My old high school English teacher took it upon herself, for reasons unknown to me, to give me extra reading assignments. I was a book geek, and so was always glad to get suggestions of writers to read, and she did thus start me on a lifelong love of Yeats and some of Henry James‘ stories that I would never have come across otherwise.
She also, for reasons also unknown to me but compatible with the previous unknown reasons, tried to change my taste in music from Rock to Classical. Rock, she seemed to reason, was incompatible with a cultured mind, which I was otherwise gaining. Classical music is something I can take or leave. However, one recording she lent me (you had to actually lend someone a piece of vinyl encased in cardboard, back then, and hope they had an adequate machine with a needle to play it on) has stuck with me throughout the years. It is Rudolf Serkin‘s rendition of Beethoven’s Fifth Piano Concerto: