In view of Ann Driver’s deep concern and commitment to the musical education of the young, it was decided that the Trust should be used to advance the education of youth in the arts, with special emphasis on music. Grants are not made to individuals but to musical organisations and to nominated specialist schools and colleges, to be awarded to students selected by these organisations. Ex gratia payments are occasionally made in cases of exceptional hardship. The Trust does not make loans for the purchase of musical instruments, nor does it cover living expenses or maintenance; it supports only students studying in the UK.
The Ann Driver Trust is a registered charity number 801898 and is governed by the Trust Deed dated 12th June 1989.
The Ann Driver Trust is a registered charity number 801898 and is governed by the Trust Deed dated 12th June 1989.
ANN DRIVER BY PENNY NEARY, SECRETARY OF THE ANN DRIVER TRUST
Ann Driver was a household name in the 1940s and 50s because of her regular broadcasts for children on the BBC Schools Radio service. Music and Movement, as the programmes were called, had grown out of Ann’s training at the London School of Dance and Eurythmics, where she was a star pupil of its legendary founder, Emile Jacques-Dalcroze. Born in Vienna of Swiss parentage, Dalcroze had studied music with, among others, Anton Bruckner, Léo Delibes and Gabriel Fauré. He created a system of eurythmics with wide-ranging applications and benefits for all age groups, aiming to provide the student with a solid rhythmic foundation through movement in order to enhance musical expression and understanding.
In the 1930s Ann Driver was working with very overcrowded classes of schoolchildren in Deptford, and was surprised to be approached by the BBC to teach ‘Music and Movement’ on the radio. The programmes were broadcast one or twice weekly in term time, and were much used in primary education of that day. I must be one of many children of the 50s who can remember the fun of morning periods spent in the school gym, with music on the wireless and an unknown, unseen lady encouraging us to move around or dance or just lie on the floor!
Music and Movement classes were also held from 1949 in the drawing room of York House, St James’s Palace, with a collection of 5 – 11 year olds. Included in the group were the two sons of the then Duke of Gloucester, whose governess was Ann Driver’s collaborator, Rosalind Ramirez, and together they wrote a book about these early days, Something Particular (published by Hodder and Stoughton in 1955), with beautiful illustrations by John and Isabel Morton-Sale.
Ann Driver was a born teacher as well as an outstanding musician, lecturer and improviser. She was a person of great warmth and imagination, concerned with the needs of her pupils, thinking always of how they could best express and develop themselves. Here is a passage she wrote for the book Something Particular, to open the chapter entitled Music:
“Music is a magical power. Lovely sound is woven from the loom of melody, harmony and rhythm. In it we feel time, space and energy. On its wings we travel through worlds undreamed of that we dimly trace. Through its message of wordless purity we hear a divine language – a language of beautiful tones. My desire was to lead children into this Paradise.”
Ann Driver was a household name in the 1940s and 50s because of her regular broadcasts for children on the BBC Schools Radio service. Music and Movement, as the programmes were called, had grown out of Ann’s training at the London School of Dance and Eurythmics, where she was a star pupil of its legendary founder, Emile Jacques-Dalcroze. Born in Vienna of Swiss parentage, Dalcroze had studied music with, among others, Anton Bruckner, Léo Delibes and Gabriel Fauré. He created a system of eurythmics with wide-ranging applications and benefits for all age groups, aiming to provide the student with a solid rhythmic foundation through movement in order to enhance musical expression and understanding.
In the 1930s Ann Driver was working with very overcrowded classes of schoolchildren in Deptford, and was surprised to be approached by the BBC to teach ‘Music and Movement’ on the radio. The programmes were broadcast one or twice weekly in term time, and were much used in primary education of that day. I must be one of many children of the 50s who can remember the fun of morning periods spent in the school gym, with music on the wireless and an unknown, unseen lady encouraging us to move around or dance or just lie on the floor!
Music and Movement classes were also held from 1949 in the drawing room of York House, St James’s Palace, with a collection of 5 – 11 year olds. Included in the group were the two sons of the then Duke of Gloucester, whose governess was Ann Driver’s collaborator, Rosalind Ramirez, and together they wrote a book about these early days, Something Particular (published by Hodder and Stoughton in 1955), with beautiful illustrations by John and Isabel Morton-Sale.
Ann Driver was a born teacher as well as an outstanding musician, lecturer and improviser. She was a person of great warmth and imagination, concerned with the needs of her pupils, thinking always of how they could best express and develop themselves. Here is a passage she wrote for the book Something Particular, to open the chapter entitled Music:
“Music is a magical power. Lovely sound is woven from the loom of melody, harmony and rhythm. In it we feel time, space and energy. On its wings we travel through worlds undreamed of that we dimly trace. Through its message of wordless purity we hear a divine language – a language of beautiful tones. My desire was to lead children into this Paradise.”
