
Monday can wait. New Year needs to be gently ushered in by stylish people in stylish surroundings.

After a day immersed in figures and forecasts, stepping into Wigmore Hall feels like surfacing for air. Here, the discipline that keeps research going is mirrored in the discipline of a pianist at a single keyboard. Both require attention, endurance, and trust in something more than numbers.

A trip to Venice to review a festival. Yet, somewhere between the wrong boat, the gondoliers and a memory from 1980, the assignment changed.

From Eurostar carriage scenes to Parisine on the Metro, the trip sharpens listening long before the first chord sounds.

Thirty years ago I thought the Barbican a miracle squeezed between the bustle of the City. Today it feels monumental, defiantly itself. Outside in the fierce autumn light, Tamsin Waley-Cohen speaks with candour about art, motherhood, and music.