Walking down a side street in Edinburgh’s Old Town, just off the iconic Royal Mile, you find yourself doing a double-take at the modern glass and metal top of a building. Your eye is led from an unusual shape curving out from the rest of the tenements down to a tapering metal sign where you can just make out the words Music Museum. Lo and behold, you have stumbled on St Cecilia’s Hall: Concert Room and Music Museum.

Commissioned by the Edinburgh Music Society and designed by Robert Mylne in 1763, this is Scotland’s oldest purpose-built concert hall. But the last concert prior to the purchase of the space in 1959 by the University of Edinburgh was in 1798 and since then it has been a school, a Masonic lodge and a dance hall. In May 2017, the building opened its doors once again to the public for the purpose it was built for, this time complemented by an added music museum.

The venue combines, for the first time, the wind instruments from the Reid School of Music and the Russell and Mirrey collections of early keyboard devices. This world-class assemblage of musical instruments is officially Recognised as a Collection of National Significance by the Scottish government.

The old caretaker’s flat has made way for a double-height entrance with a beautifully decorated metal facade. This takes you into a bright, high-ceilinged reception area – but standing there it isn’t obvious what you will find as you explore the space. Navigating the museum is easy though and, however you access it, you don’t miss the story.

The collection has been installed over two floors and across four rooms. Every room has been made into a separate space and the traditional doorways themselves are a feature, leading visitors to the displays beyond. Each room has a contrasting but complementary layout, using different interpretation techniques to tell the story of the instruments.

Playing to the gallery

I walked around the ground floor first and, looking up towards the ceiling and along the corridor, you find the pattern from the front of the building echoed, with a clever use of metal tying the two spaces together architecturally. There is also a small conservation studio – the conservator was in the middle of moving in when I visited. The idea of seeing the ongoing story of the instruments helps give context to the museum as part of a working collection at the heart of music within the university and its research.

An elegant hallway lined with glass cabinets sets the tone of the displays, detailing information about the funder of the collection, John Donaldson, and some of the instruments that helped form the foundation of the objects.

The Wolfson gallery has a stunning display of wind instruments, which are carefully and creatively presented, and it is hard to know where to look first. Below the glass-fronted cases are a number of drawers, some of which reveal hidden treasures such as an array of wind instrument mouthpieces or a tiny violin. But there are spaces that feel as though they should contain interpretation – for example, drawers that open but are empty and others that don’t open at all – which gave a sense of things being incomplete.

Below or alongside each case is the traditional numbering and object name system, which lets you know what each piece is and the year it was made but little else. As a non-musical person with an interest sparked by the wonderful displays, I wanted to know more. On one wall, a single panel gives brief information that explains the room and shows the development of instruments, but I wanted more detail about what the changes were and how and why they came about.
 
Across the hall on the ground floor is the Leigh gallery, which has a different feel. There is no crowd of objects, instead there is a piano standing proudly in the centre of the room looking majestic while cases attached to the walls surround it.

This display of instruments follow the theme of being “played together”, showing groups of instruments from a renaissance ensemble and those used in current popular music, to rarer local instruments. The displays here hint at how the instruments would be played. The interpretation was informative about each type of instrument and their place within the group, and overall the display felt exciting.

No sounds of music

Upstairs is the 18th-century Sypert Concert Room, which is oval-shaped and takes pride of place at the centre of the building. It looks today as it did when it was originally designed and is now being used as a concert room again. It would have been interesting to see some pictures and information about the concerts that used to be held there though.

Regular concerts are held in the concert room, but on a daily museum visit there does not appear to be any opportunity to hear the sounds that would bring these instruments to life. The museum’s website reads: “Immersed in the sounds of instruments […] so no two visits will be the same”. I was excited about this idea and would have loved to hear sample music from one or two of these rare instruments during my visit or been able to plan a visit knowing that instruments would be being played in the galleries at some point during the day.

The two galleries upstairs hold the Russell and Mirrey collections of early keyboard instruments. This collection of international importance consists of 50 musical objects ranging from the 16th to the 19th century. The keyboards on open display create natural corridors between them, encouraging you to spend time darting from one side to the other, following their story.

I liked that the interpretation explored the social history surrounding the playing of the instruments. But again, as someone who does not play a musical instrument, I found that the museum assumed my base knowledge of music was better than it actually is. I enjoyed the way that some of it was challenging, but I wonder if others like me without a musical background might want more explanation to fully appreciate and understand the history.

The silhouettes used in design panels throughout the building are taken from the shape of the harpsichord and help tie the whole space together, as does the decorative design inspired by the painted interior of one of these instruments. My only wish was that this particularly beautiful and historic keyboard had been placed on a lower pedestal so it could have been viewed more easily.

Overall, I enjoyed my visit and have recommended the museum to others. But part of me wishes I’d been able to learn and understand more about these handsome instruments and heard some of those forgotten sounds. The display, lighting and curation of the items are excellent, the mounts disappearing as you explore the amazing instruments. The restoration of the building and development of the museum space are magnificent and a pleasure to walk around. Overall, it is a commendable venue, with just a few aspects that could be improved to enhance the visitor experience.

Beccy Angus is the learning and outreach officer at Rosslyn Chapel Trust, Midlothian
Project data
Cost £6.5m
Main funders Heritage Lottery Fund; Edinburgh World Heritage; The Wolfson Foundation
Architect PagePark
Main contractor Interserve
Design David Narro; Harley Haddow; New Acoustics; Studio SP;
Thomson Bethune
Museum contractors Constantine; Goetze & Gwynn; Jura Consultants;
Lex Burnhams; Nederman; Plowden & Smith; Strategic Content;
Studio Arc
Admission Free