In May 2024, David Price died of cancer. David was a musician, a co-founder (with Paul McCartney, among others) of the Liverpool Institute of the Performing Arts, the creator of “Musical Futures”, which upended how music was taught in secondary schools across the UK, and the head of the follow-up, Learning Futures, which applied those insights across the curriculum.
We recently published David’s article, The Route To School Improvement is Hiding In Plain Sight: It’s Culture, Stupid
This is the eulogy that his friend and frequent collaborator Valerie Hannon read at his funeral. The British spelling and punctuation has been preserved.
Charged with the challenge and the honour of trying to capture the spectacular quality of David Price’s life, an image, not words, came to mind. It was that of a brilliant, multi-faceted diamond. Because David’s amazing life had so many wonderful dimensions – all of which were glittering reflections of his unique personality. He was a many-splendoured human being.
This part of the story takes up where Trevor’s left off. You heard how Dave’s first identity was that of musician – which he never lost of course. The Entertainer, the Piano Man. The world of education has Sharon Osborne to thank for prematurely sacking him from what would likely have been a successful recording career. But the joy of music-making never left him nor his capacity to transmit that joy to others (of which more later). A vivid memory for me is when we were working in Melbourne together, Dave putting together a scratch rock band to play a gig for the women’s choir (by this time very drunk) he had been working with there and indeed becoming – as Trevor remarked – the Human Juke Box. They yelled out the name of a song – and he played it. His knowledge of and deep understanding of so many musical forms was extraordinary – from Quincy Jones, to Sondheim to Joni Mitchell to – of course – the Beatles.
But his musical career gave way to an unexpected one in education. I am quite sure that Dave’s particular qualities emerged in part from his experience as an early school leaver and then subsequently as a mature student. He had empathy for those – oh so many – whom the education systems fail. What it takes, and what it means to come to learning late, and differently. So initially he blended his expertise in the arts with learning in alternative and different contexts – community arts, adult education and then becoming the first Director of Learning at the newly established Liverpool Institute for the Performing Arts, sponsored by Paul McCartney. I think this created the platform for what was – in my view – one of his most brilliant facets: that of learning designer.
On the basis of his own experience he designed and developed the seminal program called Musical Futures, which was supported over a number of years by the Paul Hamlyn Foundation. Musical Futures, entirely through his vision, established a mode of learning music that was truly inclusive; that didn’t require the usual formal approaches that put off so many kids, but which released the joy of music-making in groups as a gateway to other pathways. That Dave achieved lasting support for the work in an organisation better known for its support of opera, and led by Lord Claus Moser a formidable classical musician, is in itself a tribute to his powers of persuasion and the quality of his ideas. Rightly, Dave’s work was recognised nationally by the award of an OBE in 2008. He endured having the mick taken out of him for this, by rightly pointing out it was the work itself that was recognised, and that was important. That work lives on, here and elsewhere. But I will say here and repeat later: so much of Dave’s work was visionary and ahead of its time. And I am absolutely certain that his ideas will come to be recognised as such in time; and people will say – but of course!
To complete this focus on the facet of Dave’s life as a learning designer: Musical Futures spawned many other programs: Language Futures extended the idea of inclusivity and community assets into the space of language learning. These initiatives came together in the major program we ran (again sponsored by the Hamlyn Foundation) called Learning Futures, which helped teachers develop new pedagogies grounded in relevant, real-world learning. Next up came Learning Frontiers, an Australia-wide program, which we ran out of the Innovation Unit, to address the root causes of learner disengagement in secondary schooling. These are just samples of the many initiatives Dave was a part of. This facet of Dave’s identity – to call it the professional development of educators is somehow inadequate, because it changed people deeply – morphed in a number of directions. He and Clare together led study tours for educators to some of the most innovative schools in the world in the US. Together they established a powerful program of professional development in project-based learning, both here but primarily in Australia, that was immensely impactful. And I want to say here that, influential as his work as a thought leader was – to which I am coming – I am quite sure that there are thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of kids in schools whose learning lives are seriously richer and more meaningful because of the profound influence he had upon their teachers and schools leaders; giving them back their agency and with new tools to exercise it. Dave continued his ground-breaking work in a program for the Roma Education Foundation, on new approaches to learning for the under-served Roma people of central Europe, continuing until just a couple of weeks before his death. His contribution was inspirational and invaluable.
