Back in 2010, impressed by the incredible talent of the deaf percussionist Evelyn Glennie, we introduced her in our website "We Hear You" with the article "Music for non-hearing people - the Art of Listening to Yourself". In 2013, we published the biographical article "Evelyn Glennie - The Percussions and The Silence". In our infinitely pleasant epistolary conversation now, Evelyn reveals interesting details about her childhood, about the challenges of silence, her passion for percussion instruments and about music in the conditions of artificial intelligence-dictated technologies.
Dear Evelyn, it is our great pleasure to have you as a guest on the specialized website "We hear you", the largest online media in Bulgaria for people with different types of hearing loss. Bulgarian readers know too little bit about your world, so let's open the curtain to it for them. When did your encounter with the Silence happen and what were your first feelings related to hearing loss?
I began losing my hearing from the age of 8 due to nerve deterioration. I had no idea I was becoming deaf at that age because the deterioration was gradual. I started playing the piano from the age of 8 and clarinet from the age of 10. However, my parents asked for me to stop playing the clarinet as they wondered whether the physical pressure in my head in playing the notes may be contributing to my hearing loss. However, I was eager to find something to replace the clarinet and to go alongside my piano playing. At this time, I was reliant on hearing aids but I had a profound feeling towards music and felt that I was quite a sensitive player.
I was introduced to percussion from the age of 12. I was not exposed to the deaf community at this time because I was brought up in a very rural part of the north-east of Scotland. There was one other boy at secondary school who was deaf, and there was a visiting peripatetic teacher for the deaf whom I and the boy saw each week. I remained in an all-inclusive school system, not a school for the deaf, which was absolutely essential. My whole childhood was aural, and so I never learned British sign language.
What challenges did you face as a hard-of-hearing child?
The main challenges were to do with group situations. I went to a tiny country primary school with only about 37 pupils in the entire school and 2 teachers. Thankfully, every pupil in the school was given an annual hearing test which was how my hearing loss was first detected. This alerted the teachers and my family. I found that I was beginning to struggle in group situations such as in reading classes or out in the playing field.
I was struggling to pick out voices. This meant I was falling behind with school work. By the time I went to a much bigger secondary school at the age of 12, I was already wearing hearing aids but I wanted to hide them and not tell anyone of my deafness. This became almost impossible because I struggled to hear the teachers in the classrooms which were much bigger than at the tiny primary school. I was fitted with a Phonic Ear – a device worn by myself and the teacher – which helped me detect more easily what the teacher was saying when moving around the room. However, it was exhausting, and I found myself spending more time on my own. This was fine and suited me quite well because I was used to being on my own practicing and playing the piano.
Some people in the Silence have more developed sensors and sensations. They seem to be here to teach this noisy world of listening and hearing, even though they lack hearing. Would you change any part of your life if you could start over?
For many deaf people like myself, listening has never been about sound. It is about presence and about full-body attention, eye contact, gesture, facial expression, and the rhythm of silence. We live in a world where communication is intentional, where understanding requires focus, not just passive hearing. In that way, we can teach hearing people that true listening is active, engaged, and deeply human.
Would I change any part of my life? No. My deafness is not a flaw – it is a form of perception, a different frequency of connection. It has shaped how I move through the world, how I relate to others, and how I experience depth in ways many overlook. I don't need to hear sound to understand people - I just need them to be willing to truly listen.
Where did your interest in music come from and are there other musicians in your family? Was your lack of hearing the reason you chose percussion instead strings or brass instruments?
It was very normal for many farm houses in Scotland to have upright pianos because people would play Scottish traditional music in a social setting. Traditional dancing and poetry reading in our native tongue was normal for children to participate in at school and in local festivals. As I mentioned earlier, I attended a tiny country primary school with a maximum of 37 pupils. Each Friday the whole school had a general music lesson. By the time I left that school, all pupils could read music. I also liked to improvise on the piano and compose little pieces.
My parents were farmers but were very encouraging towards my interest in music. My 2 older brothers were also given the same opportunities but did not have such a flair for making music. When I went to the larger secondary school, the headmaster and staff members were very keen to make sure that all children had the opportunity to participate in music. There was a very good pool of peripatetic instrumental teachers, including a teacher for percussion. Choosing percussion had nothing to do with my deafness. I simply saw the school orchestra perform during a school assembly to new pupils, and I was in awe. I wanted to be part of that and I felt drawn towards the percussion section due to the variety of instruments.
Is it correct to say that in your opinion feeling the rhythm and music is at the heart of mastery more than hearing them with the naked ear?
