The prison piano project striking a chord: ‘Music expresses how much we all have in common’
Award-winning pianist Clare Hammond and composer Michael Betteridge are giving prisoners the opportunity to compose piano pieces that reflect their experiences
by: Brontë Schiltz
24 Jul 2025
Key players: Michael Betteridge and Claire Hammond
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Writer and actor AG Smith of theatre company Weeping Bank Library has long been bringing writers into prisons to talk to and tutor incarcerated people. But now, through an innovative co-creation project led by award-winning pianist Clare Hammond and composer Michael Betteridge across four workshops in May, the tables have turned: rather than bringing art into prisons from the outside, prisoners at HMP Featherstone and HMP Oakwood have composed solo piano pieces evoking their experiences of incarceration for performance across the UK.
“For the past seven years or so, I’ve been giving piano recitals in prisons across the South West and in the Midlands, and one of the things I enjoyed most about the concerts that I gave was these Q&A sessions at the end,” says Hammond.
“When I had a chance to speak to the prisoners, I really learned about their lives and learned about how the music was impacting them, and that was the most interesting part for me.
“I thought it would be interesting to try and develop a project that was more explicitly interactive, so rather than me just going and performing and speaking, it was much more of a two-way process.”
She contacted Betteridge, who has previously undertaken co-creation projects with people living with dementia, people experiencing homelessness and members of the LGBTQ+ community, among others. He was quick to agree. “I am really passionate about the power of classical music, and believe really strongly that everyone should have access and opportunities to engage in classical music,” he says.
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The idea of bringing art from prisons into the public sphere challenges the notion of incarceration as a space of exclusion. But, Hammond says, “When I was thinking about how this project might work, I wasn’t thinking of it in explicitly political terms. It was more about creating bridges between people and between communities. People in prisons are so isolated, and people outside it, with no experience of the criminal justice system, have no idea what life is like there.
“There are so many subtle things that are very different. For example, a prisoner was talking the other day about how they’re not allowed glass in the prison, so they don’t have mirrors, and they can’t really see their reflection clearly. And if you’ve been in prison for a while, you might not see how you’ve aged, and the idea of coming out after 10 years and seeing such a transformation – that’s quite a profound difference in your experience.
“There’s so much that we have in common – we have far more in common than what differentiates us from each other. And music is a way of expressing that.”
There is a common understanding, Smith says, “that when you send somebody to prison, you’re taking away their freedom. But you don’t realise what else you’re taking away from people’s lives. You know, there is no choice in a prison. It’s almost like returning to an extremely strict school. You’re told exactly what time everyone’s getting up. You’re told exactly what you’re going to be doing for the day, every single day that you’re there. And I think that’s a really difficult concept to get your head around – that your entire life, for however long or short your sentence may be, is completely ruled by the regime.
“But what prisoners often miss the most is the calmness that can exist in everyday life that we take for granted. Even in a very busy household or in the midst of the chaos of normal life, we all have the freedom to step out of that, whether that’s to another room in the house, the garden, the street, whatever it is. In prison, you don’t have that option, so it’s noisy all the time.”
This influenced the compositions. “Very often, when they were trying to put the piece of music together, they were thinking about the sounds that they hear around the prison all the time,” Smith says. “Every day, there is a constant soundtrack, and an uncomfortable soundtrack – the alarm bells, the radios, the doors slamming, the shouting.”
For Betteridge, seeing the friendships that the project forged and witnessing what music “can do for communities, people’s wellbeing and people’s connectedness to one another is probably the most valuable thing. That’s why we engage in music. It’s why we go to concerts and why we make music with each other. It’s about that connection.”
The project also provided a vital space for expression and emotional processing. “We talk about classical music being relaxing or calming the mood down, and it can do,” says Hammond. “But I think it’s really, really important in the context of this project to remember that it helps us to access a massive range of emotions, and it does so in a way that avoids the use of words, and that can be very profound and therapeutic.”
“This project is without doubt the most extraordinary and uplifting piece I have ever had the privilege to be a tiny part of in 18 years of prison work,” says Smith.
Clare Hammond will perform the compositions across the UK from September 2025 to June 2026.
