Dim Sum with Martin Cullingford
We welcome Martin Cullingford as our next guest of The Riff Questionnaire, ahead of the Gramophone Awards Ceremony.
 | By Lucy Cheung 26 September 2026 |
The Gramophone Awards will be presented in London on 7 October. Yesterday, in the midst of the Mid-Autumn Festival, I went out for a dim sum lunch with Martin Cullingford, Editor and Publisher of Gramophone.
Over three hours of savouring Yunnan pu’er tea, with Har Gau, Siu Mai and Beef Ho Fun arriving at the table and our chopsticks moving between dishes, we talked about all things Gramophone Awards, but our conversation ranged far beyond classical music — wandering freely through life, travel, and Martin’s long-standing fascination with shoegaze.
More from our conversation will be published in stages before and after the Awards. The podcast we recorded together, will also be released around the same time.
In the spirit of the festival — may we all share the same moon, wherever we are — here’s a light-hearted Riff Questionnaire with Martin to begin.
What is your idea of perfect listening?
A quiet acoustic environment, great sound, and limitless time ahead of you — so that you can focus without worrying about anything else.
The musician you would most like to have dinner with?
Bach.
It seems such an obvious choice, but it would be absolutely fascinating to have dinner with him. He wrote some of the most profound music we know, yet he did so from the perspective of someone with a focused job in a town, looking after a church choir and its liturgical seasons, and his family. Yet he left us music that continues to transform our lives four centuries later.
The sound you never get tired of?
The sound of water running over stones in a mountain river. There are all these extraordinary rhythms, patterns and random elements in it. It’s also a reminder that we’re just a tiny part of an extraordinary natural environment.
The musical quality you admire most in a performer?
Sincerity.
The quality you admire most in a music critic?
Generosity.
What music makes you feel warm, and which piece would you turn to on a heatwave day?
If I were sitting there shivering, I’d probably reach for something like Ginastera, Albéniz or Villa-Lobos — music written in much hotter climates.
But if I’m actually very hot, I’d probably go for something Nordic, like Rautavaara, and be reminded of cold Finnish winters. Or Britten’s Sea Interludes, and remember the impact of the North Sea on a stormy day. I grew up by the North Sea, in Benjamin Britten’s birthplace.
What was the most memorable live performance you heard this year?
I think it might be the Jupiter Ensemble at Wigmore Hall. They’re an extraordinary ensemble, but what made it particularly memorable was that the performance had to be delayed because one of the musicians wasn’t well. They talked and improvised while they waited, and then played.
At the end, they divided up the hall and got the audience to sing. It’s the only time I’ve ever got to sing at Wigmore Hall. There was something wonderfully vital about the music-making — the audience actually became part of it.
The recording you would give to someone who says they don’t like classical music?
I’d probably reach for something with immediate melodic and emotional appeal. I’d give them a recording of Chopin’s Nocturnes. There’s something beautiful in them that would speak to people, and there’s nothing there that’s likely to alienate them.
If I had to choose a specific recording, I’d go for Stephen Hough’s. I’d give it to them in the sincere hope that it might unlock an extraordinary journey ahead.
If you could keep just one thing from the Gramophone archive, what would it be?
A plaster statue of Nipper the dog from an old HMV sculpture. It’s become a bit of a Gramophone mascot. It’s my hat stand, actually. And it was rescued from a skip. I’m not going to keep it, though. One day, when I leave Gramophone, I’ll hand it on to whoever succeeds me.
What’s your musical guilty pleasure?
I don’t think anyone should feel guilty about listening to any music.
But if I had to choose, probably shoegaze — My Bloody Valentine and Slowdive. I’m fascinated by the way those early shoegaze bands explored what sound itself could be, using feedback, pedals, loops and backwards recording to push the possibilities of the studio.
And when I go running, I tend to listen to 90s indie. I tried running to classical music, but it doesn’t work. The Stone Roses get me through a 10K at a good pace.
| Writer |
Comments