriously affected. Your behaviour as far as I am concerned is absolutely outrageous and I don't think you deserve the job you've been given. I am prepared to work with you professionally and I promise the college that I will not behave unprofessionally.'" | It was at this point, says Roscoe, that "I knew I was going to leave", though he hung on until the end of the academic year in June. Meantime, he was asked to meet Layfield to "clear the air". "I have never been so nervous," says Roscoe. "Playing Rachmaninov Two at the Proms was easy by comparison. He was cool as a cucumber. I said that I didn't want to enter a discussion, I would make a statement, and I said: 'I've spoken to several of the people whose lives you have seriously affected. Your behaviour as far as I am concerned is absolutely outrageous and I don't think you deserve the job you've been given. I am prepared to work with you professionally and I promise the college that I will not behave unprofessionally.'" |
| Thankfully, there were plenty of offers of concert engagements, which meant Roscoe could afford to leave. "Apparently, the air was blue around the top corridors of the RNCM the day I handed in my resignation. One of my great friends was the piano tuner. He knew everyone in college. He was the first person to call, at about midday. He said 'I've never seen so many men in suits walking up and down the corridors – I can tell you Martin, you won't be invited back.'" | Thankfully, there were plenty of offers of concert engagements, which meant Roscoe could afford to leave. "Apparently, the air was blue around the top corridors of the RNCM the day I handed in my resignation. One of my great friends was the piano tuner. He knew everyone in college. He was the first person to call, at about midday. He said 'I've never seen so many men in suits walking up and down the corridors – I can tell you Martin, you won't be invited back.'" |
| Gregson wrote to Roscoe: "It is clear that you are now intent on making as much trouble as you can … naturally the college will be taking legal advice," The college issued a press release saying that Roscoe had found it hard to "reconcile his professional playing career with the demands of running the school of keyboard studies". | Gregson wrote to Roscoe: "It is clear that you are now intent on making as much trouble as you can … naturally the college will be taking legal advice," The college issued a press release saying that Roscoe had found it hard to "reconcile his professional playing career with the demands of running the school of keyboard studies". |
| Did he feel relief to be gone? Anger that Layfield was still there? "I've had 11 years thinking that, but I had never had a personal vendetta against Malcolm. His behaviour was disgusting, but with Gregson – I did feel very bitter about the way I'd been treated." The stresses and strains began to show. There was extreme anxiety, panic attacks. "I didn't know what was the matter with me, I felt so awful all the time." | Did he feel relief to be gone? Anger that Layfield was still there? "I've had 11 years thinking that, but I had never had a personal vendetta against Malcolm. His behaviour was disgusting, but with Gregson – I did feel very bitter about the way I'd been treated." The stresses and strains began to show. There was extreme anxiety, panic attacks. "I didn't know what was the matter with me, I felt so awful all the time." |
| He remembers staying the night with a friend before sitting on an awards panel: "I woke up in the middle of the night and I thought I was going to die, my stomach and heart were pumping away." The normal pleasures of his life, even the hillwalking that he loves, were stripped away. "I couldn't do that either, especially on my own. Even with other people I wanted to run away, to run down the hill, get in the car – a kind of agoraphobia." | He remembers staying the night with a friend before sitting on an awards panel: "I woke up in the middle of the night and I thought I was going to die, my stomach and heart were pumping away." The normal pleasures of his life, even the hillwalking that he loves, were stripped away. "I couldn't do that either, especially on my own. Even with other people I wanted to run away, to run down the hill, get in the car – a kind of agoraphobia." |
| The attacks lasted nearly three years, sometimes hitting on concert days. "It affected my general confidence and my playing confidence: I'm not sure I've ever recovered it, to be honest. It's an anxious enough business, playing the piano." Roscoe has a flourishing career, performing regularly at Wigmore Hall in London. He has recently recorded the Beethoven and Dohnanyi piano sonatas, and he teaches at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama in London. But he clearly misses the RNCM: a Merseyside boy, who remembers seeing Simon Rattle as a "little lad scampering around the back of the percussion section" of the local youth orchestra, he studied there himself. | The attacks lasted nearly three years, sometimes hitting on concert days. "It affected my general confidence and my playing confidence: I'm not sure I've ever recovered it, to be honest. It's an anxious enough business, playing the piano." Roscoe has a flourishing career, performing regularly at Wigmore Hall in London. He has recently recorded the Beethoven and Dohnanyi piano sonatas, and he teaches at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama in London. But he clearly misses the RNCM: a Merseyside boy, who remembers seeing Simon Rattle as a "little lad scampering around the back of the percussion section" of the local youth orchestra, he studied there himself. |
| Now that Gregson and other staff have moved on or retired, Roscoe has accepted an invitation to return: on 26 February he will give a masterclass, and he is playing in a concert in June (but he has declined a fee if Layfield is still on the payroll). There is a new principal at the college, and he believes it is now "a different place". But, he says, "They have to face what happened." | Now that Gregson and other staff have moved on or retired, Roscoe has accepted an invitation to return: on 26 February he will give a masterclass, and he is playing in a concert in June (but he has declined a fee if Layfield is still on the payroll). There is a new principal at the college, and he believes it is now "a different place". But, he says, "They have to face what happened." |
| Our editors' picks for the day's top news and commentary delivered to your inbox each morning. | Our editors' picks for the day's top news and commentary delivered to your inbox each morning. |
| Our editors' picks for the day's top news and commentary delivered to your inbox each morning. Enter your email address to subscribe. | Our editors' picks for the day's top news and commentary delivered to your inbox each morning. Enter your email address to subscribe. |
| Our editors' picks for the day's top news and commentary delivered to your inbox each morning. |