I recently had the privilege of witnessing the beginning of something genuinely special. A new partnership between the BSO and Care South has just begun: a year-long programme focused on shared music-making, creativity, and connection at Marjorie House, a beautiful setting overlooking Poole Harbour.
But for me, this first session wasn’t really about the building or even the view. It was about people. Two BSO musicians. A room of residents. Staff who know them well-their routines, their preferences, their stories. And now, live music becoming an increasingly present part of that shared space. There was no stage and no formal audience. Instead, everything was about taking part.
The morning began with staff, who were invited to experience the session for themselves. Hugh led gently on the accordion, with Judith alongside him on cello. A simple welcome song, “Hello, hello, hello…” got things started. At first there was a little hesitation, but that quickly gave way to smiles, then full participation. By the end, there was laughter and even a small round of applause.
It didn’t take long for personalities to shine through.
During My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean, the hand movements on every “B” brought plenty of amusement. People glanced at each other, laughing as they tried to keep up. There was a clear sense of a team that knew each other well-comfortable, good-humoured, and willing to give things a go.
Soon, instruments were being passed around – tambourines, bells, a glockenspiel. Patrick, the chef, still in his whites and hat, picked up a set of bells, listening carefully for the right moment to join in. Jake focused intently on the glockenspiel, working out the notes to Do-Re-Mi. Michelle stepped forward to count everyone in, naturally taking on the role of conductor.
When the batons came out, the energy lifted again. Anna conducted with enthusiasm and clarity, fully embracing the moment. Beccy took her turn, guiding Judith’s cello with a mix of confidence and laughter, clearly enjoying being in charge, even if just for a few minutes. It was light-hearted, but it also had purpose. Hugh spoke about the importance of listening – not just to the music, but to each other – and that message really landed.
When Judith played Song Without Words, the room noticeably settled. Afterwards, people spoke about feeling calm, reflective, even a little nostalgic. It was a quieter moment, but just as powerful.
Then the residents joined. They came in with different energy levels, different experiences of music, and different ways of engaging. Some were physically frail, their movements small and careful. Some sat and listened, while watching closely. Others joined in straight away-singing, clapping, engaging with confidence. What struck me was how naturally the session adapted to all of this. One resident tapped gently along from their chair. Another followed every word of Oh When the Saints. Staff sat alongside residents, encouraging them, joining in, and sharing the experience rather than directing it.
When the room split into two groups, the energy built again. Laughter carried across the space. She’ll Be Coming Round the Mountain became wonderfully personal, with names woven into the lyrics –Wendy on tambourine, others joining in with bells or clapping. Everyone seemed to find their own way into it.
Then came another quieter moment. Judith played an extract from The Swan. Afterwards, one resident shared what it suggested – a vivid image of a lover climbing stairs, opening a window, and lighting a candle. It was unexpected, thoughtful, and everyone listened with real attention.
By the end of the session, there was no final performance or polished piece, but something meaningful had clearly taken place. The atmosphere had shifted.
People had connected in different ways – through laughter, through memory, through simply being present. I also noticed how much the staff picked up on small changes, small moments of engagement that might not normally happen in the rhythm of the day. For me, this is where music shows its real value.
For some, it’s about familiarity and shared songs. For others, it’s more sensory – a feeling, a rhythm, a moment of calm or focus. And for many, it’s simply the chance to take part in something different.
Over the coming months, this partnership will continue to grow, building on what has started here. This first session set a clear tone: music that is inclusive, flexible, and shared. And perhaps that’s its real strength. Not in grand gestures, but in these small, human moments where people feel involved, connected, and part of something, even for a short time, which has left some happy, lasting memories.
Read more about our partnership with Marjorie House and Care South here.