Charles Dibdin at the 41st Annual Conference on Music in 18th-Century Britain

The Foundling Museum, Brunswick Square, London (28th November 2025)

I spent 28th November 2025 at the 41st Annual Conference on Music in 18th-Century Britain at the Foundling Museum, and it turned out to be one of the most unexpectedly delightful academic days I’ve had in a while. Even before I arrived, I had the creeping sense that I was sneaking into the wrong century. Most of my research lives solidly in the 19th century, so stepping into a room full of people who can casually reference obscure 18th-century manuscripts before their morning coffee made me feel a bit like a temporal interloper.

My panel slot only deepened this sense of being slightly out of joint. I was speaking about Charles Dibdin’s sailors and maritime song - correct period, yes, but still obscurely maritime and unlikely to be especially relevant to anything anyone else was studying. And then, of course, technology decided to make things interesting. My audio and video refused to cooperate, leaving me standing in front of the frighteningly knowledgeable audience with no musical examples. I made a joking offer: “I suppose I could sing them instead". The audience took this entirely at face value. So there I was, singing Reuben Ranzo and Pull Down Below to illustrate different shanty types. Somehow, it went down rather well, though I’m fairly certain that was due to the audience’s good humour rather than any hidden vocal brilliance on my part.

The papers throughout the day were excellent, and in some cases downright inspiring. Alan Howard’s work on female composers of grand-piano sonatas from 1780–1810 was a standout for me, shedding light on figures who deserve far more attention. Another favourite was a paper by Caroline Suter, whose talk about Fougeroux managed to be both scholarly and genuinely funny, which is not an easy combination to pull off. The collective expertise in the room was a little intimidating, but in the best, most energising way.

Since the conference was at the Foundling Museum, I couldn’t resist taking advantage of being in Bloomsbury. I slipped away for a quick visit to the Charles Dickens Museum. As a longstanding Dickens fan (Oliver Twist is a personal favourite), it felt like a small literary pilgrimage. The house was looking wonderfully festive, with Christmas decorations and references to A Christmas Carol already in place. The effect was cosy, atmospheric, and very Dickensian - the perfect antidote to a long day of academic intensity.

In the spirit of seasonal indulgence, I treated myself to a mince pie and mulled wine from Honey & Co. before wandering into Brunswick Square and sitting beneath some very old trees. It was the kind of simple, quietly contented moment that anchors a busy day. All in all, the conference was a delightful mixture of scholarly rigour, unexpected performance and a touch of London winter magic. I may have arrived feeling like a 19th-century gatecrasher, but I left thoroughly glad to have been part of it.