THE BRITS OPEN THE DOOR FOR THE AMERICAN BOY

The Brits are a British party. They have, historically, been generous to American acts in the International categories, and less generous to Americans who show up expecting to be handed something. On Wednesday night the ceremony handed its International Male Solo Artist trophy to a thirteen-year-old classical pianist from Loudoun County, Virginia, who did not, per his own account, know, going in, that he was in the category. The room applauded him for a very long time. The room, per our people in the balcony, seemed almost relieved.

LUCA STARR is, per the O2's own count, the youngest International Male Solo Artist winner in the ceremony's history. He beat, per the shortlist, a Grammy-nominated pop vocalist, an established folk-rock veteran, and two artists who had, in the twelve months prior, played the O2 arena. He was not present at the shortlist announcement in January. He was, on Wednesday night, present in the fourteenth row, in a black suit two sizes too big for him, next to his sister, Amara, and his mother, June, both of whom cried when his name was called.

“Britain has been very good to the piano. It has kept a lot of pianos in good rooms. Thank you for keeping them in good rooms.”

The acceptance was, again, brief. He walked to the microphone, put both hands on the podium, and thanked, in order, the fans who had voted, the audience in the room, the piano at Abbey Road on which he had, in October, recorded a session for BBC Radio 3, and, at the end, his father, who had, per Luca's own words, “taken me to a piano the first time I asked for one, in a shop in Old Town Alexandria, when I was three.” He then, in a small aside, said the last time he had been in London he had been eleven, and the first thing he had done was go to a music shop in Soho, and that he was going to try, this trip, to go back.

The British press, on the night, was uncharacteristically generous. The Telegraph, in a rare front-page arts placement, called the vote “the least contentious International Male in a decade.” The Guardian, in a middle-column analysis piece, called the vote “a quiet vote against the current shape of the ceremony, and for the piano.” NME, for its part, is not in the habit of endorsing Brit winners. We are, this once, willing to.

What is worth noting, and what the Brits themselves seemed to understand on the night, is that STARR is not a pop crossover in the ordinary sense. He is not a classical pianist who has been repackaged for a pop audience. He is, from every angle we can find, exactly what he was at twelve, and at eleven, and at seven, in a room in Alexandria. He has not been repackaged. He has been noticed.

Amara Starr, his sister and manager, said the family had not expected the Brits to close their way. “This is not our room,” she said. “This is Britain's room. Britain decided. We are grateful.”