Postcards from the edge

Theft and other festive activities

2011-12-23T05:50:00.001-08:00

I have been absent from the world of blog for a while. Let's call it a sabbatical, or time off for good behaviour.

I feel it's time now to return, and continue my intense debate, with myself, on all things that don't really matter to anyone.

Preparing for Christmas is the theme of the week, as that has been my focus over the past few days and I like to think I've excelled.

I also had an adventure fairly typical for anyone living in Paris, which involved chasing gypsy children down the streets of the Marais after they stole my phone. Luckily a plain clothes policeman intervened and put a stop to my chase. I say luckily as I'm fairly certain the two 11 year old girls I was chasing would have beaten me senseless had I actually caught up with them. Which I wouldn't have.

Anyway, a happy ending there, although not for the gypsy children as they were arrested and almost certainly guillotined.

But back to the Christmas tree.

Red lights were accidentally purchased due to a lack of understanding between myself and the supermarket personell, so after dark from outside our living room now looks alarmingly like a brothel in Amsterdam's Red Light District.

In an effort to negate this and limit the number of confused late night callers to our door, we have added some flashing white bulbs along our bookshelves, which make me feel slightly dizzy whenever I look directly at them.

We have no music of a Christmassy nature, so we have been listening to Chausson's Poeme, which is about the most depressing piece of music ever written, and this combined with the bordel-like appearance of our apartment has created an unusually festive atmosphere.

Much discussion has been had on the subject of the Christmas lunch, which for the first time is to be held in our own home with only ourselves to blame for the results.

Since we have English, German and Japanese blood, the decision on what to cook has not been an easy one. A dish combining sushi, sauerkraut and turkey seemed such a horrendous thought I would have cancelled Christmas before I agreed to it.

The idea of a goose was floated at some point, but I'm glad I managed to steer around that one, as I'm scared of geese.

We've arrived finally at a set of courses described to my wife by her French teacher, in French, none of which either of us have ever heard of, and allowing for the possibility of a badly translated ingredient to cause any number of distressing outcomes.

I shall update everyone after the event, hopefully.

Happy Christmas, and good luck.

Thomas Carroll gets badly misinterpreted.....

2011-05-09T03:21:00.001-07:00

I attempted to use the dictation app on my iphone to transcribe Thomas Carroll's lovely review off Radio 3's CD Review programme.

I held it up to the speaker and it came out with the below paragraph, which is possibly the funniest thing I've ever read in my entire life.

Maybe more relaxed at the swelling of the planet letter straight 5 min… Project with Thomas Carroll's cellos realistically balanced gets there Williams carpet and it contains a cleaning entry to relax and so was the best ever ends their recital browsers F major site begins and in between there is the heartfelt passion and regretted Schubert opportunism after which carol sings moving the audience is beautiful and really enjoyed the piano at the corporate site putting from Orchid classics.

Lost in translation

2011-05-07T03:39:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting on my bed looking out at a beautiful view from the window of my hotel room. I'm in Siegen, Germany, where the countryside is spectacular and beautiful in the way German nature always is.

I've been studying French this morning.
Language is a strange thing. A few days ago on a train in Germany, a ticket inspector was staggeringly rude to me because I spoke English to him. I honestly thought he was going to punch me in the face, despite the fact that I was sitting down and it would've meant his leaning over a large suitcase.
To an extent it's fair enough to be angry when someone comes to your country and expects you to speak their language, so I apologise for that. But it would be impossible for me to learn conversational skills in the language of every country I end up in, so in that sense I guess I'm lucky to be English, as my native language is spoken or understood all across the world.
I can see that that must be seriously annoying to those who aren't English though.

But there are different types of travellers. I was in Mexico a few years ago and was constantly impressed by the behaviour of my friend who ate local food from street vendors, (the orchestra had actually advised us not to), insulted local taxi drivers in Spanish when they overcharged us, and seemed to have an intrinsic knowledge of Mexican culture. I've heard he's like that everywhere he goes.
I like to think I have a level of curiosity, I am interested to find out about the places I visit, but I'm also a man of home comforts. I have CNN on the telly. The further I am from home the more I like to drink Starbucks coffee, and read the Guardian on my laptop. There's enough to think about when you're travelling, so those things you know to be a certain way, even if they aren't the best, provide me with great happiness.
Actually, I do speak some German, but I forgot nearly all of it whilst being insulted by the chap selling me my train ticket.
But it has reinvigorated my desire not to be the English guy who only speaks English.
I have a French lesson booked for next week, and I shall in future be ready for anything.

2011-04-07T08:08:00.000-07:00

What I could have...

2011-04-07T08:07:00.001-07:00

I'm sitting at the edge of the water, admiring other people's boats. I'm thinking I could have a boat. By that I mean I would like to have a boat- obviously it would be terrifically impractical to park, living in paris.

I start to feel increasingly the appeal of living closer to nature. The sound of the water. The birds. It's all so calming.
Alex Taylor, my dear friend who is a wonderful pianist and who runs the orchestra here in Kristiansand, gave up life in London to come here.

Now he works very hard but owns 2 houses and a kajak (Norweigen spelling).

I could do that.

But I can imagine taking it further.

I could find an uninhabited island, 1000 miles from anywhere, and set up a new life there. Away from everything I'm convinced I need.

I would build a wigwam for a house. Or one for me, one for my wife, and a little one for our daughter.
I would cut my own hair, with a sharpened American Express card.

I would harpoon fish with my bow, which my wife would eat raw as she's half Japanese, while I would cook mine thoroughly on a small fire I'd built.
I would use my iPhone exclusively for short games of Angry Birds in between hunting, and once daily access to Norman Lebrecht's blog, just to stay informed on the life I'd left behind.

