The world of classical music has lost one of its most revered voices. Andrew Clements, The Guardian’s beloved classical music critic, has passed away at 75, leaving behind a legacy of insightful writing and unwavering passion for the art form. But here’s where it gets even more remarkable: his journey to becoming a leading critic was shaped by a single, transformative encounter with a piece by Pierre Boulez during his school years—an experience that ignited a lifelong devotion to contemporary music. This moment not only defined his career but also cemented his reputation as a fearless advocate for composers who challenged the status quo.
Clements joined The Guardian’s arts team in 1993, stepping into the role of chief music critic after a personal recommendation from the legendary pianist Alfred Brendel. Brendel’s endorsement highlighted Clements’s profound understanding of contemporary music—a quality that would set him apart for the next 32 years. During his tenure, Clements explored every corner of classical music, from solo piano masterpieces to avant-garde compositions, always writing with a clarity and depth that earned him the respect of peers and readers alike. His five-star reviews were not just accolades but hard-won validations of artistic excellence.
What most people miss is how Clements’s influence extended far beyond his reviews. His unwavering support for composers like Harrison Birtwistle, Hans Abrahamsen, Oliver Knussen, and Mark-Anthony Turnage helped elevate their work in the eyes of critics and musical institutions. And this is the part that sparks debate: was his championing of lesser-known composers a reflection of his progressive tastes, or did it sometimes alienate more traditional audiences? Let’s discuss that in the comments.
Before The Guardian, Clements honed his craft at the New Statesman and Musical Times, and wrote for the Financial Times from 1979 to 1993. His academic background in theoretical physics from Cambridge University might seem unrelated, but it perhaps contributed to his analytical approach to music criticism. Yet, it was his emotional connection to music—particularly solo piano works—that truly resonated. In one of his final pieces, he praised Radu Lupu, calling him a source of ‘consistent pleasure and a greater sense of wonder’—a sentiment that encapsulates Clements’s own impact on readers.
Beyond music, Clements was an avid enthusiast of birds, butterflies, and orchids—a detail that adds a charming layer to his personality. His occasionally gruff demeanor masked a kind, warm, and self-deprecating nature. Colleagues remember him as supportive, generous, and always ready to share a laugh, even at his own expense.
Katharine Viner, The Guardian’s editor-in-chief, summed it up beautifully: ‘Andrew Clements wrote about classical music with the utmost passion and precision. His reviews were not only illuminating but a joy to read.’ But here’s the question: in an era of declining arts coverage, how do we ensure that voices like Clements’s continue to thrive? Share your thoughts below—this is a conversation worth having.
