Friday, January 03, 2025

I am not obliged to do any more

 The large bay window facing the garden in front of our house is better than television. No commercials, no dependency on internet whims, no bills to pay. That’s where I do most of my reading (best lighting in the house). From the couch I watch the show in the garden. 

Butterflies, moths and skippers. The occasional Northern mockingbird or cardinal. Squirrels, hummingbirds and this year a bumper crop of lizards – green and brown anoles. Not to mention the occasional human neighbor. Ten-thousand little comedies and dramas. 

About As Approachable As a Porcupine'


'To Have Part of His Life to Himself'

“I am not obliged to do any more.” 

Retirement is my choice. For most of my life I assumed I would drop dead at the keyboard in my office, mid-sentence, but next week I retire. I have always enjoyed work, the sense of contributing something to an enterprise, no matter how paltry, mustering words for some utilitarian purpose and getting paid for it. In my case that amounted to five newspapers (three of them now defunct) and two universities. I like routine gently interrupted by the unexpected, which describes the career I have improvised. Reporting was the graduate school I never otherwise had. I’ve been fairly lucky with bosses. Only two stand out as sociopaths and one of them is dead. No grudges. No regrets. 



 

As a kid I once asked my mother what job could I get so they would pay me for reading books. When she stopped laughing at me she told me to grow up. So, now in retirement I’m reviewing books and sometimes even getting paid for it. Thanks to my wife we are financially secure. 

 

The sentence at the top is Dr. Johnson speaking in the spring of 1766, age fifty-five, to Boswell and Goldsmith. As recounted by the former, he continues:

 

“No man is obliged to do as much as he can do. A man is to have part of his life to himself. If a soldier has fought a good many campaigns, he is not to be blamed, if he retires to ease and tranquility. A physician, who has practiced long in a great city, may be excused, if he retires to a small town, and takes less practice. Now, Sir, the good I can do by my conversation bears the same proportion to the good I can do by my writings, that the practice of a physician, retired to a small town, does to his practice in a great city.”

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Schubert Is the Best Cure I Know for Loneliness

 Music doesn't lie. If there is something to be changed in this world, then it can only happen through music.

~ Jimi Hendrix

He [Vaclav Havel] did love music. And so much about the Czech revolution was about music.

~ Judy Woodruff



Schubert Is the Best Cure I Know for Loneliness

Illustration of a person listening to musical notes floating out of a stereo.
Credit...Matthew C. Kramer

By Jonathan Biss

Mr. Biss is a concert pianist.

We live in an age of isolation. Its dangerous effects are becoming ever clearer: online radicalization, increasingly poisonous politics, evidence that more and more people consider themselves functionally friendless. This crisis is particularly acuteduring the holidays.

But 200 years before the term “loneliness epidemic” entered the lexicon — before the scholarly articles and the surgeon general’s warnings and the World Health Organization reports and the think pieces and the hand-wringing and the finger-pointing — there was Franz Schubert.

Schubert, one of the greatest composers, understood solitude better than most mortals and made poetry of it. While 21st-century technologies are conspiring to distance us from one another, his music speaks to something timeless: the longing for connection, and the pain at not finding it. He gives voice, and then consolation, to that part of us that feels alone in the world even when surrounded by people who care for us. A colleague of mine refers to him as “the musician’s best friend.”

In recent years, he indeed has been mine. When the pandemic hit and for the first time in decades I had no concerts to practice for, instinct led me to Schubert’s final three piano sonatas. Living alone and peering at an anxious future, I felt those pieces spoke to me like no others. In the nearly five years since, hardly a day has gone by when I haven’t worked on at least one of them; in that time I’ve performed these sonatas scores of times, as recently as this month during a tour in Asia. Immersion in these works has been among the greatest gifts of my life.

Schubert was 31 when he wrote these piano sonatas, in September 1828; two months later, he was dead. He was living in his brother’s house in suburban Vienna, in a dank, poorly heated room barely large enough to hold a desk and a bed. The mattress he died on and a few items of clothing formed the entirety of his estate.

The gulf between these pitiable circumstances and the music that emerged from them is impossible to overstate. Taken together, these sonatas require a good two hours to play. The music confronts mortality, with incredulity in the first sonata, a flash of terror in the second and something resembling acceptance in the third. When you play or listen to them, the sense of leave-taking and the sorrow that accompanies it becomes an almost physical presence in the room. Scholars have debated whether Schubert knew he was so near to death when he wrote these works. To my ear, it is unthinkable that they could spring from the imagination of a person anticipating a future.

