Reading Andrew Green’s excellent appreciation of the pianist Gerald Moore in the April 2026 issue, two things struck me. The first is that Moore, who forged memorable partnerships with some of the greatest singers and instrumentalists of the mid-20th century, was the exception that proves the rule – the rule being that piano ‘accompanists’ (the very word implies subservience) rarely get the credit, or the limelight, they deserve.
So many piano accompanists are creative powerhouses, yet accept second billing
Indeed, it could be argued that since the heyday of Moore, who did become a celebrity in his own right, his profession has actually lost ground in the struggle for public esteem. So many collaborative pianists today are not just intensely focused musicians but also the driving-forces, creatively and intellectually, behind song and chamber-music festivals – where they frequently play ten times as many notes as their ‘star’ collaborators. Yet still they often have to accept a smaller typeface on the programme and, sometimes, smaller fees as well.
Plus, other minor humiliations along the way. Some star female singers, for instance, are notorious for wanting only male pianists on stage with them, concerned that their own frock won’t be the most glamorous object on view. And whether the accompanist is male or female, I sometimes detect a reticence in their playing that stems not from caution or any lack of technique but from a misplaced sense of deference. They have been made to feel that they are the junior partner in the relationship and therefore should be providing a gentle aural backing for the ‘star’, rather than a full-blown interpretation of a piano part that is often fascinating in its own right.
Piano accompanists must be consummate, empathetic musicians
The second thing to strike me is a more general thought. All those skills that pianists need when partnering singers or instrumentalists – intense emotional empathy, instantaneous responsiveness to someone else’s nuances (even when spontaneously done during a performance) and the psychological insight to recognise what extra-musical support, encouragement and advice a partner needs to perform well – are traits that every musician should acquire. And certainly, every musician who aspires to conduct (which is so often an exercise in accompaniment) or to play chamber music, where the rapport between participants is central to the success of a performance.
But how well are empathy, responsiveness and psychological acumen instilled into young musicians? It strikes me that performing in a youth orchestra or choir doesn’t quite cut it, valuable though that social and musical experience is. In those situations, young musicians are usually just doing what the conductor wants. And if you want to reach the top as a singer or instrumentalist you will inevitably spend much of the rest of your life in solitary confinement – practising by yourself until you reach the required level of technical perfection and individuality in interpretation.
Far too little time, it seems to me, is devoted to the skill of building partnerships with other musicians, learning how to put forward your own interpretative ideas while being respectful to others, and working out how to meld those diverse ideas together into a coherent whole. Or in learning how to be confident without crushing the individuality of others – and the converse: how to prevent someone with a more pronounced ego from pressurising you into conforming with their ideas.
Being a connected, responsive musician fosters vital life skills
I don’t think these qualities – empathy, responsiveness, psychological acumen, confidence – are vital only in order to make music with others. I also think they lead to a deeper level of mutual understanding in many contexts. In his visionary book Everything is Connected, Daniel Barenboim puts forward the idea that once you connect musically with someone else – even someone who has had a completely different and diametrically opposed upbringing to you – you also understand a great deal more about them.
The example he draws on is the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra, which he founded to bring together young Israeli and Arab musicians, sharing the same desks and playing the same music. ‘The fundamental principle was quite simple,’ Barenboim writes. ‘Once the young musicians agreed on how to play just one note together, they would not be able to look at each other in the same way again.’
That’s what empathy can do for musicians, and for society as a whole. It’s ironic that piano ‘accompanists’, though often so low in the musical hierarchy, are the performers who have to demonstrate this empathy every moment of their working lives. They are pioneers and exemplars. We should celebrate them much more than we do.
