Our wonderful elderly audiences

Last Saturday, as I walked up to the Winspear Centre for my final concert with the Edmonton Symphony, I saw someone being wheeled up the ramp to the front entrance. It appeared that he was coming from a bus which had brought a large number of old people to the concert, perhaps from a nursing home. I arrived at the venue with some of those familiar worries which most performers have in that hour before the curtain rises, but seeing this man my heart instantly lifted. It seemed to me wonderful that he was there to hear Beethoven and I was the one who this evening was to bring that music to life.

Francis Winspear Centre for Music

It's sounds corny to talk about it being a privilege but that's exactly what it felt like. Kelvin Holdsworth, the Provost of St. Mary's Cathedral, Glasgow, wrote once on his stimulating blog that he thought the vocation of a priest was to be a 'joy bringer'. I love that idea and think that it applies equally to musicians, however varied the range of emotions classical music actually explores. We are Jupiters, one and all!

But back to the old man ascending the ramp. He reminded me of the fact, often lamented, that audiences for classical concerts are mainly made up of old people, and how difficult it seems to be to attract the young to attend. In that Edmonton moment – by the parked bus, amidst the clink of Zimmer frames – this seemed like a blasphemy. Greying audiences? I Iove them! With old age comes wisdom, patience, subtlety, contemplation – all qualities needed to appreciate great and complex music.

I've been playing professionally for over thirty years now and there's always been a sea of grey beyond the footlights. So what? A new grey has replaced the old grey. In the leisure of retirement or in the freedom from the responsibility of looking after children people can finally find the time to go to concerts. This is not in any way to discourage young people from loving classical music and from joining us in the concert halls. In Asian countries especially it's thrilling to see large numbers of students at concerts, clutching scores and taking photographs, and for the young of all nations there should be as much education, encouragement, accessibility and affordability as possible. But not at the expense of making our old people feel less welcome, as if we only tolerate them because we can't attract a younger, hipper audience.

Classical music should be a great equalizer. Not just socially (yes, we need constantly to be reminded of the madness of our wild, radical composers being seen as mouthpieces for the respectable or the suburban or the posh), but also across the generations. The Beethoven concerto I was playing this past week was written two hundred years ago; there were people in the audience who were probably approaching their own century; and the conductor, Jean-Marie Zeitouni and concertmaster Robert Uchida were both showing me photographs of their infants at the post-concert dinner. Classical music across the ages: timeless, universal, ageless.