Another hard day at the office ... Photograph: Martin Godwin
Occasionally, when someone asks what I do, I mention that I write music. Naturally the assumption is that I devote all my time to this. It's far from the truth. I work at odd hours, when I find myself relatively free, but I have now developed the ability to switch on and off at a moment's notice and grasp these opportunities when they materialise.
In my mind, I am always - almost obsessively - pursuing compositional activity: the problem is that the world around me will not let me linger for long in my reverie. This conflict of interest, somewhat perversely, does produce results.
As a young and enthusiastic graduate from the Royal Academy of Music, I was once chosen to have a composition lesson with the eminent German composer Hans Werner Henze. I remember assembling my most treasured musical creations for him to look over, and anticipated his delight at discovering a compositional gem within them. Things didn't go quite as I'd imagined.
During the session he lowered his head, gazed over his glasses and asked: "What do you want to write about?" I hadn't prepared for this. I was waiting for him to direct me toward searing heights of profundity with insights gleaned from my scores. "You must find out what it is that you wish to write about," he continued.
In a panic, I blurted out a banal reply that he ignored. Where was the comment about my skills in counterpoint, orchestration or motivic development? I was bitterly disappointed. "You should travel, travel the world," he commanded. I muttered something about being too poor to indulge in such an activity. Gap years were not too fashionable at the time. "Are you as poor as a field mouse?" he asked.
I left his mews house feeling deflated, and drowned my sorrows at length. However, looking back, he was absolutely correct. I had acquired certain techniques but I had little idea how to use them in the pursuit of artistic creation borne from experience. Some time after that encounter, I found myself married with two young children, living in the Midlands, and, yes, as poor as a field mouse.
Now, many years later, I'm embarking upon a new musical journey - the creation of a set of piano pieces for a concert in London this year. The work proceeds slowly - not through choice but of necessity - owing to the demands and trappings of everyday life.
I do have another job, after all. Composing usually takes second place to my alternative career as cabby for my teenage sons.
