Very Early Ramblings

I'm on the tube, and it's 5.30am.
It is a sobering experience being up this early, but what is extraordinary is how many others there are who seem to start there day when sensible people have only just gone to bed. I had to wait for a seat on the tube. I had to WAIT FOR A SEAT at 5.30 in the morning. When I told my mum I was leaving at 5 she was concerned for my safety, as this is a time traditionally observed only by milkmen and rapists, or so we thought.
The tube is clearly divided between those who are up, showered, fresh and ready to crack on with their day, and those who most certainly aren't. A few look quite shell-shocked, as though they have no idea at all how they got here.
One gentleman has a beer open though, which I find particularly impressive.
But I can't understand why there are so many people with the need to be travelling at this time. I can think of literally 3 jobs which require you to be in before six. Like, for instance, fisherman. But I don't reckon a fisherman would get the tube to work.
Suggestions to this point on a postcard please.
I'm going to sleep now.

I found this in the car park the other day before a concert.
Was it wrong to take it home?

Three cheers For NWB

Last week I joined about 30 other strings players who took part in a concert to celebrate several things, all of them Nigel Brown.
Nigel's instrument schemes have been running for 25 years now, which is ample reason in itself for a celebration. Added to this, however, is the fact he has recently become High Sheriff of Cambridgeshire, and since he offered to wear the full official regalia for the evening, I certainly wasn't going to miss it. Finally, the concert raised a huge amount of money for motor neuron desease which is a brilliant cause to support. Pretty much everyone who has ever benefitted from Nigel's help was there, which meant a lot of very well known people.

The event was a black tie affair, for the audience and all but the most rebellious few musicians. Half of us didn't own anything resembling black tie, but we all did our best to cobble something together. I had been told that if I wore anything else I'd be the only person in the hall wearing an individual outfit, although I felt sure that honour would be going to Nigel himself, as it would be an extraordinary coincidence if someone else turned up wearing tights, a sword and a hat.

Altogether the evening was a splendid success, and we are all in Nigel's debt for his 25 years of hard, hard work helping musicians get what they most need- an instrument to play on.

Abbey Road

Yesterday I recorded for the first time at Abbey Road, which is a bit of a sacred place for musicians. It has such amazing history, the walls are lined with pictures of the great artists who have recorded there, and there have been many. The sound is fantastic in the studio, and the sandwiches in the cafe were not at all bad.
The pieces I was recording were from Porgy and Bess, as the piano parts from the great Heifetz arrangements have been beautifully orchestrated by David Matthews, so Carl Davis is including them on his Hollywood themed album due out later this year. He conducted the BBC Concert orchestra for the sessions, and is now one of my favourite people to work with. He has what most people don't, which is the ability to be completely in control and make it look effortless. They can't teach you that at college.

The Two Rules

There are two main rules in life I've realised.
The first is that if you ask a hairdresser not to take too much off please, they will cut your hair to within an inch of its life. If you don't want very short hair, never, ever, let that slip in the hairdressers. Red rag to a bull.

The second is that if you ask in a hotel for a room "with a nice view please", you will get one of a selection of rooms they hold back for such people, with the worst views the building has to offer.
The receptionist here at my Heathrow hotel was particularly proud of this one, it took him a full 5 minutes to select it for me.

Sunny Wales

Today I'm in Cardiff where the sun is shining, and I have this lovely view from my hotel room. That's the Millennium centre there on the left, which is a rather splendid building I think.
I'm here rehearsing with the BBC Welsh orchestra, the leader of which just helped me to discover I'm only 6 degrees separated from Louis Spohr, via my teacher Ruggiero Ricci, and Viotti. I'm Playing Spohr's 8th concerto with them, and I feel a new, profound connection with the piece on learning this news.
And apparently Spohr invented the chinrest, so we have a lot to thank him for there.