As Schubert writes his way through the phases of grief, loneliness lies at the music’s emotional center, whatever is happening on the surface.

The C minor Sonata, the first of the three, is rageful and terrifying: it stares death in the face and demands that you do the same. For the most part, it unfolds with a remorseless momentum — atypically for Schubert, there is little digression. This music has no time for tenderness.

Until, suddenly, it does. The slow movement arrives, and all the music’s hard edges soften. The principal theme is pure consolation. It begins by encircling a single note, regarding it from below and then from above with affection. This theme, with simplicity and honesty, reveals Schubert’s essence in all its generosity and all its loneliness. Each time it reappears, its longing is heightened, reflecting a need that will not be met.

Often, it is not the notes themselves but the spaces between them that are most revelatory. In the A major Sonata, the center of the trilogy, a work as fantastically ambiguous as the C minor is single-minded, these silences take on different meanings. The second movement contains a stretch of music that is nightmarish, unhinged: a terrified id rendered in sound. It loses its harmonic bearings and grows simultaneously more aimless and more hysterical until, with a shriek, it suddenly stops. Silences in music carry tremendous power, and their character depends on the music that precedes them: they can question, or cajole, or menace. This time, silence is a paralysis, the stillness of a person who is desperate to escape from the abyss but knows there is nowhere to escape to.

The silences in the last movement could hardly be more different. This movement’s main theme is one of Schubert’s greatest lyrical inspirations — as achingly beautiful and openhearted as any of the more than 600 songs he wrote. But when it makes one final appearance, moments before the end of the sonata, it begins to break down. It trails off, midstream, the resultant silence an anxious question mark. When it resumes, it is newly guarded, its disarming simplicity unrecoverable. It stops and restarts no fewer than four times, each time growing more enigmatic. These silences are wondrous and moving in the extreme: they contain a whole universe of vulnerable feeling, stripping the ballast from the music that surrounds them.


The final sonata, in B flat major, is, to me, classical music’s most shattering farewell. It does not so much begin as emerge from the silence that precedes it. Its first moments, featuring a melody of absolute simplicity — rising, then falling, so gently, rhyming like a child’s poem — suggest that this piece will be an expression of serenity. But as it proceeds, its truth is revealed to be more complicated. A premonitory trill in the lowest register of the piano is answered by yet another silence, a heavy one, fraught with uncertainty. When the melody returns, making no concession to this soundless interruption, we understand: It is not serene, but haunted. Haunted with regret about a life that has been filled with loneliness and that Schubert is nonetheless bereft to be leaving behind.

Loneliness is universal; paradoxically it is a shared part of the human experience. Schubert knew this, and had the gift to convey it in sound, sometimes with profound sadness, but never with bitterness. Schubert’s heart remains open, ready to be broken anew. If you feel alone — because of holiday anxiety, or political uncertainty, or life circumstances, or simply because you are a person — I implore you: Listen to Schubert. He offers his soul to the listener, without armor or guile. He is our best friend.

Jonathan Biss is a concert pianist.

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How will we live in 2025? Trends in design, interiors and gardening to look out for

The trajectory of the modern house has been firmly expansionist. Successive generations have built side returns, rear extensions, excavated basements and extended upwards. But now that all that land has become interior there seems to be a wistful recognition of the pleasance of the presence of nature. Houseplants only take you so far.


 How will we live in 2025? Trends in design, interiors and gardening to look out for

Where will we move to, what will we plant, how will we build and which colours will we paint it all? Experts from Kelly Wearstler to Tom Stuart-Smith have the answers









Interiors

DIY reimagined

FAYE TOOGOOD, ARTIST, DESIGNER AND FOUNDER, TOOGOOD
I feel there will be a greater sense of playfulness and a push towards individualism. Limited budgets and a desire to move away from homogeneous high-street collections will mean we will seek to create things other people don’t have. This will mean a renewed enthusiasm for eclectic, vintage and second-hand pieces and DIY. I’m enthusiastic for a more 1970s approach: patchwork curtains made out of old fabrics; a second-hand cupboard painted in a mix of paints found in the garage; a giant fish cushion crocheted with your newfound crochet skills; a canvas on the wall painted by your kids. Let’s not make it too serious and let’s try to not make it identikit. 

A second look at stained glass

LUKE EDWARD HALL, DESIGNER AND FT COLUMNIST
I’m having a stained glass moment: I’m spending many of my weekends tracking down the best examples in churches close to me at home in Gloucestershire. I’d like to see more stained glass in domestic interiors. I want to incorporate it in my interior design projects, but you don’t necessarily need to commit to full windows. Try tracking down beautiful old panels at auction and through specialist dealers.