And my violin? I would play songs around the camp fire, as out of tune as I pleased. They would mostly be requests from my daughter, such as the theme to Peppa Pig and the elephant song from Jungle Book. (I might leave a fish dangling on the end of my bow, just for comedic value, as laughs could be in short supply.)

I would learn patience.

I would learn to be grateful for what we had.

Until then, however, reality calls. I will now go and search for expensively packaged and environmentally horrific hair products, as mine were confiscated by a Frenchman at airport security, and I have a concert to play tonight.

New Festival!

2011-03-30T14:13:00.000-07:00

I'm very excited about my new project. The brilliant Malmo Academy, where I teach, has let me out of my padded room and allowed me to programme a new mini-festival, over the last weekend of May. To be held in a lovely hall in Malmo, there will be concerts, masterclasses, lectures and more. Some of my favourite musicians are coming, including Anthony Marwood, Lawrence Power, Martin Roscoe, Guy Johnston, Yuri Zhislin and my old friend and piano brother, Alex Taylor. Alex has long ago moved to Norway to pursue his passion of seal clubbing, and I can't wait to see him.
We will be filming things so everyone can watch on the website too.
I'm not going to lie, there is a casino just by the hotel so it was easy to get these guys along. Especially that Johnston, he's unstoppable at the roulette table.

Mozart and McDonalds

2011-03-10T15:40:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting in a taxi driving over the famous bridge that crosses from Malmo, Sweden, to Copenhagen, Denmark. I know this because I get friendly texts from Vodafone every time I cross this bridge, welcoming me to whichever side I'm arriving on and explaining how horrifically expensive it'll be for everyone involved should anyone dare to call me.

I've spent the last two days listening to auditions for the music college in Malmo where I teach, hearing the next wave of students auditioning for places. I think we heard at least 20 Mozart concertos, which is tiring, whatever you say about the man's music.

In my break today I went over to the local McDonalds, and was berated by the man behind the counter for ordering a salad. Apparently they only serve them because they have to, but no sensible McDonalds customer ever actually orders one. I felt embarrassed so I added fries and a milkshake to my salad order, just to save face.

And now back home, where unfortunately I have to practice Mozart as I'm playing it next weekend. I am, however, looking forward to introducing my wife to the winning salad and chips combination.

Kids in Jersey

2011-02-01T14:36:00.000-08:00

Just came back from a really enjoyable weekend in Jersey.

Guy Johnston, my cello playing musical father/sister, was an inspiration as always. I love playing with Guy, rehearsing with him, drinking with him, even travelling with him is fun- although that may actually be because we didn't sit together, which always helps.
Watching Guy deal with the moody and incompetent British Airways staff member who tried not to let his cello on board was glorious. He was twice as effective as I ever am, without swearing once.

A lesson.

On Friday I played a concert for 200 children. There were facial expressions I have never seen before in an audience, either at my concerts or anyone else's. They ranged from unbearable boredom through to great excitement, with very little in between.
I love the raw reactions of children. They don't feel the need to make you feel warm and cosy on stage- if you come on and tell them a joke they don't think is funny, they won't laugh. As I did, and they didn't. But I think they enjoyed it overall, and I loved the whole experience.

I will definitely be trying to do that more often.

Run, Forest, Run

2011-01-14T05:38:00.000-08:00

So the running's going quite well thanks. I have a Nike+ app on my iphone which allows you to 'challenge your previous run' by trying to run faster or longer. It shouts recorded messages of American men screaming encouragement at you as you reach a certain distance, hopefully ahead of your previous time, so you know you're winning. I say this having never heard such shouting as I seem to be getting slower with every run, so my iphone stays deafeningly silent.

Also the writing in the app is all in French so everything involves a certain amount of guesswork.

Anyway, luckily I travel quite a bit so I always have a reason to get out of the groove with exercising. This weekend it's back to London for a bunch of meetings and some rehearsing.
Some of the meetings are for our new venture- in November we launched a new foundation, to go alongside the record label, which will hope to provide grants for certain brilliant young musicians to make and promote recordings. It has a group of incredible trustees so I have high hopes for it.

You can check it out here: www.orchidtrust.com

I am now being regularly 'chased' by my own manager to see if I've been running enough. This blog is nothing but trouble.

New Year!

2011-01-02T05:04:00.000-08:00

Another new year arrives, and with it a collection of new resolutions which will be embarrassingly failed over the next 12 months.
For the record, I plan to be a multi-lingual, piano playing super-dad by the end of this year. And a stone lighter too.

Still, I can't wait to get 2011 started. Sitting in the snowy hills of Germany as I am now (slightly hurting from an earlier sledging accident) it feels appropriate that the first release on our record label this year will be called 'Winter Sketches'- an album of Russian miniatures from the incredible accordionist Bjarke Mogensen. You have to hear it, it really is amazing. In fact you can have some of it for free, if you click here.

My next big project is preparing for the release of our children's album, to raise money for the Lenny Trusler Children's Foundation. It's been a long time in the making, but is finally planned for release in spring. Recording Clive Owen reading The Jabberwocky was one of the highlights of last year for me. If anyone is cooler than Clive Owen, I don't want to meet him. I don't think I could cope with such an experience.

Speaking of highlights, I'm filled with amazing memories of our concert at Cadogan Hall, which raised a fortune for the foundation. That whole experience made me very aware of how generous people can be. It completely restored my faith in humanity, and left me with a staggeringly long list of people I now owe favours to, which was the only downside.

