Music in performance is ephemeral.  Once the voices fall silent, the instruments are put away and the doors of the concert hall close, music remains only in the memory, which is why recorded music is so precious.  It enables us to live again that music which has ‘expressed the inexpressible’ for us. For my part, it helps me to recall the songs I loved singing, through the half dozen or so LP records I made in the early nineteen seventies.

These are mostly Welsh folk songs, sung to my own guitar accompaniment, though there are two LPs recorded with my sister, the harpist Ann Griffiths. They are no longer available, though a trawl through some collectors’ web sites online will sometimes turn one up. There is also one track of mine, entitled ‘Carnifal’, on the Ffrindiau Ryan (Ryan’s Friends) tribute CD, available from Sain Records. SAIN SCD 2634

Music has been the background to my life: I was brought up with it.  I was encouraged to learn it, to listen to it and perform it.  I have made music as a soloist and with groups of singers and instrumentalists, choirs and orchestras.  When there is no music, I can still hear it in my mind.  You have only to look at the work of the inspirational young choir masters Gareth Malone and Tim Rhys-Evans to realise that music opens windows and widens horizons.  It is an enormously precious gift, giving pleasure to both the giver and the receiver. I will always be grateful to my parents for that gift.  It has never left me and it never will.