Functional playfulness

KELLY WEARSTLER, DESIGNER
Next year I’m looking forward to experimenting with pieces that serve both as functional objects and artistic statements — pieces that invite interaction, encouraging us to reimagine how we engage with our environments. One example is the 1980s Triangular Suspension Pendant by Mario Botta for Artemide. I love the way its bold geometric form creates an interplay of light and shadow that transforms depending on your viewing angle. The way it commands attention while remaining a functional light source perfectly embodies what I’m drawn to. 

Frameless furniture

MARK ALLEN, BUYING MANAGER, ARAM
At Aram, we have seen a trend towards less structured, highly cushioned, and apparently “frameless” sofas and we think this will become more apparent in 2025. Cassina launched the Moncloud by Patricia Urquiola in 2023, and since then we have noticed styles where legs are invisible and cushions are layered. At Milan Design Week 2024, Knoll launched the Perron Pillo Sofa by Willo Perron. Tacchini launched the Solar by Faye Toogood, and BD Barcelona launched the Sausage sofa by Willo Perron and brought Muller Van Severen’s Pillow sofa back into production, taking the trend to the extreme!

Red alert

BRITT MORAN AND EMILIANO SALCI, FOUNDERS, DIMORESTUDIO 
2025 is set to embrace individuality and bold designchoices, with hints of red emerging as a key accent.

Textured layering

ED BAKOS, PARTNER AND CHIEF EXECUTIVE, CHAMPALIMAUD DESIGN
Handcrafted, warm, emotional touches are appearing more. It’s a lot less clinical, with wood and layered textures. A bespoke hand-painted wallcovering or a sculptural staircase conveys a human touch.

Red alert

BRITT MORAN AND EMILIANO SALCI, FOUNDERS, DIMORESTUDIO 
2025 is set to embrace individuality and bold designchoices, with hints of red emerging as a key accent.

Textured layering

ED BAKOS, PARTNER AND CHIEF EXECUTIVE, CHAMPALIMAUD DESIGN
Handcrafted, warm, emotional touches are appearing more. It’s a lot less clinical, with wood and layered textures. A bespoke hand-painted wallcovering or a sculptural staircase conveys a human touch.

Colour

Toasty tones

CASSANDRA ELLIS, FOUNDER, ATELIER ELLIS
A selection of gentle toasty tones can be a cosseting palette to live within. Contrasting these shades can soften a room and make corners seem to disappear. Our Tea & Toast, Beginnings, Warm White and Solstice, for example, would be good. Or a colour that allows the light to fall beautifully. Our musky purple-brown Fallen Plum feels ancient, and light seeps in and dances across it. 

Earth and spice

JOA STUDHOLME, COLOUR CURATOR, FARROW & BALL
We will certainly still be drawn to deep earth tones in 2025, so clay shades and deep greens that feel “down to earth”, such as Farrow & Ball’s Cardamom, Red Earth and Tanner’s Brown, will be popular along with some spicier tones. These will be used in ever more daring combinations, with little white being used on ceilings or trim, and in a mix of finishes — such as Dead Flat being used alongside Full Gloss.

Property

The great school shake-up

LUCIAN COOK, HEAD OF UK RESIDENTIAL RESEARCH, SAVILLS
The addition of VAT on school fees will be one of the key issues at the top end of the housing market. For those whose children are settled at a school, it might mean putting off plans to upsize. That is likely to suppress demand and could act as a drag on a recovery in the prime housing market. Those whose finances are more heavily squeezed are likely to look further afield, often focusing on areas where there are clusters of higher performing state schools, such as Winchester and Bath, or counties with a grammar school system such as Kent and Lincolnshire. This will mean intense competition for both school places and houses in these areas: the trade-off between house prices, commutability and schools will be hotly debated next year.

Saunas 2.0

JEMMA SCOTT, PARTNER, THE BUYING SOLUTION
Sauna tech is what our clients are after. A recent client has installed a smart sauna — most traditional saunas take a while to heat up, this client switches hers on when she’s on the train home from work via an app. Those with special outdoor spaces like bothies in their gardens are also transforming them into “wild” saunas.