One at a time please.

Happy new year.

Cadogan Hall

2010-12-29T04:02:00.000-08:00

Finally, some photos from our concert at Cadogan Hall, which raised masses of money for the Lenny Trusler Children's Foundation.

Our Concert, hoping to help some very ill babies

2010-10-22T09:29:00.000-07:00

Click here:
Cadogan Hall December 1st video

I don't mean to moan, but.....

2010-10-19T14:03:00.001-07:00

As I sit, the victim of another strike, at Paris CDG airport's train station, I am given pause to wonder, out loud and with expletives at certain points, if travelling could be any more of a pain in the proverbials.
I thought I'd ruminate on this until either my train arrives, or due to cold and boredom I strangle myself with the strap on my violin case. Whichever comes first.

The most distressing aspect of travelling is the loss of time. Time you will never get back, time that is spent in a void. You aren't where you were, nor where you will be, so you are, by definition, waiting. Sure you can try to be productive, you can work, read, blog. But these are all things you will do not because you actually want to, but purely because you need to kill time, which is a terrible, terrible concept. Killing time. I don't know what the opposite of killing time is- perhaps giving birth to it?- but that's what we should be doing, rather than hoping it moves even faster so we can be somewhere we want to be.

The next worst thing about the travelling thing is the loss of control. You are driven, flown, pulled around on trains, all at the mercy of other people, and other people's schedules. If one person is late on the plane, we all are. If one group of people strikes, we all lose money and time waiting. And worst of all, I spend an extraordinary amount of time being subjected to horrific music in taxis. Someone told me it is the law in Sweden that taxis must only play 80's soft-rock. I don't believe this to be true, although my experience would certainly suggest it might be.

There are, of course, advantages to spending time in airports and train stations.
I literally can't think of one, so I'll end this here. (To the sounds of Bon Jovi, as it seems French train stations have the same law as Swedish taxis- must be a Euro-zone ruling).

A Strange Bunch

2010-10-13T07:52:00.000-07:00

I've just spent the morning recording a lovely version of Carl Davis's music for The French Lieutenant's Woman, with Carl conducting the Philharmonia orchestra. The piece is for string quartet and orchestra, and it got me thinking about musicians.
I got up at 7am today in order to be ready for a 10am start. I had bought Lucozade in order to be fully awake, and I arrived in the dressing room in time to play my scales, before which I made sure my hands were washed and I'd done some jumping up and down exercises to be warm and ready to play.
Then, Lawrence Power, who was playing the viola part, arrived. He got a cup of tea, took his viola out, and pretty much went straight up to the session.
I am jealous, because he sounded fabulous, and he is clearly not a neurotic, so that's kind of annoying on two counts.
Glenn Gould used to have to submerge his hands in hot water before playing, whereas David Oistrakh would play Paganini Caprices before breakfast. Joshua Bell blow-dries his fingers with a hair dryer before going on stage, Martin Roscoe always brushes his teeth.
I guess it's really to be expected, as people are inherently different, but I find it quite fun to watch how musicians all have their own ways of dealing with the generally quite peculiar business of playing an instrument.

Beverley from Wales

2010-09-25T16:16:00.000-07:00

Our lovely presenter for tonight's concert. It's amazing what a cranberry juice will do.

Driving...

2010-09-25T04:36:00.001-07:00

We are driving, from the beginning of Wales to the end. The sun is shining, and we are as happy as 5 people in one car driving for 5 hours on the day of a concert can be.
Currently, I am sunbathing in the lovely town of Ludlow, where we have pulled in for a 6 minute stop. Of which I've used half to write this.

Mongolian Throat Singers at the Pompidou Centre

2010-09-10T15:38:00.001-07:00

An unorthodox warm-up for a challenging song-

Great performers

2010-09-05T04:24:00.000-07:00

I saw some incredible street performers today. It has become something of a favourite ritual, heading to the Pompidou Centre- which is a few minutes from our apartment- to see if there are any new acts we haven't yet seen.
My daughter was recently overwhelmed by a man who climbed up a lamppost wearing a red cape, and this morning we watched the most virtuosic display of balloon animal making I have ever seen.
Naturally there is the odd performance which is perhaps not quite ready for public consumption, such as an elderly chap who has an act involving matchsticks. It draws a huge crowd as no-one is quite sure when the climax will be, until they realise there will be no climax, by which time everyone is too embarrassed to leave.
But some of these performers are incredibly talented. Like the Mongolian throat singers, who produce extraordinary sounds from their throats, wearing wonderful traditional costumes and playing 2 stringed guitar and cello-like instruments. They pause between songs and hand around a rolled up cigarette, which is unorthodox behaviour for a group of singers, but it seems to work well for them.
On a sunny day there is no better place to go for good, raw entertainment.

Very Early Ramblings

2010-06-30T22:25:00.000-07:00

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.

2010-06-21T10:46:00.001-07:00

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

Three cheers For NWB

2010-06-19T15:08:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-18T08:01:00.001-07:00

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

2010-06-04T02:29:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-02T10:03:00.000-07:00

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.

The Other Side

2010-05-31T12:52:00.000-07:00

I would like to write a few words about something called the IAMA conference, which I found myself attending last month.

IAMA is the International Artists' Managers Association, and it is the body which holds together every manager or management company of any worth around the world.
I made my way there as a delegate to represent my record label, and it was an eye-opening experience to say the very least.
The first day I spent telling everyone this is something no artist should ever have to see. By the end of the 3rd day I was convinced every artist should be forced to see it.

