As Protestants, the pair were forced to flee to the continent during the reign of Catholic Queen Mary I – a reminder that refugees, fearing an intolerant regime, were once driven from our shores in small boats. Katherine had a son in exile and, after returning to England, enjoyed a long and happy later life. It made for a fascinating potted history.
That was all interesting enough, thought Lloyd Webber, but where did his musical genes come from? It turned out to be on his working-class father’s side. Climbing the family tree beyond a singing plumber and an East End missionary, the composer discovered that he was descended from a circus family called the Magitos. They included rope dancers and a six-times great-uncle who’d been a virtuoso cellist and composer of six cello sonatas.
An intriguing tour all told, most notably without the usual theatrical emoting. In fact, the producers only managed to wrench one single tear from him over the drowning of a boy, who had slipped into the Thames; an incident that reminded him of an uncle who had also drowned (aged 18).
Otherwise, it appeared that age had mellowed the composer. Now 75, Lloyd-Webber pottered around affably, tinkling out a snatch of Don’t Cry for Me Argentina on a pub piano. Bravo to him for keeping the past in perspective.