The Keyboard Cinderella

If music be the food of love, play on; the oft-quoted words of William Shakespeare who might well have sprinkled his music with austerity. In the field of creativity the most talented often suffer financial hardship. How paradoxical that Jacqueline Heath, an artiste who has a beauty and talent most women crave for, should be economically compromised. Kent born, she is one of those ladies you usually discover in marble; the enduring image of classical feminine beauty. Her capacity to enchant does not stop there for she is also a pianoforte virtuoso. Wherever she plays she beguiles and delights her audience.

Extraordinary Talent

Jacqueline's prodigious talent first became apparent when, from the age of just seven years, she was charming audiences with her performances. With encores ringing in her ears and a talent begging to be cultivated her parents enrolled her at London's renowned Royal College of Music. This conservatoire-like experience was crowned first by the thorns of unrelenting rehearsal and eventually by success when she graduated with honours.

As in other great cities there is no shortage of musical ability in London where entertainment lures the world's cognoscenti of good taste. Jacqueline's world was her pearl-laden oyster; stardom surely beckoned this 'poetess of the keyboard.' She was soon spotted by Barrie Breton, a keyboard entertainer who had trodden the boards with performers used to seeing their name in lights. Had it been otherwise the elfin-sized prodigy might easily have been absorbed by classical ensemble.

The Song of the Keyboard

Conversely; a string of eclectic jazz watering holes were added to the young pianist's burgeoning curriculum vitae. The song of the keyboard was always in perfect harmony with the diminutive enchantress: Her repertoire extended from Chopin études to the jazz greats. Jacqueline's love affair with the piano never diminished. The siren-call was to come from Spain's Mediterranean coast; there being more nightingales there than in Berkeley Square. This is where I first set eyes and ears on the captivating maestra. Not surprisingly she became an inspiration to me; a wordsmith who had once been Britain's most popular contemporary poet. I relished the chance to profile her. Each time I heard her play I could see in my heart's eye a marble figurine in financial pieces scattered upon a gallery's mosaic flooring. Could such talent go unrecognised by the purse-string holders?

Seemingly the truly gifted are fated to perform for those who know the price of everything but the value of nothing. Johannes Brahms played Hamburg's quayside brothels, Andrea Bocelli in restaurants, whilst the world class soprano Anna Netrebko scraped by in St. Petersburg.

A Lesson in Music

Recently a man chose a Washington DC metro station to play his violin, for it was bitterly cold outside. For 45-minutes he played Bach pieces, during which time thousands passed him without pausing or giving a glance in his direction. By the time he returned his violin to its case he had collected just $32. That musician was Joshua Bell; one of the world's great violinists. The violin, which he played that day, is worth $3.5 million. Two nights' previous, patrons had clamoured for $100 tickets to hear him play. The station occasion was a social experiment conducted by the Washington Post to gauge public perception.

Between my pen-board and Jacqueline's keyboard she was soon to dominate the newspaper profiles of the region's most loved performers, but it was hardly the recognition she so richly deserves. Perhaps the melodic notes of her Orihuela Moonlight and Paseo Maritimo will attract the banknotes of those who still walk by? There are few things in life more poignant than to see an artiste who has thrilled theatre audiences, playing for her supper: Mozart must be spinning in his paupers' grave, if we can locate it. ©