As with any conference, the idea is to do business. As delegates we gathered in a large building, drank vats of coffee, and had 10 minute meetings during which one buys, sells and generally does a year's worth of business in a day.
The interesting part is that we didn't get taught this at music college. We never learnt of the way the whole thing comes together- two sides of the same coin, artists and business people working in completely separate worlds which somehow join in order to bring music to the public. As musicians it is too much accepted to pretend the other half doesn't exist, and when it does it is only a necessary evil.
The Curtis Institute, where I studied, had a class called "20th Century Musician', which attempted to teach us the basics of building a career in the music business. There was a tour of the IMG offices in New York, and a show of hands was requested in the first class to clear up who already had major representation. (Quite a few did.) We learnt how to write a good CV, (something I have never done in my life) and had some very interesting lectures from people on 'the other side', in other words managers and career builders, but they may as well have been from another planet to us musicians.

For me though, the fascinating part of the IAMA conference was that it was the music business laid completely bare. The endless coffee drinking, cigarette smoking cafe debates we had at college about the relative merits of seeing music as a business rather than an art were shattered in the face of a room filled with 300 men and women who were creating the music business. Just like any industry there is an engine room, and here it was. We as musicians spend our lives in darkened practice rooms, worshipping composers (quite rightly) but we too often choose to ignore what it is that goes on beside us to create the opportunities we need to play in front of people.

Of course, playing the violin is something like my reason for being. But how much fun it would be visiting the engine room of the world of music I never would have known.

Listen and watch

2010-05-17T11:54:00.000-07:00

The Young Musician of the Year finals were on the telly last night, but I could only listen on the radio as over here in Paris I can't get BBC TV. My manager kept me updated by text on the contestant's outfits, which was important. Interesting though, how differently you judge things when you can only hear, and are not disturbed by the visual aspect of a performance.

Anyway, I want to clarify that when I said on my Twitter page that I agreed with Sam Wallaston from the Guardian on his appraisal of the string finals which I was on the jury for, I meant the part about how we were all much too sweet and friendly, and only ever said sugary things, which perhaps was less interesting than Simon Cowell tearing young people's hearts out.
This led to several people thinking I was against the result- which I wasn't!
Just so we're all clear...

God Reads My Blog

2010-04-18T07:25:00.001-07:00

The moral of this story is clear: be careful what you wish for.
Within minutes of my posting a blog in which I mourned the lost days before global air travel and instant communications, a discreet little volcanic eruption was arranged and the first of my wishes was granted. Then Vodafone accidentally cut off my blackberry.

I'm now on a train, one of about 10 trains in fact, lasting around 17 hours in total, that should eventually get me home 4 days after I was meant to fly from Sweden to Paris.
And I have learnt that it isn't quite the romantic, relaxing picture I had thought it would be.
Imagine a world, I'd thought, where the time it took to cross countries was days rather than hours. How much slower our pace of life would be. How much more time we would have during travel for reflection, reading, writing, enjoying the landscape and having arty thoughts.
In reality I am standing for the 6th hour straight, hungry, hot, aggressively tired and without an arty thought in my head.
My wife texted me to suggest I wrote my blog during this useful free time on the train. I bet Prokofiev's wife wouldn't have texted him that. Anyway, he would have replied "I have a near complete sketch of the new 3rd symphony in my head now, the second subject of the last movement came to me fully formed as we passed through Siberia".
All I could manage was "I can't write coz I'm facing backwards and I'll probably be sick."
Still, there have been moments of good will among passengers. Lots of talk about volcanoes. A lady next to me offered me an extraordinarily revolting sweet which I didn't have the heart to spit out once I'd accepted it.
But all things said and done, I'm quite ready to rejoin the 21st century.

A thoughtful airport moment

2010-03-27T10:34:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, I was sitting in Stanstead airport, delayed, and annoyed. I was only there because my Heathrow flight with BA was cancelled due to the strike, and all my plans had to be changed. So I started to wonder what would happen if I said I no longer wanted to fly, ever, anywhere. Like the old days. If it means crossing water, I'll get a boat.
While I'm following this train of thought, how about I throw out my mobile phone too. Just travel the world with a pen and paper, on a boat.
I've often thought about this. The stories my old teacher Ruggiero Ricci used to tell, of learning to play the 5th caprice of Paganini, backwards, or of learning left hand pizzicato because it was the only technique he could practice lying in bed, could only belong to a time without planes, high-speed trains, blackberries and, of course, TV. My generation has come of age, slightly awkwardly, during the exact time the internet took over the world. We didn't have computers as children, but have had to build careers and lives in an age which revolves around them completely.
I shall use mine to watch a movie on the plane, to keep up with emails, to skype with my 2 year old daughter when I arrive. A daughter who thinks I exist in two forms- in person and on a computer screen- neither particularly less odd than the other. She will grow up completely at one with the technology my parents are still fairly confused by.
But, this year, for the first time, we will take a holiday- a no-phone holiday, where the only criteria are flip-flops and a hat. And maybe I'll learn the 5th caprice, backwards.

Never forget...

2010-03-12T12:18:00.000-08:00

Finally home after another long trip. This time I came close to actually drowning in all the music I had to play, but there were some lovely concerts along the way.

I sometimes feel that playing music for a living is a little like childbirth. (For the mother that is, not the child.)I mean this in as much as that you forget, completely, just how stressful something was almost as soon as you finish doing it. I can be standing backstage, swearing blind to all who will listen that I have had enough, and that a life of simplistic pleasures was all I ever really wanted, and I can't imagine how I ended up doing something so silly and so stressful. 29 minutes later I'm busy explaining how my only real sadness is that I don't play a concert every day.

