It's even tougher if you are deaf. Roger Crombie meets the remarkable Evelyn Glennie.

Evelyn Glennie, the 27-year-old Scottish solo percussionist, who will be making three appearances at the 1993 Bermuda Festival, had to overcome two major obstacles to achieve her musical ambitions. The more formidable barrier was the lack of any tradition in Great Britain for solo percussion recitals in "respectable'' music, a field in which change of any kid is anathema.

That she brushed history aside without a second thought is fair testimony to her single-minded devotion to percussion in all its forms. Mention of percussion summons images of kettle drums and a variety of intermittent noise-makers. Glennie quickly points out that "there are more than 600 instruments in the family, many of which are melodic'', and that "the sound of drums is the oldest musical form of all.'' The easier hurdle the beautiful but diminutive highlander had to jump was a problem which might at first appear insurmountable: the sound barrier. By her mid-teens, the hearing loss which had set in when she was only a child had deteriorated to the point of leaving her profoundly deaf. You'd never know it if you witnessed one of her electrifying and emotional stage performances, for which she has won rave reviews from every authority in the musical firmament - including those who at first dismissed as "ridiculous'' the notion of a deaf woman playing tuned instruments.

And you'd never know it if you met her at her new house just a mile or two down the road from the home of Britain's Prime Minister John Major in Huntingdon, Cambridgeshire. Glennie's disability does not crop up in conversation, except to explain, "I can't listen to a lot of music, you know, while I'm doing the laundry or what have you. I have to read it, which takes time.'' Her skill at lip-reading makes conversation exactly as easy as it is with those who can hear - more so, perhaps, in the case of an interviewer who mumbles. She has never learned to sign, as "I happen to find lip-reading quite easy.'' Glennie has perfect pitch. This enables her to "hear a note in my head, and place it in relation to other notes.'' She points out that "actually playing an instrument is a mechanical process. You don't need ears to do it; it's mainly a question of practice.'' Sounds work their way to her by a variety of routes. "I can tell the quality of a note'', she explains, "by what I feel through my hands and my feet.'' Glennie was born in Aberdeen in 1965, and grew up on a farm in the northeast of Scotland. "People are often astonished'', she says with a smile, "when I tell them that I had a very ordinary childhood.'' She recalls a day when, at 10, she went to a local talent show and saw a young girl playing a musical instrument she was unfamiliar with. "I didn't realise a xylophone could make such expressive music'', she says. "The girl was brilliant, just amazing. I was quite sure then that this was what I wanted to do.'' With what she repeatedly refers to as "the Glennie determination'', she has gone on to do it pretty much ever since. By the age of 12, she was a regular member of her school's percussion group. The range of music written specifically for percussive instruments is limited, so as an already accomplished pianist, she began to adapt pieces written for other instruments to play on tuned percussion. Encouraged by her teachers, the prodigy found herself increasingly caught up in the study of music, winning awards more or less every time she entered a competition.

At 17, she passed the exams to enrol in the Royal Academy of Music in London for a three-year programme leading to a Graduate Honours degree. The fairytale nature of Glennie's life was confirmed when Princess Diana was on hand to bestow upon her the coveted Queen's Commendation Award at the school's graduation ceremony.

"It was a pivotal moment in my life'', Glennie remembers. "It was `Goodbye to Evelyn Glennie, music student; hello to Evelyn Glennie, professional musician', as my Academy professor put it.'' Even before leaving University, Glennie had made her mark outside the walls of academia, winning the prestigious Shell ondon Symphony Orchestra percussion scholarship for 1984.

"About ten days later'', she explains with a shrug, "I received a telegram of congratulations from someone called Charles. Not knowing who that might be, I laid it to one side and thought no more of it. Later, I showed it to my flat-mate to see if she could think who it was. She looked at it, and was speechless with excitement ... it was a telegram from Prince Charles, and I hadn't even realised!'' With a typical combination of hard work and the luck which often attends it, Glennie foundemployment in the notoriously fickle world of music relatively easy to come by. She played 120 concerts all over the world in 1992, together with teaching, Master Classes and composing. "I'd like to keep it down to 90 concerts a year, or 100'', she says, "to allow me the time to pursue my other musical interests.'' One project keeping her busy is the construction of a recording studio next door to the house she moved into just six weeks ago.

"A frown crosses her otherwise sunny features as she adds that a better way to gain more time would be to cut down on the paperwork. I suppose that's the one aspect of being a professional musician which I'd completely underestimated. Even with three agents, I still seem to spend 70 percent of my time on what, frankly, are usually just tedious details.'' Commercial realities have no place in the world of fairy tales.

Glennie promises a varied repertoire for her solo Festival appearances at City Hall (February 2 and 5), featuring music from as far afield as Brazil, Iceland, and Japan. She is also appearing with the English Chamber Orchestra on February 4. She will bring with her an accompanist, and her marimba, one of only two such instruments of concert quality in Britain, and perhaps her favourite percussion instrument.

She confides that, although setting up her equipment and rehearsing will take up most of her time on the Island, she and her fiance, a tuba player, who will be tying the knot next August, hope to squeeze in a couple of days to explore.

"I'd like to find out about the local music scene'', she says. "I envisage Bermuda, which I haven't been lucky enough to visit before, as very bright and jolly.'' Evelyn Glennie: "Playing an instrument is a mechanical process. You don't need ears to do it.'' RG MAGAZINE FEBRUARY 1993