Thought leadership was another facet of Dave’s life that emerged relatively late. He published three important books – characteristically ignoring the conventional publishing routes and using all the newly available tools to bring his ideas to public attention. Open, and The Power of Us, set out new visions as to how learning could be democratised, inclusive, socially useful, engaging and liberating. His writing style was so unpretentious: colloquial, direct and really funny. He drew on some of the classical sources but the research underpinning these books was all fresh and set out with flair. He had a world-wide vision – nourished by his own love of travel. So he was happy to work and research – well, pretty much anywhere: the US, India, China, Kathmandu, South Africa, Brazil, all across Europe, and of course New Zealand and Australia We were working together in Melbourne when the pandemic hit, and we had to scrabble for flights to get home. Dave and Clare spent lockdown peacefully here in this lovely place.
In his research and development work another of his facets emerges – that of connector. Of people, not just ideas. Knowing Dave meant that your professional network was multiplied by a factor of 10 at least. And on this theme of connector, I don’t want to lose sight of a third book which Dave was responsible for: Education Forward. In 2017 Dave, in his role as activist, pulled together some 16 writers, thinkers, leaders in the field of education innovation and demanded that we write the chapters of what became Education Forward. He said; it’s time we became a proper movement for change, got smart and argued cohesively for the changes that kids need – we are failing them! It was like herding cats but he did it. Those big battles of course are still to be won.
So Dave’s energy and voraciousness for life were apparent in everything he did to those of us who knew and loved him. Whether it was cooking, or gardening, or photography – ah the photography! If you haven’t obtained a copy of the calendar for 2024 he published, get one. It comprises superb photographs of landscapes from around the world. His late discovery of this passion for photography was inspired in part by his coming to live, so very happily, here in this area beneath Almscliffe Crag where we walked so often in our woolly hats… The proceeds from the calendar went towards Cancer Research.
Energy and voraciousness were perhaps no more strongly apparent than in his passion for sport – pretty much any sport, it must be said – but especially for football. As you heard, the poor devil was condemned to be a lifelong supporter of Sunderland football club – what a cruel fate, but he bore it stoically. But whether it was golf, tennis – whatever: he loved it. 7 marathons! I’ll never forget July 2018 when the final of the World Cup and the Wimbledon Final were on at exactly the same time. We overcame this by rigging up a computer screen beside the TV and watching the 2 simultaneously. This way, we always had something to shout at. Sport spoke to his intense competitiveness: it wasn’t enough to beat the opposition; it was best that they were crushed.
And on that point, in case a false picture of saintliness is emerging here, far from it. Dave could be curmudgeonly and irascible; grumpy and opinionated. But – here is the point – never, I think, towards those who were weaker or vulnerable. And so to a further facet: Dave was an extraordinary enabler. Amongst the many tributes that have poured in to Clare from across the world, a theme emerges. “He helped me become more”. “He made me believe in myself”. Dave knew about mentorship (he himself had some of the very best: Ken Robinson, David Hargreaves, Claus Moser all invested their precious time in him) – and so he gave back. There are people here today who have travelled for this tribute from across the country and from Denmark, Ireland, N Carolina. There are people joining us remotely from right across the world. Their presence is a tribute to that, and to the love that was felt for him. It’s why the image of a diamond is quite wrong of course: cold and hard. Dave was warmth and compassion personified. Compassion: Dave and Clare not only opened their home to Ukrainian refugees for a lengthy period (at some personal toll) but also organised a local network of support for Ukrainian families suffering the trauma of displacement.
Which brings me finally to love. Dave endured a lot of pain in his life: both physical and personal. But there was never any self-pity. He researched his illness with characteristic energy, drive and curiosity – not believing he should just leave it to others to tell him what might be. However I believe the crowning achievement of his life was the great love he shared with Clare, and if it should have been for longer than its 20 year span, then let there be gratitude for what there was.
And now as Dave’s body returns, as we all will, to stardust (our part in the great Mystery) I think that the only response that can help us, if anything can – in our loss and pain – is to focus relentlessly on the gratitude we should feel for having been touched by the remarkable life of this wonderful human being.