I'm very happily relaxing in Paris now though, with a concert on Sunday to raise money for Haiti, which is the least we can do really.
Then back on the road Monday.

And the winner is.....

2010-02-10T04:03:00.001-08:00

A few nights ago I was doing jury service for the BBC Young Musician String Finals. Maybe I just keep getting older, but it seems to me like they get younger and younger. And better and better. I'm not allowed to say who won but all I can say is there was some unbelievable talent.
As I was suffering from one of my daughter's many stomach bugs while I was there, and looked "a bit peaky" in the words of the make-up lady, I had to spend twice as much time as anyone else getting made up. And I still looked awful.
Still, I marvelled at how the contestants dealt with the pressures of the TV and of the competition in general. It takes a certain kind of nerve to cope with such a situation.

Looking forward to watching the grand final in May.....

2010-01-29T02:20:00.000-08:00

Last night we had dinner in a lovely fish restaurant on the sea front. We were served a drink which the waiter swore was milk, but which clearly wasn't as it tasted spicy and was at least 60% alcohol. Together with huge salads and lots of toast it was a fabulous meal.
Now I sit on my bed watching Tony Blair giving his evidence on Iraq with the sun shining on the sea outside my window. Pretty soon it'll be time for a club sandwich.

Turkey Club Sandwich

2010-01-28T06:56:00.000-08:00

Today I am in the beautiful city of Ismir, Turkey.
There is a large cargo boat drifting past my window, and a thick mist on the horizon. Palm trees too, loads of them. There are so many places I've never been, each time I visit a new one I'm amazed at what I didn't know existed. (Obviously I knew palm trees existed, but there is still something very exotic about them.) This hotel has a view to compete with the best- picture to follow.

Everyone so far has been extremely friendly, and the concert hall is really fabulous. I'm here to play Britten concerto, which is one of my very favourites, but unbelievably difficult.
Since the concert is tomorrow, I shall prepare by having a huge feast tonight, as I consider eating and drinking an important part of my pre-concert build-up. It's like being a boxer, working towards a fight, training towards that one, crucial event. Except with perhaps more lying in bed eating club sandwiches. And no exercising.
I'm actually on a personal mission to find the most expensive club sandwich in the world. Monaco is currently in the lead at £28. Here it's only £16 which sounds like a bargain.

More soon.

No soap

2010-01-16T16:54:00.002-08:00

I am sitting in an airport hotel, having just boarded a plane, waited 2 hours, and got off it again. The French air traffic controllers are on strike, so we are stuck in Copenhagen. Tomorrow I was to be in Paris, now I will have to go straight to London. The ironic part of this is that I am in a hotel which has no soap. A Hilton hotel, with all kinds of shiny things dangling from the ceilings, and a room rate which made me cry real tears, but they have run out of soap. It's ironic because they ordered it from London, and the snow prevented it from arriving. So the weather is currently effecting my travel plans to the point that I am having to wash my hands with shower gel.

A word on travelling. I don't particularly like travelling, truth be told, in as much as the actual getting from one place to another. I'm convinced that it is bad for the body to be hurled forwards and backwards at such speeds but I can't prove that fact yet. I find it tiring, and I always feel travel sick. This means I'm not much good at reading while travelling so it's pretty boring too. I quite like train journeys as they are usually fairly straightforward. You can look out the window, (unless you're sitting backwards in which case you'd better keep your eyes shut) and there's no checkin, security control, passport check, shuttle to terminal, bus to plane, boarding, safety briefing, taxi to runway, take-off, landing, taxi to parking spot, bus to terminal, baggage collection, passport check….
With a train, you just get on, and then get off when you arrive.

I do like hotels though, in general. When they have soap.

Movie trailer

2009-12-26T14:18:00.001-08:00

Here is a trailer for the French movie I recently played in the soundtrack for. That's me screeching around in the background.
Do not take your grandparents to see this film.....

click here

New Year's Blog

2009-12-26T12:00:00.001-08:00

As it is coming to that time of year again, I thought I'd write my very own 'review of the year blog'.
Much has happened for me in 2009. For one, a move to a new country- meant as a brief change of scenery originally but, as the cliche so often goes, when the time came to leave we just didn't want to. We seem quite comfortably installed in Paris now, my taste for nutella and banana crepes not diminishing, and with still a huge appetite for this beautiful city. I'm definitely becoming a little more blaze about the Eurostar than is tasteful- I went to London today just for lunch which was great fun but completely unreasonable.

This year was also notable personally for the relaunch of my record label, with a major worldwide distribution deal and four new albums, one of which was my own first concerto recording. Each of the albums was incredibly well received, thank goodness, and over the coming year we are working on recordings with a whole list of world class artists, from Joan Rodgers to Guy Johnston.

I also started my first teaching post, at the brilliant Malmo academy in Sweden, which has quickly become one of the most important parts of my musical life. The academy is extremely dynamic and forward thinking, and I'm thrilled to be part of it. I have also found a sadistic pleasure in making my students play scales in octaves in front of each other.

Concert highlights have been many but have included some really special ones. Taking part in a wonderful concert at Cadogen Hall, to raise money for Pancreatic Cancer UK, was one. The evening was promoted by my good friend and partner in Orchid Classics, James Brown, who made the whole thing look easy (which it isn't) and raised £40,000 in one night.
Another was touring Holland with the LSSO, an experience which on the one hand reminded me how glad I am not to be 17 anymore, but on the other made me wish I was. The disco on the last night had to be seen to be believed, and was worth the trip alone. Highlight of that tour- my suitcase getting lost by the airline on the way out, and having 2 hours in which to spend £700 insurance money on 'emergency' clothes, racing round the shops with natural born shopper (and conductor) Peter Ash.

