18 CONTEXT 175 : MARCH 2023 of the interaction of all these layers with this cultural substrate that they bring. Of course, we can not count on detailed knowledge in advance. A clear idea about Britten and his music is not a given; in contrast with, for instance, the parsonage at Haworth, where most visitors will have a clear idea of Wuthering Heights, even if this comes from film, or Kate Bush, rather than the book itself. Communicating the flavour of a composer in a short time is not easy: music takes time to play, and one can not ask the visitor to listen to entire operas as preparation for their visit. Some context can be provided via the audio guides in the gallery space, but one can not demand that visitors listen even to these short excerpts. For music, the different spaces around the site offer different opportunities and challenges. As mentioned, the Composition Studio combines a heritage space with music in a way that reflects its original use. In contrast, the house typically did not have music in it in their time so is presented as silent. However, visitors do indicate that they expect to hear music in it and have given good feedback when performers have worked there, so there is some tension between authenticity and communication. The library was always used for rehearsal, and we are working on how to introduce music here without being intrusive. The two men’s personal relationship and the story of love in the face of societal disapproval, by contrast, are things to which everyone can relate: these are central to how we present the site. Interestingly, when the house was first opened to the public there was some caution among trustees and volunteers about discussing the two men’s private lives, on the grounds that they themselves had kept them private. However, Britten himself had urged his literary executor to ‘tell the truth about me and Peter’ when he was dead, so the prominence of their relationship is sanctioned. There is also clear feedback from supporters and visitors that this is what they want. The domestic objects, to those who remember the two men’s era, also communicate a direct and visceral shock of recognition. A recent visitor tweeted: ‘It’s wonderful. We thought it was like your grandparents’ house had your grandparents been two of the 20th century’s most important musicians, and both men.’ Our task, then, is to spark a reaction, an intangible relationship, between visitor and location. We do this by talking about another relationship, that of Britten and Pears, and the two men’s relationship with the house, the possessions left there, and the social circle that visited it. The house and its contents are the jump-off point for the creation of this intangible atmosphere, and it is that which we have somehow to create and preserve. Just as the things we try to preserve are fleeting and intangible, so in a sense is how we work: practice will keep on evolving and one thing of which we can be sure thing is that the visitor experience in the future will not be quite the same, but will evolve as Britten and Pears’ time recedes and, for example, the objects in the house are no longer the stuff of personal experience. The house, and how we present it, will adapt as we try to generate the same atmosphere in different times: a Red Queen’s Race in which one runs in order to stay in the same place. Britten and Pears, of course, did not want it to be what they called a museum, a dry and fixed environment, so we feel confident that this changing and dynamic approach would meet with their approval. Christopher Hilton is head of archive and library at Britten Pears Arts. Previously he worked at London Metropolitan Archives and the Wellcome Library. The Drawing Room in the Red House
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MjgyMjA=