AN ARTICLE WRITTEN IN 2000 FOR THE DALCROZE SOCIETY MAGAZINE
BY ROBERT PRITCHETT, CHAIRMAN OF THE ANN DRIVER TRUST
Four years after Ann Driver’s death, The Ann Driver Trust was instituted and I was fortunate to be elected the first (and so far only) Chairman. In consideration of Ann’s deep concern and commitment to the musical education of the young, the Trust was established to advance the education of youth in the arts, with special emphasis on music.
My memories of Ann Driver MBE, musician and broadcaster, are strong and vivid, and I cherish the time spent with her over the years. We had a weekly tea date, which was never broken, except on the day she died. It was such a wonderful experience to talk in the ‘red room’, as she called it, where she would regale her experiences, her thoughts, her philosophies and her hopes for the future with such conviction that one would hang on every word. She had regrets, oh yes, but she always believed that Dalcroze planted a seed and out of that seed, something would grow. It did not necessarily grow in the direction Ann wanted, but she understood the need for change and accepted it, albeit reluctantly.
In fact, it was change that saw an estrangement between her and Jacques Dalcroze. He could never forgive her for calling her BBC series ‘Music & Movement’; it was his method and it should be named after him. Ann believed that she should take what she needed from her time working with M.Jaques (Dalcroze), use it in her way and discard what she felt was not relevant. Ann was a pioneer and she was also a rebel with a cause; she delighted in stirring things up, even well into her eighties, and would sit back and chuckle to herself, thinking of that original seed. Once, following a visit to some Dalcroze work, she wrote to me: “… I am afraid I displeased some people today, Robert, but having talked to you in the car on the way home, I am even more pleased that I voiced my opinion. I will no doubt hear more….”. She never did and was, I know, disappointed that her remarks were considered unworthy of comment.
Ann Driver qualified at the London School in 1918 and gained her Geneva Diploma two years later. She taught regularly at the school until the death of Percy Ingham in 1930. When he died, she left the school, starting out on her own, and the BBC soon approached her for what were to become her famous ‘Music and Movement’ broadcasts. These led to the publication of her book, Music and Movement, and later to her work with a special group of children, including the present Duke of Gloucester (she also taught his children), and she co-published Something Particular, with Rosalind Ramirez.
Her BBC broadcasts were heard regularly by school-children all over the country and by others with their parents at home. She could always laugh at herself, and she told me of her first trial experience at broadcasting. Sir Geoffrey Shaw, the BBC Schools Programmes Music Adviser at the time, and Mary Somerville took her to Hendon, where she was placed in a stationery cupboard, as a makeshift studio, complete with upright piano. She was working ‘blind’ while others were studying the reactions of the children; first a class of five to six year olds, then a class of ‘lethargic’ nine year old boys. The powers-that-be found she did ‘project’ well, though she often liked telling the children to close their eyes, and then quite forgot to counter the instruction, resulting in some hilarious moments.
Ann was an extremely gifted improviser and took a great interest in new styles of music. I had many lessons with her, all free, for it was not Ann’s nature to think of charging for lessons. With two fine grand pianos in her drawing room in Devonshire Terrace, one could play for hours, with her challenging everything you did, encouraging everything you did and always looking for a fresh approach to keyboard, and indeed to improvisation.
Devonshire Terrace had barely changed since Ann’s husband, the poet Trevor Blakemore, died. It was as if one was in a time-warp, almost unaware of the modern world outside, although she was always willing to hear of new ideas and to keep abreast with latest developments in music. Every other week she would accompany me to the school where I taught to watch the music and movement lessons in action. However, it was all too much for her; before I knew it, she was in charge of the lesson! She simply adored teaching and the children loved her. She was also a creative composer, having worked with Sebastian Brown, who died in his late nineties. Ann’s works survive and there is a great desire to see these published and performed in the near future. As a student she had been much influenced by Douglas van Schnell, as she was by M.Jacques, and she always acknowledged both as having strongly influenced her compositions.
I am not the only one with such vivid memories. Many involved in the Dalcroze Society to this day knew her well. I am fortunate still to possess countless letters from her, and to have much of her memorabilia from her days as a student and as one of Dalcroze’s favourite demonstrators of the method. She was a prolific writer, and as a young musician I valued, almost worshipped, her advice and her letters.
It was Ann’s desire to see her dreams continue well after her death. She wanted her husband to be recognised as a leading poet of his day, and his works have since been republished. She had no idea of the value of her estate, which included an imposing house in West London, but through its sale, the setting up of the Trust and wise investment, we have been able to offer valuable scholarships to hundreds of students over the years. The Trust has also sponsored concerts, recordings of her works and a concert tour by her former pupil, the pianist Robin Zebaida. The future for the next millennium is of paramount consideration. I have dreams and visions for the Trust, just as Ann had dreams and visions for the work of Dalcroze. Where we are going is very much in the planning stages at the time of writing, but while I remain Chairman I will always want to see an association between The Ann Driver Trust and The Dalcroze Society,
BY ROBERT PRITCHETT, CHAIRMAN OF THE ANN DRIVER TRUST
Four years after Ann Driver’s death, The Ann Driver Trust was instituted and I was fortunate to be elected the first (and so far only) Chairman. In consideration of Ann’s deep concern and commitment to the musical education of the young, the Trust was established to advance the education of youth in the arts, with special emphasis on music.