And now I sit with my family, discussing my new year's resolutions, which I never keep any of.

Happy new year to everyone out there.

Recording

2009-12-15T14:40:00.000-08:00

Last week I spent a really enjoyable, if totaly exhausting few days recording a new album with two amazing musicians- violist Lawrence Power and pianist Simon Crawford-Philips. The repertoire included Brahms horn trio (with Lawrence on the horn) and Bax trio.
There were times when it seemed we weren't going to make it out alive, as 3 neurotic musicians in a room with microphones can make for a stressful situation, but we were all pretty happy by the end.
Working title for the album is 'Bax Against The Wall' but that might have to change if the grown-ups don't like it.
You can see pictures from the sessions here:
http://www.orchidclassics.blogspot.com/

Last view, I promise

2009-11-30T09:49:00.000-08:00

From my room in Kuala Lumpur.
Back in Paris at last, enjoying a few days before heading off again. While I've been away my daughter has learnt German, and forgotten English. She also seems to have learnt the violin which is curious, as when I left she was a pianist.

Malaysia

2009-11-12T02:45:00.000-08:00

In Malaysia now, Kuala Lumpur, with an incredible view of the twin towers from my window. It is unbelievably hot and muggy, but raining at the same time. Very strange sensation, walking in the rain but feeling the need to roll up your sleeves as it's too hot.
I have discovered the joys of Skype, which means I can now work on my computer with a live video of my wife cooking in the background. And I don't need to offer to help- surely the perfect situation?

Another view

2009-11-10T20:23:00.001-08:00

And this one, just outside the room I was teaching in yesterday. I
taught 10 brilliant youngsters at the Hong Kong Academy, in between
popping out to look at the view.

More like it

2009-11-10T20:20:00.001-08:00

I'm rather obsessed with the views from various rooms I get put in, as
you can tell from this blog.
This one was my Hong Kong hotel room.

Hong Kong!

2009-11-06T20:06:00.000-08:00

I am looking at Hong Kong from my window, and I've never seen anything like it. I haven't had a chance to go sight-seeing yet as I only arrived 2 days ago and played my concert last night, but I have many plans.....
Last night I ate jellyfish- I have photographic evidence which will come soon.

Welcome to Paris

2009-10-29T15:12:00.000-07:00

I'll take two of each.

A room with a view

2009-10-13T12:41:00.000-07:00

In case anyone thinks I'm always bragging about my beautiful hotel room views.....this is where I'm staying tonight.

Too young?

2009-10-06T13:06:00.000-07:00

If any of the investors that own this violin are worried by the sight
of my 18 month old daughter plucking it, please don't be. She has
great pizzicato control.

2009-09-24T09:44:00.000-07:00

(photo: Ian Gillett)

LSSO

Last night was one of the most enjoyable concerts I've played in for a long time, with the LSSO at the Barbican, playing Mendelssohn.
To all the brilliant young people in the LSSO- thank you for having me, and I can't wait to come back for another one.

2009-09-18T14:02:00.000-07:00

If you want to read something a little bit crazy, choose one of these:

http://news.google.co.uk/nwshp?hl=en&tab=wn&q=matthew%20trusler

I would like to say, from my point of view, that when I played them I had no idea which of the modern violins were treated with the special fungus and which weren't. My favourite one apparently wasn't I'm afraid.....
And honestly, a Strad is a Strad. At least, that's what I think.

Deauville

2009-09-13T00:52:00.000-07:00

This weekend we are having the first holiday we have taken for a ridiculously long time. We have come for 2 days to Deauville for the American Film Festival. There are a million films showing every day, and last night was a special tribute to Harrison Ford who showed up and cried a lot which was brilliant. I was totally and completely star struck just being in the same room.
This is the view from our hotel room- we are in heaven!

2009-09-10T12:27:00.000-07:00

We are finally settled into our beautiful new apartment in Paris, and we couldn't be happier. Up on the fifth floor, with no lift, moving in was an amusing experience. 50 boxes, 5 flights of stairs, no help from my wife. Let's just say I don't plan to move out anytime soon.
Only here for a few days now though- we are going to have a 24 hour holiday, in Deauville, where the film festival is taking place, which I can't wait for. Then back to Malmo to make sure my students are practising their scales.....

2009-09-05T10:55:00.001-07:00

Summer has finally finished.
So much has happened over the last 2 months I can hardly remember any of it. I wouldn't say I feel rested, but I'm ready to get on with the next season. There are many things I'm looking forward to- for instance moving back to Paris, as we've been homeless and travelling since June. My new album which is about to come out- it's been a long process and I can't wait to see it finished. Teaching in Malmo, Sweden, where I started earlier this week, with my class of fabulous and enthusiastic students. All the new albums coming out on my record label- there will be 4 next month.

I would really like to say a special hello to everyone in the LSSO- a group of amazing young musicians that I went on tour in Holland and Belgium with last month- they, and their chief Peter Ash who is a great, great person, musician and advisor on all things, are an inspiration. I can't wait to see everyone for our reunion at the Barbican on 23rd September.

2009-07-08T07:58:00.000-07:00

Some strange guy turned up at my mum's 60th birthday party and started offering my niece cigarettes.
OK, it was me, and they aren't real cigarettes.
The theme was 'what you wanted to be when you grew up' and I wanted to be a policeman. Since it was the early eighties at the time, that would have meant an afro, tash, and frilly shirt.
Maya went as an astronaut. Difficult to say which of us failed more spectacularly to achieve our dreams- I like to think my work incorporates an element of policeman-style danger, whereas Maya's has very little indeed to do with space travel.

