It is 8am on the 11th of October. My children Jake and Phoebe head off to school and my MPV taxi arrives minus specified back seats, a necessity to get my double bass and its 7ft carbon fibre flight case in. No raised eyebrows or time-worn jokes thankfully, as it's one of my regular drivers who knows the deal.
And so I'm off on tour with Hungarian pianist Andras Schiff's group Cappella Andrea Barca, wearing a different hat and a degree of curiosity. I've swapped my gut strings for steel ones (slipped a flat silver covered gut "A" on though... the "soul" region of my bass... can't forsake that depth) and I enjoy half an hour's tranquillity in the taxi to Heathrow as my calm but canny Polish driver weaves a clever route to perfection. The challenge, fun, games and headaches usually start outside the terminal building... how to single-handedly navigate bass, stool and a suitcase packed for two weeks to the check-in desk? Definitely not sexy.
Luckily this time is a breeze, as taxi driver chats up traffic warden, who agrees to assist me inside whilst she watches his car (unheard of!). So he wheels my suitcase and carries my stool. Bliss. She can barely see me under the bass flight case anyway. What a start!
He refuses a tip, but this is made up for by the airline charging me £208 for the excess weight. A nervous moment though when they say maximum weight is 40 kilos for a large instrument... the combined weight of my bass and flight case comes to 45 kilos! Mine's a light one, so how does this new weight rule affect the heavies? Crazy! Fortunately the nice check-in lady turns a blind eye to my extra weight.
Why am I here? Well, the prospect of playing six concerts with Andras was simply too tempting. It's quite a unique set-up, a motley crew where each player is selected by Schiff. Andras knows me from chamber music twenty five years ago in Prussia Cove. I'm intrigued with the whole idea of this and how it works. I have no idea who else is playing. I spot a violin-brandishing Brit on my flight, Julian Milone from the Philharmonia. We are met at Munich airport by a large taxi and two violists (Hariolf from Cherubini quartet) and Jean from Paris, both of whom I know from previous chamber music engagements.
We convene in a provincial little town called Neumarkt, check into hotels and go straight into three days' intensive rehearsals. It feels like a reunion of old friends, as I know half a dozen of my fellow musicians. Apart from four Brits, two Americans, two Japanese and one Canadian, the band is a colourful selection of big personalities from across central and eastern Europe and up to Norway. As it turns out, the whole band front to back is littered with leaders and principal players: a potentially lethal and impossible concoction. I am half-expecting mayhem and a lot of jockeying for position, but apart from some scrappiness in the first rehearsal, we quickly transform into one voice.
The entire Czech-based Panocha String Quartet, most of Hungarian-based Microcosmos, Takács and German-based Cherubini Quartets are here. The orchestra is led by Viennese Erich Hobarth, leader of Quattuor Mosaïques.
Tuning takes a matter of seconds... something else I have to adjust to, 'cos if I blink, I miss it. The atmosphere is one of total respect and sheer focus on every note Andras plays, no-one ever needs to ask a question, quibble a tempo, balance or note-length. Being used to vibrant discussions in my Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment projects, where everyone speaks up, on style and interpretation etc, here is an autocratic system in the most easy and convincing manner. I am amazed how few words are uttered during rehearsals, and the fact that those which are spoken come only from Andras. It's a relaxing atmosphere as there is no decision-making, yet it is obvious all of us maintain 100% commitment and sense of responsibility.
After two packed out concerts, full of encores and receptions, we fly to New York. There we stage three performances at Lincoln Center and one in Kennedy Center, Washington. Seeing as there are at least eight languages amongst us, there are endless opportunities for misunderstandings due to mispronunciations; the best being when Pavel Zeifart tells how he asked the hotel receptionist for "Sex for Two". All he wanted was his room key, number 642.
Programme 1 was Piano concerto K482, Linz Symphony K425, Piano concerto K488. Programme 2 was Piano concerto K491, Jupiter Symphony K551, Piano concerto K503.
Programme 3, which we played in both American cities, was Piano concerto K271, Symphony No 40 K550, Piano Concerto K595.
