"Does anybody have a copy of the evening's programme?" he asks looking hopefully at the crowd. A copy is given to him and Nigel screws up his face: "This is not quite what we have rehearsed, and we do not have the score! Forget the concert in D minor! What about Opus 3 no2 (?). There are three parts to it!" Nigel introduces his main partner, Daniel Stabrawa, who will be supporting him in most of the two violin pieces: "You can teach technique to anybody, but you can't teach special sounds, and Daniel makes special sounds!" The music meets expectations and the public is enthusiastic if still somewhat restrained.

The late comers sneak in. No chance of making it in unnoticed! Nigel encourages them to hurry up! The audience laughs! A small group approaches the front row. By now the public is silent. Nigel points to a brunette trying to sit down in the front row telling her that he is not going to remind her about protocol, but he going to let her know, whilst looking at the audience in a conspiratorial fashion, that she has missed the concert. The public becomes even more silent with a hushed embarrassment reminiscent of "oh my dear, we are late for assembly!" Nigel announces that "accompanied by the orchestra, he will repeat the third movement from this bar", he leans towards the brunette showing her the score and pointing to the bar in question with his bow. The public is ecstatic! We have not yet started the concert and we are getting an encore! The orchestra repeats the movement with great gusto, smiles beaming all over their faces.

Another Vivaldi piece follows and then he treats us to three pieces by Bach played with the dashing solo cello Olaf Maninger: numbers 1, 6 and 8. Quite appropriate as Bach did admire Vivaldi and also spent some time in Dresden. Number 6 is the most intense and deep, one particular movement never failing to bring tears to my eyes each time it is played!

We then have Bartok. Nigel likes Bartok! One piece reminds Nigel of his student's days when he was basking and made lots of money playing two particular bars over and over again. At the end of the piece a member of the public flicks a coin onto the stage. Nigel picks it up: "It is a euro, this is what the English are afraid of!" Nigel pockets the coin.

Those two bars are still having an effect!

Nigel announces that Miss Bielefeld has changed her career: she is now keeping her clothes on and she has also agreed to play a piece by Bartok with Nigel! "Yes, it is correct we are not supposed to finish together!" The public claps and her parents wave enthusiastically from the fourth row! Zoltan Armasi joins Nigel in another Bartok piece in Wuppertal: it was after all in a similar place that as a little boy he first heard these beautiful sounds. Nigel points to the small children in the audience who are sitting quietly entranced by the spectacle. Perhaps, who knows!

Back to Vivaldi with a concert in A minor! Again there are three parts! At the end Nigel asks the public if they want the last movement repeated faster, much faster? Yes, please! Nigel smiles: "You like to see people suffer!" A member of the orchestra pleads with him: "Not too fast!" They all perform again. As the public clamours for more, Nigel wishes each one, be it a lady, a gentleman, a child or another person, to be the first at the bar.

The public exits to the hall in a pleasant daze whilst a gentleman behind me remarks smiling warmly and affectionately: "He is nuts!" After the interval, we return to the concert hall. Nigel explains about the Four Seasons whilst entering into a discussion with a member of the public in the front row who thought Nigel was talking about a four cheese pizza! Nigel reminds him that if he is hungry he has some fifty minutes to wait until the end of the concert before eating and advises him to book a table using his mobile! Having said this Nigel turns to the orchestra and Springs starts without further ado!

Nigel is a closet stage manager and before the next season starts, whilst the public drowns any talk by Nigel clapping, Nigel rearranges the music stands, the musicians: there is a particular place in the stage where he likes to stand: it makes chamber music sound better! Nigel's interaction with the orchestra is palpably captivating: he dances flirting with individual instruments, unlocking the cuckoo's voice, and coxing the dove and the goldfinch to sing in unison. The breeze follows&ldots;Nigel slides from side to side on the stage&ldots;

One never knows whether to keep one's eyes shut and let the sounds create images in one's head or whether to watch the stage and be exhilarated by the flirting of the instruments. The artists are so in tune with each other that they not only generate a delightful sound but also a warm and transporting spectacle.

Eventually Winter finishes and after a few seconds of silence the public claps, stamps its feet&ldots;Nigel exists and as the stamping gets louder and more frantic, Nigel returns. The violin is poised, silence falls, the bow lifts, Nigel lowers the violins, leans over, laughs&ldots;he forgot to tells us what piece he was going to play!

Nigel explains that in London there is a house with two plaques, a blue one referring to Handel and a purple one referring to Jimi Hendrix. Both are naturalised English composers, which is the best one? Nigel also tells us that on one particular occasion, whilst in an aeroplane, Hendrix saw another plane in the sky. Buddy Holly was flying in the other plane. Hendrix remarked, looking at the other plane: "Eh Joe (but that is another story!) look at that purple haze!"

The orchestra, with great gusto, like a platoon throwing up in the air their hats at the end passing out parade, starts playing the first bars of Purple Haze. The public is stunned. Memories came flooding back to me of the first time I heard Nigel when, in the Festival Hall, he was performing the same piece with some heavy sessioners like John Etheridge and Rory MacFarlane! The public smiles, heads beating to the rhythm&ldots;

Nigel walks about the stage serenading members of the orchestra and then he jumps off the stage and walks amongst the public, sitting next to some members of the public, whilst all the time serenading them&ldots;The orchestra continues to play the base notes&ldots; Nigel returns to the stage and tired of being on his feet swaps places with a viola&ldots; Nigel eventually joins the viola on centre stage and they play together&ldots; The music becomes more erratic and frantic until the violin takes over to restore the rhythm&ldots; Nigel then commands with his violin the orchestra on its feet and, like a clucking hen to her chicks, whilst they all are still playing, he ushers them off the stage&ldots; The public is even more ecstatic than before and this time it needs no encouragement to stand up and stamp its feet!

This is the end of the concert. We see a final appearance by the whole orchestra making their final bow. The public starts to leave the concert hall. A solitary Nigel returns to the stage and starts playing a most soulful rendition of Danny Boy (I think). The public stops, some sit down and some girls sit on the chaps' lap, heads leaning against each other, arms round each other&ldots; The last notes rise to the ceiling and disappear. Nobody stirs. Oh, Nigel boy! Our boy!