This month, I have been thinking about a former colleague who died last month. So please indulge this somewhat personal reflection.
John Williamson Wallace (14 April 1949 – 11 January 2026) was a Scottish trumpet player, composer and arts educator. He came from a family tradition of brass band playing. He performed as a trumpet player of leading London orchestras, the principal trumpet of the Philharmonia Orchestra from 1976 to 1995. Solo performances included prominently playing a trumpet solo at the wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer in 1981. He founded his own brass ensemble, The Wallace Collection, in 1986. Wallace was principal of the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland from 2002 to 2014, and held leading positions in associations for educational matters and historic brass instruments.
I was so deeply saddened to hear of John’s passing. He was, of course, an extraordinary musician but to me he was a terrific intellect and a radical and passionate pedagogue who never stopped learning. I feel very privileged to have worked alongside him during all his years at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland (RCS) where I was Head of Performance Pedagogy for 25 years. John initiated the sector leading Curriculum Reform Project that truly took the RCS into the 21st Century, proving that tradition walks hand in hand with innovation. He never shied away from what he didn’t understand but embraced complexity. He was vital in supporting the degree course I founded and led for over 20 years (the BA(Hons) Contemporary Performance Practice) and over a decade of graduates have him to thank for enabling this most radical of degrees to flourish under his Principalship. He was a transformational leader, a truly inspiring colleague and a deeply caring human being.
We had many robust (some difficult) conversations over the years we worked together but John was committed to mutual growth and the overall good of the Conservatoire. He was a self-confident person and viewed tough conversations as bridges between misunderstanding and clarity. I will always be grateful for what I learned in those encounters, however challenging.
Whilst looking back, I rifled through some of our old correspondence and found an email that made me think again about what a prescient understanding John had. For context, Colin and I had not even viewed The Lint Mill in June 2009. We found our new home later that summer and moved here in October 2009. Hilariously, I remember this exchange with John being about trying to require that students took shoes off before entering drama studio spaces and bemoaning the fact that I was not high enough in the Conservatoire hierarchy (the food chain) to insist on it. This is what John said to me in an email,
Dear Debby
If there is a food chain you are the food producer - you are the organic farmer - you farm our content - you produce our content - you produce the harvest of our content - you sow the seeds - you produce the culture that germinates the seeds. Seems to me that we need an agrarian revolution and you call the shots - especially about what sort of wellies you all wear in the paddy fields.
John
22 June 2009
I was amused but also astonished to read this again. It would be years before I made the transformation from ‘professor’ to ‘farmer’ but here was John giving me a clear analogy between my educational practice and agriculture.
Full-time at The Lint Mill since 2020, following my own agrarian revolution, I recognise that my work has always been rooted in transformation, supporting people who want to grow - on the land and in their work - with intention and integrity. Whether teaching about contemporary performance or about keeping goats, the process is the same and it’s that process of transformation that I value the most.


Debby, when I saw the first picture pop up in your email (the one above) I was so curious about what I would learn from this newsletter. You never disappoint, but reading this tribute to your friend and colleague also brought to light your professional life and love of the arts. So even though I don’t enjoy digging in the dirt, I share your love of music as a piano accompanist. Keep writing!
Thank you so much for taking the time to comment and for your kind words Alethea. I hope you still get joy from playing the piano.