My memories of Ann Driver MBE, musician and broadcaster, are strong and vivid, and I cherish the time spent with her over the years. We had a weekly tea date, which was never broken, except on the day she died. It was such a wonderful experience to talk in the ‘red room’, as she called it, where she would regale her experiences, her thoughts, her philosophies and her hopes for the future with such conviction that one would hang on every word. She had regrets, oh yes, but she always believed that Dalcroze planted a seed and out of that seed, something would grow. It did not necessarily grow in the direction Ann wanted, but she understood the need for change and accepted it, albeit reluctantly.
In fact, it was change that saw an estrangement between her and Jacques Dalcroze. He could never forgive her for calling her BBC series ‘Music & Movement’; it was his method and it should be named after him. Ann believed that she should take what she needed from her time working with M.Jaques (Dalcroze), use it in her way and discard what she felt was not relevant. Ann was a pioneer and she was also a rebel with a cause; she delighted in stirring things up, even well into her eighties, and would sit back and chuckle to herself, thinking of that original seed. Once, following a visit to some Dalcroze work, she wrote to me: “… I am afraid I displeased some people today, Robert, but having talked to you in the car on the way home, I am even more pleased that I voiced my opinion. I will no doubt hear more….”. She never did and was, I know, disappointed that her remarks were considered unworthy of comment.
Ann Driver qualified at the London School in 1918 and gained her Geneva Diploma two years later. She taught regularly at the school until the death of Percy Ingham in 1930. When he died, she left the school, starting out on her own, and the BBC soon approached her for what were to become her famous ‘Music and Movement’ broadcasts. These led to the publication of her book, Music and Movement, and later to her work with a special group of children, including the present Duke of Gloucester (she also taught his children), and she co-published Something Particular, with Rosalind Ramirez.
Her BBC broadcasts were heard regularly by school-children all over the country and by others with their parents at home. She could always laugh at herself, and she told me of her first trial experience at broadcasting. Sir Geoffrey Shaw, the BBC Schools Programmes Music Adviser at the time, and Mary Somerville took her to Hendon, where she was placed in a stationery cupboard, as a makeshift studio, complete with upright piano. She was working ‘blind’ while others were studying the reactions of the children; first a class of five to six year olds, then a class of ‘lethargic’ nine year old boys. The powers-that-be found she did ‘project’ well, though she often liked telling the children to close their eyes, and then quite forgot to counter the instruction, resulting in some hilarious moments.
Ann was an extremely gifted improviser and took a great interest in new styles of music. I had many lessons with her, all free, for it was not Ann’s nature to think of charging for lessons. With two fine grand pianos in her drawing room in Devonshire Terrace, one could play for hours, with her challenging everything you did, encouraging everything you did and always looking for a fresh approach to keyboard, and indeed to improvisation.
Devonshire Terrace had barely changed since Ann’s husband, the poet Trevor Blakemore, died. It was as if one was in a time-warp, almost unaware of the modern world outside, although she was always willing to hear of new ideas and to keep abreast with latest developments in music. Every other week she would accompany me to the school where I taught to watch the music and movement lessons in action. However, it was all too much for her; before I knew it, she was in charge of the lesson! She simply adored teaching and the children loved her. She was also a creative composer, having worked with Sebastian Brown, who died in his late nineties. Ann’s works survive and there is a great desire to see these published and performed in the near future. As a student she had been much influenced by Douglas van Schnell, as she was by M.Jacques, and she always acknowledged both as having strongly influenced her compositions.
I am not the only one with such vivid memories. Many involved in the Dalcroze Society to this day knew her well. I am fortunate still to possess countless letters from her, and to have much of her memorabilia from her days as a student and as one of Dalcroze’s favourite demonstrators of the method. She was a prolific writer, and as a young musician I valued, almost worshipped, her advice and her letters.
It was Ann’s desire to see her dreams continue well after her death. She wanted her husband to be recognised as a leading poet of his day, and his works have since been republished. She had no idea of the value of her estate, which included an imposing house in West London, but through its sale, the setting up of the Trust and wise investment, we have been able to offer valuable scholarships to hundreds of students over the years. The Trust has also sponsored concerts, recordings of her works and a concert tour by her former pupil, the pianist Robin Zebaida. The future for the next millennium is of paramount consideration. I have dreams and visions for the Trust, just as Ann had dreams and visions for the work of Dalcroze. Where we are going is very much in the planning stages at the time of writing, but while I remain Chairman I will always want to see an association between The Ann Driver Trust and The Dalcroze Society,
