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In the summer 1938, as I was on my way to London for the 16th ISCM festival, a cable arrived in Cairo, where I then lived. It was from the conductor Hermann Scherchen and it said: ‘My Chinese daughter born yesterday. Come to Lausanne to see her.’ So I did, and this was the first of many encounters. I remember her mother, the composer Hsiao Shu-sien, singing her to sleep with Chinese lullabies.