Music is not just something you hear with the naked ear. It is something you feel internally and physically. Rhythm lives in the body before it lives in the ear. As a deaf person, I have learned that true musical mastery comes from sensing its energy, its pulse, its emotional texture, not just decoding sound. Feeling the vibrations, watching movement, sensing shifts in mood and tempo - this is where the soul of music lives. So yes, I believe mastery isn't measured by how well you hear every note, but by how deeply you connect with the intention behind it. In that way, deaf artists and listeners offer a powerful reminder: you don't need ears to hear what really matters.
You are an outstanding percussionist, the first deaf woman admitted to the Royal Academy of Music and an inspiration to many musicians. What advice do you have for young people with hearing loss who want to get into music or follow your example with the percussion?
Don't wait for permission!. The world may try to define music through ears alone, but you have the power to redefine it through experience and innovation. Music is not limited to sound - it is movement, vibration, emotion, and expression. Deaf people already know how to feel what others often only hear. Also, trust your body. and your instincts. Most importantly, surround yourself with people who see your potential, not your limits. A deaf person's path may not look like someone else's but that is your strength. You are not here to fit into the industry as it is. – you are here to expand it, not because you imitate what others do, but because you bring something unique to you.
Very strong words, and very true! What provoked you to collect musical instruments from all over the world? Are there any instruments from Bulgarian folklore in your collection – Rhodope bagpipe, kaval flute, gadulka, tambura, tapan drum?
What drew me to collect musical instruments from around the world was curiosity - curiosity about how different cultures feel music, express rhythm, and connect sound to identity. Each instrument tells a story, not just through how it sounds, but through how it is made, played, and felt. Collecting them is my way of listening to the world. The Evelyn Glennie Collection now has over 3 800 instruments along with many artefacts such as photographs, printed interviews, videos, correspondence, costumes, awards, art work, music scores and much more. Unfortunately, I do not yet have an instrument from Bulgaria!
You said a time ago that you don't use sign language because it's not applicable in your work. And yet, is sign language present in your personal life in some form?
For me, language, whether signed or spoken, is deeply personal. I have not used British Sign Language until now because my journey through deafness has followed a more aural and different path. Communication has taken many forms in my life: lip-reading, gesture, written words, technology, even rhythm and movement. Each one has shaped how I connect with the world. Learning BSL now isn't about correcting a gap but about expanding my expression. We all arrive at language in our own time, and for our own reasons. For me, it' is not just about using a specific sign language - it's about finding the tools that allow me to be fully seen and heard, in my own way.
Artificial intelligence is increasingly entering people's lives. How do you think it can benefit Deaf, hard-of-hearing and late-deafened people? Is this technology applicable in your field of music?
AI has the potential to be a powerful ally for Deaf, hard of hearing, and late-deafened people - not as a replacement for our experiences, but as a bridge between different ways of perceiving the world. From real-time captioning and sign language recognition to haptic feedback systems and visual sound analysis, AI is beginning to translate sound into other sensory languages - ones that we can access and understand. In music, this is especially exciting. AI can help visualize rhythm, isolate instruments, track vibrations, and even compose based on emotional or physical inputs rather than just auditory ones. It opens doors for us to create, perform, and engage with music not just as listeners, but as innovators. To me, AI in music isn't about making us "hear" like others do. It is about reimagining what music is, and in that space, deaf creatives have so much to offer.
What does Evelyn Glennie devoted her time doing when she's not doing music?
My interests away from music are walking, cycling, reading, gardening, going to antique fairs and metal detecting. All of these activities can be done alone or with others. The more I can be outside, the better. After all, I am a framer's daughter and love to be in the country-side!
What would you wish to the unhearing people in Bulgaria?
You are not on the outside looking in - you are part of a global movement redefining what it means to communicate, to express, and to be heard. Deafness is not a limitation; it is a different way of experiencing the world which is rich with its own languages, cultures, and powers of perception... Your identity is not something to hide or overcome. It's something to own. Your hands, your eyes, your bodies - they carry wisdom that the hearing world is only beginning to understand. Whether through Bulgarian Sign Language, art, education, or music, you have something deeply valuable to share. Never let anyone convince you that silence is emptiness! In silence, there is clarity. In Deafness, there is strength. In unity, across borders, languages, and experiences - there is power.
We Hear You Association expresses sincere gratitude to Dame Evelyn Glennie for her time and attention to the questions I asked her. We also express our gratitude to two of the ladies from her team - Emma Brown (PR Manager) and Rae Maynard (Financial Manager), for their cooperation and the photos provided.
An Interview by Christina Tchoparova
Translation into BG: Christina Tchoparova
Cover image: Jane Barlow
Photos Courtesy of:
The Alliance NCAC "We Hear You" is the holder of publishing rights on this article and photos