Here we are with our one year old daughter, Lily, who went as a fairy, and my sister who apparently wanted to be a tennis player.

2009-07-08T07:40:00.000-07:00

See how happy we look...

NEVER WORK WITH YOUR WIFE
One should under normal circumstances never work with one's wife. However, Maya and I have stared logic in the face and played together on many occasions. Actually, it works very well, and we annoy each other suprisingly little when we rehearse.
For this concert in Beaminster last week, we were joined by Maya's sister, Sara, who is a fabulous pianist.

2009-04-30T07:59:00.000-07:00

Mine is the one on the right...

THE MESSIAH
This morning was a very unusual morning. I visited the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford, and was allowed to spend some time holding the Messiah Stradivari.
For those who don't know, the Messiah is generally accepted to be the most perfectly preserved Strad in existence. It is in absolutely mint condition, due to the fact that it has been owned entirely by collectors since it left the maker's workshop. Made in 1716, it has almost never been played.
The reason for my being allowed anywhere near it is long and I won't bore anyone with it, but I did take a picture of this 'Mona Lisa of Strads' lying next to my own Strad, which was a horrible and unfair thing to do- although to be honest, from a distance, I thought the Messiah looked like a fiddle out of a factory in France, due to the fact it has the appearance of a brand new violin. When you look closer though it has all the beauty, as well as all the quirks, of Stradavari's violins, and the fact it looks so new is a wonder of the world, since it is actually 300 years old.
It was a truly memorable experience, and I am well aware it will likely never be repeated...

2009-04-21T11:42:00.000-07:00

2 BEACHES AND A RIVER
This last week has been a long one, but it included 3 brilliant trips.
It started with a weekend in one of my favourite places in France- Deauville. I have been going to Deauville several times a year for a while now and growing increasingly fond of it. Most famous perhaps for the film festival held there, Deauville is a beautiful town on the sea in Northern France. It is also extremely famous for it's horse racing and polo- both of which I have thoroughly enjoyed going to see. The Easter festival is held in a hall which is also used for the auctioning of horses which gives it a rather unique atmosphere. The audiences are wonderful, and the festival in general is one of my very favourites anywhere.
During the concert, we made the unfortunate decision to repeat the final movement of Mendelssohn's Octet for an encore, and we ended up at a pace which we should all have been arrested for. I got confused in the last line and finished 2 notes after everyone else. I have been left severely traumatised by the experience.
After a few days of therapy I was back on my horse and in Brighton to play Tchaikovsky with the London Philharmonic. The orchestra was in amazing shape and played a really superb Sibelius 2nd symphony after the interval.
As I walked along Brighton beach a few hours before the concert I watched the crowds of happy people drinking beer and playing games like volleyball. I felt angry that they were allowed to drink beer in the afternoon when I wasn't. Often, on normal non-concert days, I feel guilty that I am able to sun-bathe if I want, or drink vodka with my breakfast while other people are on the tube to work. I vowed to remember the moment on Brighton beach next time that happens.
From there I went to Dublin, where I watched Anthony Marwood play a fantastic Schumann concerto. He is really a great violinist I think, and I recommend everyone who hasn't to go and hear him.
Perhaps most memorable this week was the fact that my hotel room in Brighton was number 430. In Dublin? 430. What are the chances of that? AND, in Brighton, they told me there were 3 Truslers in the hotel that night..... This must surely have been a lie as I've never met another one. At breakfast I asked the manager to look at the guest list and the best he could do was a Julia Truscott.
Close but no cigar.

On stage with the LPO. I promise I'm there, really...

2009-03-18T16:04:00.000-07:00

SPRING!
There are many reasons I like being in Paris. I like that you can walk for just half an hour and already take in 5 of the worlds most beautiful and famous landmarks.
I like that there is a bistro, Chez Janou, literally outside my house, where I am writing this now.
I like that in Paris, even the beggars are stylish. A lady came to me on the street recently to ask for money, wearing the most fabulous sparkly trainers. I suggested she sell them first of all.
I like visiting different worlds, infiltrating other cultures, other industries, anything I know nothing about.
On that note, this morning I went to an early screening of the movie I made a tiny contribution to by playing the violin solos on the soundtrack. At 10am on a beautiful sunny day we sat in a darkened screening room, in the most comfortable seats you never saw in a cinema. The producer, director, composer and several others sat with pens and paper while the film rolled, and everyone made lots of intelligent comments afterwards, except me as I couldn't think of any.
The movie was fantastic I thought- but brutal and violent, so much so that I spent a large proportion of it squeezing the wonderfully cushioned arm rests of my seat.
It was most peculiar, watching these graphic and disturbing scenes through gritted teeth, only to be greeted by the sounds of my violin playing to accompany the misery. It is a nightmare I'm sure I've actually had- witnessing something diabolical whilst my violin provides the soundtrack.
Eerie.

2009-03-13T14:25:00.000-07:00

I hope he won't look like this...

MICHAEL JACKSON
I'm not normally a man prone to obsessive behaviour, (honestly) but this morning I got up very early and bought tickets to Michael Jackson. I'm actually slightly embarrassingly excited.

2009-02-24T11:53:00.001-08:00

The view from my hotel room in Nyon, near Geneva. That's lake Geneva there. I was slightly worried about sleepwalking out onto my balcony and falling in.