In May 2024, David Price died of cancer. David was a musician, a co-founder (with Paul McCartney, among others) of the Liverpool Institute of the Performing Arts, the creator of “Musical Futures”, which upended how music was taught in secondary schools across the UK, and the head of the follow-up, Learning Futures, which applied those insights across the curriculum.
We recently published David’s article, The Route To School Improvement is Hiding In Plain Sight: It’s Culture, Stupid
This is the eulogy that his friend and frequent collaborator Valerie Hannon read at his funeral. The British spelling and punctuation has been preserved.
Charged with the challenge and the honour of trying to capture the spectacular quality of David Price’s life, an image, not words, came to mind. It was that of a brilliant, multi-faceted diamond. Because David’s amazing life had so many wonderful dimensions – all of which were glittering reflections of his unique personality. He was a many-splendoured human being.
This part of the story takes up where Trevor’s left off. You heard how Dave’s first identity was that of musician – which he never lost of course. The Entertainer, the Piano Man. The world of education has Sharon Osborne to thank for prematurely sacking him from what would likely have been a successful recording career. But the joy of music-making never left him nor his capacity to transmit that joy to others (of which more later). A vivid memory for me is when we were working in Melbourne together, Dave putting together a scratch rock band to play a gig for the women’s choir (by this time very drunk) he had been working with there and indeed becoming – as Trevor remarked – the Human Juke Box. They yelled out the name of a song – and he played it. His knowledge of and deep understanding of so many musical forms was extraordinary – from Quincy Jones, to Sondheim to Joni Mitchell to – of course – the Beatles.
But his musical career gave way to an unexpected one in education. I am quite sure that Dave’s particular qualities emerged in part from his experience as an early school leaver and then subsequently as a mature student. He had empathy for those – oh so many – whom the education systems fail. What it takes, and what it means to come to learning late, and differently. So initially he blended his expertise in the arts with learning in alternative and different contexts – community arts, adult education and then becoming the first Director of Learning at the newly established Liverpool Institute for the Performing Arts, sponsored by Paul McCartney. I think this created the platform for what was – in my view – one of his most brilliant facets: that of learning designer.
On the basis of his own experience he designed and developed the seminal program called Musical Futures, which was supported over a number of years by the Paul Hamlyn Foundation. Musical Futures, entirely through his vision, established a mode of learning music that was truly inclusive; that didn’t require the usual formal approaches that put off so many kids, but which released the joy of music-making in groups as a gateway to other pathways. That Dave achieved lasting support for the work in an organisation better known for its support of opera, and led by Lord Claus Moser a formidable classical musician, is in itself a tribute to his powers of persuasion and the quality of his ideas. Rightly, Dave’s work was recognised nationally by the award of an OBE in 2008. He endured having the mick taken out of him for this, by rightly pointing out it was the work itself that was recognised, and that was important. That work lives on, here and elsewhere. But I will say here and repeat later: so much of Dave’s work was visionary and ahead of its time. And I am absolutely certain that his ideas will come to be recognised as such in time; and people will say – but of course!
To complete this focus on the facet of Dave’s life as a learning designer: Musical Futures spawned many other programs: Language Futures extended the idea of inclusivity and community assets into the space of language learning. These initiatives came together in the major program we ran (again sponsored by the Hamlyn Foundation) called Learning Futures, which helped teachers develop new pedagogies grounded in relevant, real-world learning. Next up came Learning Frontiers, an Australia-wide program, which we ran out of the Innovation Unit, to address the root causes of learner disengagement in secondary schooling. These are just samples of the many initiatives Dave was a part of. This facet of Dave’s identity – to call it the professional development of educators is somehow inadequate, because it changed people deeply – morphed in a number of directions. He and Clare together led study tours for educators to some of the most innovative schools in the world in the US. Together they established a powerful program of professional development in project-based learning, both here but primarily in Australia, that was immensely impactful. And I want to say here that, influential as his work as a thought leader was – to which I am coming – I am quite sure that there are thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of kids in schools whose learning lives are seriously richer and more meaningful because of the profound influence he had upon their teachers and schools leaders; giving them back their agency and with new tools to exercise it. Dave continued his ground-breaking work in a program for the Roma Education Foundation, on new approaches to learning for the under-served Roma people of central Europe, continuing until just a couple of weeks before his death. His contribution was inspirational and invaluable.
