I was dismayed - as in, literally reacted with schoolgirl-like raising of hand to open mouth :eek: - to hear this morning on Classic FM that Carlo Curley had just died. He’d performed only three weeks earlier at the church in the next parish over to celebrate the rebuilding of their organ over the last few months and I considered myself privileged to meet him and spent most of the concert with a delighted smile on my face.
Some have said one thing about Carlo and some another, but I found him friendly, polite and encouraging - I made a joke on shaking his hand about hoping some of the magic would rub off, though at my best I’d be barely fit to turn the music for him - and while he was clearly overweight and walking awkwardly with a stick I had no idea he was seriously ill. Assuming he was, that is; I’ve yet to find out what he died of.
Adios, Carlo. I hope wherever you’ve gone the organs have eight manuals, a thousand ranks, and a 256ft Dei Ira stop on the pedals.