The protected landscape premium

LIAM BAILEY, GLOBAL HEAD OF RESEARCH, KNIGHT FRANK
The UK government is committed to development — lots of it. If you want economic growth it might make sense, if you want to live your dream country lifestyle, then less so. However, there are still some protected landscapes such as the Golden Valley near Bath, Cairngorms National Park or the Cotswolds. According to Knight Frank’s research, the premium for living in a National Park is 22.6 per cent, and in an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty (AONB), it’s 29.2 per cent. Expect a big increase in complaints from local residents — and recent transplants — about rising demand, escalating prices, and pubs serving fancy “London food”.

Millennial Miami

MICHAEL STERN, CHIEF EXECUTIVE, JDS DEVELOPMENT GROUP
In the past five or so years, Miami has grown up to provide a diverse and stable economy and real cultural depth. It was always fun and playful but now it has also become a serious place to do business. In the old days, a chief executive would retire here. Now that CEO is coming aged much younger — and bringing the company with them.

Super-prime renting

BECKY FATEMI, EXECUTIVE PARTNER, UK SOTHEBY’S INTERNATIONAL REALTY
I’m seeing clients try before they buy, renting homes instead of buying at the top end of the market. Next year is going to see some seriously big transactions for Dubai and London. We have some big searches already for London for next year from American families interested in schools. They are looking to spend up to £40,000 a week for a two or three-year rental, and then will assess their situation. Dubai is hot right now, but it is a transient place and crucially it is not everyone’s “forever” view. 
In 2024 we struggled with stock but we have recently been valuing a lot of prime London properties, from £10,000 a week upwards, in areas like Mayfair and Belgravia. These are properties both that have been used as family homes by non-doms looking to move temporarily abroad, and others that have been on the sales market and not sold. We are seeing the return of the accidental landlord.

Dumb tech

JONATHAN BRANDLING-HARRIS, CO-FOUNDER, HOUSE COLLECTIVE
Our clients are increasingly rejecting smart home technology. Even things like classic light switches are being favoured over complex systems — people want knobs, not panels. One major reason for this shift is the fear of systems failing or becoming too complex to manage. Recently a client’s doors and windows suddenly opened and stayed ajar for 10 hours until an engineer could fix the issue. 

Flowers and gardens

Mocha roses

WHITNEY BROMBERG HAWKINGS, FOUNDER AND CHIEF EXECUTIVE, FLOWERBX
The rose is having a bit of a comeback, especially in more muted tones, like the Mocha rose which is similar in shade to the Pantone colour of 2025, Mocha Mousse. I think this “quiet luxury” of a flower will take centre stage as we move into more subdued decor.

Edible meets ornamental

HAZEL GARDINER, FLORAL DESIGNER
In the face of the climate crisis, traditional ornate gardensare being replaced by purpose-driven, high-yield spaces that prioritise functionality — combining edibles with ornamentals.
Rewilding and naturalistic planting are no longer trends but essentials. Beyond supporting pollinators, gardens may feature hard-working plants such as drought-tolerant Eryngium giganteum, which brings structural beauty and winter interest. I predict we will seek out colourful medicinal species such as Calendula officinalis, alongside pollution and sound-absorbing plants.

Even wilder wildness

TOM STUART-SMITH, LANDSCAPE ARCHITECT AND GARDEN DESIGNER
Gardens will see an increasingly intense response to the degradation of the natural world around us. They will be seen as havens not just for all of us but also for other species, whether they are plants or animals. So I look forward to ever greater diversity, wildness and complexity — and less of the other stuff, with plastic at the top of the list.  

Architecture

Building nature indoors

EDWIN HEATHCOTE, FT ARCHITECTURE AND DESIGN CRITIC
The trajectory of the modern house has been firmly expansionist. Successive generations have built side returns, rear extensions, excavated basements and extended upwards. But now that all that land has become interior there seems to be a wistful recognition of the pleasance of the presence of nature. Houseplants only take you so far.
The result is a proliferation of internal courtyards as people invite air, light and nature back in. It’s a trend I think at least partly influenced by the imaginative modernist houses of Brazil and Japan and by new designs from south-east Asia, where architects create compact tropical gardens which help ventilate, illuminate and vegetate the interior.
But in northern Europe and the northern US cities, lacking that tropical abundance, they are creating something a little more Zen — rocks and gravel with a few striking plants or perhaps a single tree.

Prioritising water

AMANDA LEVETE, ARCHITECT
Water is a precious resource and it is under tremendous pressure. As architects we need to be more mindful of this and collect every drop of water that falls on our sites, creating a circle of reuse and management. We need to use water to help cool our cities, to irrigate and to design roads and paths that absorb water. In the US, agriculture is responsible for 80 per cent of all water consumed — one way we can create more efficient water use is for architects to incorporate urban allotments for communities to grow food. 

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