Thought leadership was another facet of Dave’s life that emerged relatively late. He published three important books – characteristically ignoring the conventional publishing routes and using all the newly available tools to bring his ideas to public attention. Open, and The Power of Us, set out new visions as to how learning could be democratised, inclusive, socially useful, engaging and liberating. His writing style was so unpretentious: colloquial, direct and really funny. He drew on some of the classical sources but the research underpinning these books was all fresh and set out with flair. He had a world-wide vision – nourished by his own love of travel. So he was happy to work and research – well, pretty much anywhere: the US, India, China, Kathmandu, South Africa, Brazil, all across Europe, and of course New Zealand and Australia We were working together in Melbourne when the pandemic hit, and we had to scrabble for flights to get home. Dave and Clare spent lockdown peacefully here in this lovely place.
In his research and development work another of his facets emerges – that of connector. Of people, not just ideas. Knowing Dave meant that your professional network was multiplied by a factor of 10 at least. And on this theme of connector, I don’t want to lose sight of a third book which Dave was responsible for: Education Forward. In 2017 Dave, in his role as activist, pulled together some 16 writers, thinkers, leaders in the field of education innovation and demanded that we write the chapters of what became Education Forward. He said; it’s time we became a proper movement for change, got smart and argued cohesively for the changes that kids need – we are failing them! It was like herding cats but he did it. Those big battles of course are still to be won.
So Dave’s energy and voraciousness for life were apparent in everything he did to those of us who knew and loved him. Whether it was cooking, or gardening, or photography – ah the photography! If you haven’t obtained a copy of the calendar for 2024 he published, get one. It comprises superb photographs of landscapes from around the world. His late discovery of this passion for photography was inspired in part by his coming to live, so very happily, here in this area beneath Almscliffe Crag where we walked so often in our woolly hats… The proceeds from the calendar went towards Cancer Research.
Energy and voraciousness were perhaps no more strongly apparent than in his passion for sport – pretty much any sport, it must be said – but especially for football. As you heard, the poor devil was condemned to be a lifelong supporter of Sunderland football club – what a cruel fate, but he bore it stoically. But whether it was golf, tennis – whatever: he loved it. 7 marathons! I’ll never forget July 2018 when the final of the World Cup and the Wimbledon Final were on at exactly the same time. We overcame this by rigging up a computer screen beside the TV and watching the 2 simultaneously. This way, we always had something to shout at. Sport spoke to his intense competitiveness: it wasn’t enough to beat the opposition; it was best that they were crushed.
And on that point, in case a false picture of saintliness is emerging here, far from it. Dave could be curmudgeonly and irascible; grumpy and opinionated. But – here is the point – never, I think, towards those who were weaker or vulnerable. And so to a further facet: Dave was an extraordinary enabler. Amongst the many tributes that have poured in to Clare from across the world, a theme emerges. “He helped me become more”. “He made me believe in myself”. Dave knew about mentorship (he himself had some of the very best: Ken Robinson, David Hargreaves, Claus Moser all invested their precious time in him) – and so he gave back. There are people here today who have travelled for this tribute from across the country and from Denmark, Ireland, N Carolina. There are people joining us remotely from right across the world. Their presence is a tribute to that, and to the love that was felt for him. It’s why the image of a diamond is quite wrong of course: cold and hard. Dave was warmth and compassion personified. Compassion: Dave and Clare not only opened their home to Ukrainian refugees for a lengthy period (at some personal toll) but also organised a local network of support for Ukrainian families suffering the trauma of displacement.
Which brings me finally to love. Dave endured a lot of pain in his life: both physical and personal. But there was never any self-pity. He researched his illness with characteristic energy, drive and curiosity – not believing he should just leave it to others to tell him what might be. However I believe the crowning achievement of his life was the great love he shared with Clare, and if it should have been for longer than its 20 year span, then let there be gratitude for what there was.
And now as Dave’s body returns, as we all will, to stardust (our part in the great Mystery) I think that the only response that can help us, if anything can – in our loss and pain – is to focus relentlessly on the gratitude we should feel for having been touched by the remarkable life of this wonderful human being.
