Old post which was never published - from February '12

Embarking on the Wheel of 4tunes concerts, which is one of the projects we've devised to celebrate our 40th anniversary, is a scary prospect. The lovely team at Lancaster's Great Hall are completely up for the occasion - the Wheel has been assembled and lit beautifully so it can be seen from all parts of the hall. Our music is strewn over the stage in piles of ten - one for each section of the concert - and the realization that we will only know what we are about to perform when the wheel is spun is beginning to dawn, terrifyingly. Fiona, tonight's promoter, will be the first to spin - we hold our breath as she gives the wheel a determined yank - Daniel films it on his iPhone. The wheel slows and comes to a stop on Purcell's 'Chaconne' - we find the music, take up our positions and the concert begins. Everyone seems delighted - we perform three more times in the coming days to audiences excited by the spontaneity. Wheel concerts are booked across Europe and beyond throughout this anniversary year - they'll only get easier and more enjoyable.

It's hard to believe that as 11- and 12-year-olds back in 1972 we were creating something which would keep us busy for so many years to come. My brother Mike, Ian, Alex and I were as keen and eager for this incredible music as any teen band getting together in their dad's garage after school. Looking in my old diaries I witness the excitement I felt when we decided to learn a particular work, or traveling down to London for a competition we would raid the huge oak shelves of Foyle’s music department, spending our pocket money on expanding our library. Many years later when the new Barenreiter Edition of Beethoven landed on the doormat I felt the same sense of excitement - finally ensembles were being offered exceptional insight into these incredible works, freed from the delusions of earlier editions which sought to interpret Beethoven's detailed and specific markings, fabricating dynamics, bowings, articulation to the detriment of the music.
Shostakovich has been a huge part of our lives from the very beginning - No.11 being one of the first works we ever performed in ’72 - and we grew up as the later works were being written and premiered. When Paul joined in ’82 we gradually got all fifteen under our belts and gave our first complete cycle in the QEH in 1989, followed by recordings for Teldec. With Andrew’s and then Daniel’s arrival we have always kept these works close to our hearts - it is wonderful therefore that they will form part of our anniversary celebrations, with cycles over one weekend in several cities from London's King's Place to Sydney Opera House.
This anniversary season has been a whirlwind so far, with the launch of our exclusive contract with Chandos and the release of two cds as well as many exciting concerts. The first cd is a celebratory collection of our favourite encore arrangements, Petits Fours; the
second features Debussy’s wonderful quartet (possibly my favourite quartet of them all... yikes), the early Piano Trio and Danses Sacres et Profanes. To be joined by the fabulous Jean-Efflam Bavouzet, Sioned Willliams and Chris Laurence for this cd has been a treat. Over the years we’ve recorded for various labels, including our own, but now feel really settled in the Chandos stable and look forward to many exciting projects ahead.
We have several masterclass events lined up for the season too - have just visited Glasgow and Cardiff colleges, with some London ones to come in the spring, as well as Sweden, France and Holland.
Coming to the end of this busy period which started in Japan and ended in Madrid: I'm on a flight back home after performing in the Auditorio Nacional last night. Just had a fun time with the airport staff - walking towards the gate I am spotted by Paco, a ground crew member, who claims I'm an angel from heaven and perhaps I should play a tune for them while we wait for boarding to begin. This takes me back to times when mouthy bus drivers in Middlesbrough would see me struggling on board and shout "shoulda taken up the flute" or "gizza tune"... But this time it seems genuine and something makes me want to oblige. I take out my cello and play The Swan for him... he’s beside himself with joy, the staff and waiting passengers applaud, I ask for an upgrade... it’s granted!