Obituary - Conrad Wilson, writer and music critic at The Herald

Died: November 17, 2017

TWENTY-SIX years ago, two figures might have been seen deep in conversation among the headstones in an old Glasgow cemetery. One was Michael Tumelty, music critic for The Herald. The other was Conrad Wilson, Tumelty’s counterpart long associated with that other newspaper located at the far end of the M8, the Scotsman. The site was the historic Ramshorn graveyard behind the building that was The Herald’s main office at the time.

The topic under discussion was, of course, music, specifically how best to combine their writing talents in a new professional partnership now that Wilson was prepared to join The Herald on a freelance basis, in essence as Tumelty’s right-hand man. It was a little ticklish. Michael was celebrated for his no-nonsense populism (underpinned by a great love for, and wide knowledge of his subject) while Conrad tended to the more austere end of the scale. His opinion at times could be acerbic.

Michael relates: "I asked if Conrad might be prepared to – how can I put it? – sweeten his approach a little while losing none of his highly individual style."

Michael recalls with relish that the article he subsequently wrote introducing his new colleague was headed The Gentleman and the Thug. "No one ever asked which one was which," he says. In fact it was a dream pairing, Conrad’s suave, authoritative and meticulous approach melding perfectly with Michael’s ebullience, possibly to the initial surprise and lasting benefit of Herald readers.

Michael particularly valued Conrad’s encyclopaedic knowledge of all things musical. "If anyone had a question the first response was always ‘ask Conrad. He’ll know.’"

Conrad’s death at the age of 85 leaves a big gap in the Scottish cultural scene. The 1991 kirkyard meeting followed 27 years as the Scotsman’s critic, when he built up a wide-ranging network of connections in the musical world. Among those he interviewed at length at that time were the composers Benjamin Britten, Michael Tippett, William Walton, the conductors Sir Adrian Boult and of course Sir Alexander Gibson (whose official biographer he became) and in other fields the novelist Nicolas Nabokov and the idiosyncratic writer and broadcaster Ivor Cutler.

There was a dramatic scene, witnessed by Harry Reid, who would later become editor of The Herald, when the diva Jessye Norman swept regally and unannounced into Rafaelle’s, an upmarket restaurant in the west end of Edinburgh, at the head of a large entourage which included Conrad. Chaos ensued when a place had to be found for the large lady and her guests, to the discomfiture of the other diners. It was talked about for years among the dining-out circle.

The same Rafaelle’s, now no more, was one of Conrad’s favourite haunts. It was also the setting for his second marriage. Vows were exchanged in the bar.

Music may have been Conrad’s first love but his interests were many. Always a connoisseur of good food and fine wine, he was one of the earliest journalists to write regularly about the pleasures of the table – his long-running column appearing under the rubric Gut Reaction, a surprisingly blunt title for a man of such refined taste.

Conrad played the piano for recreation. He had a fine library and could talk knowledgeably about the latest books, both fact and fiction. He enjoyed travel and for many years owned a flat in Lombardy when he became a familiar figure in the local village streets, cafes and restaurants. Friends were encouraged to visit and enjoy, amongst other pleasures, the view across the valley to the mountains. And for all his sophisticated tastes he was a family man at heart.

He wrote several books, including biographies of Puccini and Gibson, a history of the Royal Scottish National Orchestra, and an overview of the first ten years of Scottish Opera, which he regarded as the company’s golden age. In the 1980s he made his dislike of some of its current productions patently clear, and for a time there was palpable resentment within the company of his caustic views. He also wrote a series of composer monographs, and throughout his career produced programme notes for various orchestras and ensembles.

Conrad Wilson was educated at Daniel Stewart’s College in Edinburgh where he claims to have been the first pupil to sit (and pass) higher music. He did national service in the RAF where he served his Queen (and the American forces) for two years in a job that squaddies with a cultural bent must have envied, working at a desk in the Paris headquarters of SHAPE (Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers in Europe). This provided ample opportunity for engaging in the Parisian cultural scene. While there, he also managed to moonlight as a freelance contributor to the Scotsman and Edinburgh Evening Dispatch.

Did he ever dream of a career in music? In the 1950s he composed songs and incidental music for the Gateway Theatre’s review Round the Town, starring Rikki Fulton, Edith McArthur and Lennox Milne. The show ran for six weeks, but thereafter the fledgling composer seems to have retired from the field.

A second spell abroad occurred when Conrad became sleeve-note editor for Philips Records at their headquarters in Holland, his official title being the magisterial Hoetzentekstenschrijver. You may recognise the Scots word ‘scriever’ in there. He returned to join the Scotsman as its London cultural correspondent before moving back to Edinburgh.

For my part, I always admired Conrad’s ability to work under pressure and to produce immaculate copy whatever the circumstances. He was a master of the deadline. I was present at his house-warming party where amid the hubbub he sat at his computer in the corner calmly typing some urgently wanted article.

Conrad married twice, first to Ruth, with whom he had Nick and Susie, and then to Sue, which led to a second family of Micaela, Cosima and Marcella.

JOHN FOWLER