Sometimes, when I'm playing the piano at home, it occurs to me that the vast majority of my playing has not been done for listeners. Obviously some of my practising has been heard by family members, whether or not they wanted to listen. Our late lamented tortoiseshell cat is the only creature who has actually sat in on my practice sessions for longish periods of time, and even she had a discouraging way of getting up with a sigh, going to sit by the door and scratching forlornly at the paintwork until I let her out. But although I have played lots of concerts, the amount of time I have spent playing to audiences is only a fraction of the time I have spent playing to nobody. At a rough calculation, 90% – maybe more – of my piano playing has only been heard by me. When I think about this situation in the abstract, it feels as if we musicians are constantly shooting arrows into the dark, without an audience to provide the target.

I imagine that the ‘classical music’ of many cultures requires a comparable degree of private preparation. The majority of our playing is unobserved and unattended. Much of our time is spent in getting things into a reliable state for the benefit of future listeners (as well as for the benefit of our own professional reputations).