AT THE MOVIES IN SWITZERLAND

Yesterday I got to do something I've wanted to do for literally as long as I can remember- I took part in the recording of the music for a movie. I love the movies, and am usually the last person to leave the cinema as I always insist on sitting through to the end of the credits. I'm fascinated by the process, the sheer number of people involved in the production of a film, and the music is such an integral part of it, so I've always longed to get in on the action.
As with most things that appear to be incredibly exotic and exciting, it was a mixture of great fun and long, long periods of doing nothing at all. We finally started to record our parts at midnight, and went on until 3am when the owner of the studios appeared to be physically assaulting the composer in the sound box, so the decision was taken to stop.
The music for the film, which is starring Gilbert Melki (Largo Winch) and Emanuelle Devos (The Beat That My Heart Skipped), is fabulous- composer Grégoire Hetzel had written some gorgeous solos (some of them horribly difficult) which violist Beatrice Muthelet and myself played, whilst trying not to be distracted by the movie being shown on a screen in front of us. Since the film is about murder, drugs and prostitution I adopted my special 'murder drugs and prostitution' sound. We'll see how effective that was when the film comes out in September.

Beatrice Muthelet playing one of her solos, at about 2am...

Director Frédéric Mermoud trying to put on a brave face at 3am...

2009-02-19T12:48:00.000-08:00

MADAME POLIGNIAC

So far Paris is twice as good as we thought it would be. Le Marais makes Hampstead look like a rubbish tip and our local patisserie is so expensive it feels like we've been shopping in Tiffany's every time we pop out for a baguette. Anyway, we are blissfully happy and don't ever want to leave.
Last week I played a concert in the magnificent Salle Poligniac, once the home of Madame Singer-Poligniac, a lady of legendary status in France as patron and supporter of almost every great French composer there ever was. The house holds letters and manuscripts by Ravel, Stravinsky, Cocteau, Poulenc and many, many others. The decor is extraordinary- in the concert hall (which once doubled as Madame's living room) there is an opera house style box built into the wall where the great lady would sit to watch performances by the great and the good of the time. It really is the sort of place which makes you shiver when you look around- which is tricky when you have to play long slow notes.

The box in which Madame Poligniac sat for the concerts held in her home, with her portrait underneath

2009-01-20T14:55:00.000-08:00

PARIS!

Bonjour!
I am sitting, unbelievably happily, on the couch in our home for the next half a year, in the beautiful Marais district of Paris.
It is the end of an epic journey, having talked about this for 7 years, but finally we are here.
The plan, in case you wondered, is to learn French, spend as much time with our friends in Paris as we can, and to generally enjoy being in one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

Today, apart from being notable for our relocation, also saw a new US President. This seems slightly less important than the fact that I just ate a whole pack of French brie while Maya unpacked boxes but it is notable nonetheless.
I can't believe he messed up the words during the swearing in. Brilliant. He can make a 20 minute speech without hesitation but got stressed repeating 40 words. I can understand though, I got confused about the words at my wedding.

Go Obama...

2009-01-20T14:12:00.000-08:00

RECORDING PHOTOS

2008 was a good year for recording, and there are now two things ready for release in 2009. The first was a children's project, called 'Fairy Tales and Goblins' Dances'. It has on it my wife Maya, (also playing violin) and two of my very favourite pianists in the world, Martin Roscoe and Alex Taylor.
We recorded in Champs Hill, amongst lots of splendid paintings and fattening food...

I think Martin is laughing at my intonation...

And secondly, in June I made my first concerto recording- of Kornglold and Rozsa concertos, both written for or premiered by Heifetz but I'm hoping nobody is going to remember the recording he made of them both...
I recorded them in the amazing Tonhalle in Dusseldorf, with the Dusseldorfer Symphoniker and Yasuo Shinozaki conducting. The sessions were incredibly tiring but great fun- perhaps the hardest part was the walk from the stage to the recording box which included around 9000 stairs I believe, and which nearly saw several members of the team rendered useless due to chest pains. We survived though, and the record comes out in Spring.

I told you the box was high up- this was taken from inside...

2009-01-11T02:15:00.000-08:00

ARSENAL 1-0 BOLTON
One of my very favourite places to be is watching the football. As long as it's Arsenal, and as long as they are winning.
Yesterday was the coldest I have ever been, anywhere, in my whole life. (Someone behind me said it was -30 but I think it may not quite have been.)
And it took 84 long, shivering mintues for the goal to come...
I think the cold weather had an adverse effect on the usually good natured, polite and patient crowd. The level of swearing went up several notches where I was sitting- I found myself shouting words I had never previously deemed acceptable for public use.
Brilliant fun.

2009-01-04T13:17:00.000-08:00

Hello!

As it's new year, I've resolved to start writing a blog. I can't promise it will be of any more than the lowest level of entertainment value but I'll give it my best shot.
I just came home from Spain, where I spent a week on the beautiful, sunny and absolutely freezing island of Menorca. The fabulous Orquestra de Cambra Illa de Menorca let me loose on them for a Christmas programme, made up of all sorts of things ranging from a Bach concerto to Carmen Fantasy, in front of two of the friendliest audiences I have met in a long while. The first concert was so cold several of us nearly died from frostbite but we pulled through and it ended up being brilliant fun.
Why are the Spanish so friendly? I would be too if I lived somewhere with such nice weather but it's more than that.
I was shown around a wonderful little fishing town by three members of the Felix family, all of whom play in the orchestra. Everything there was tiny- the houses, the steps, the pathways, I was led to believe the people were tiny too but that turned out not to be true.
I miss it already and I can't wait to go back.

Now I'm at home, surrounded by boxes, preparing for our temporary move to Paris.......