‘Everybody’s playing like their life depends upon it’

Violinist Joshua Bell chats with Pauline Harding about transcending the pyrotechnics of Paganini, the inspiring ethos of the Academy of St Martin in the Fields, and celebrations to mark the centenary of the orchestra’s founder, Neville Marriner

Joshua Bell and the Academy of St Martin in the Fields on tour in Australia

Joshua Bell’s facial expression seems to challenge the players of the Academy of St Martin in the Fields (ASMF) as he leads them into Paganini’s First Violin Concerto. As director of the orchestra, he takes the role of conductor and soloist. His bow and 1713 ‘Huberman’ Stradivari violin bob gently in his left hand while his body and right arm gesticulate softly at first, then more dynamically as the music stomps and tiptoes into full, singing phrases. The players are smiling, united by a buzzing energy. As the music dances towards the first solo entry, Bell blows on his left hand, passes his bow into his right, and shifts his stance.

Like a mage wielding a staff, he lunges towards the orchestra to draw out some accented chords, before making a seamless transformation from conductor to soloist. Plenty of violinistic pyrotechnics follow, but they are incidental to Bell’s operatic lines. The orchestra’s interjections are subtle and sensitive. These are clearly chamber musicians, not disillusioned rank-and-file players. Their countenance and body language suggest a deep, familial connection. It’s June 2023 and they’re dressed informally, surrounded by microphones at Air Studios in London, to record this and Paganini’s ‘La campanella’ (from Violin Concerto no.2) for release by Sony in the 2024–25 season. When they play, though, all distractions of instrument cases, bright lights and microphones blur into the background of their music making.

Bell tells me, some months later, that he first performed this concerto when he was 13 years old and studying with Josef Gingold. To record it now, in his midfifties, is meaningful to him at a time when he feels that Paganini’s music has become fodder for fearless young prodigies. Most established violinists, he laments, prefer to indulge in the likes of Beethoven, Brahms and contemporary repertoire. ‘Paganini, Wieniawski and Vieuxtemps used to be the bread and butter of players like Heifetz and Francescatti,’ he says. ‘Now people think their music is just technical fireworks, but there’s much more to it.’ That said, he confesses that sometimes even he wonders if Paganini is too much for him. ‘I start to play, and I think, “Wait, am I just too old for this?”’ he laughs. ‘Technically, what am I putting myself through? Because it is very demanding.’

Joshua Bell (back row, third from left) in Josef Gingold’s class at Indiana University

ASMF PHOTO PETER WALLIS

One message that Gingold – a student of Ysaÿe, who was a student of Wieniawski – imprinted in Bell’s mind is that these pieces should never be underestimated. To Gingold they were like sacred hymns, among the greatest pieces ever written. Bell did not agree with his teacher about everything: he didn’t like his choice of the Sauret cadenza for the Paganini Concerto, for example, with its ‘gratuitous technical challenges’. Replacing the Sauret with his own cadenza, which he is ‘very, very happy with’, has, though, given Bell an even more profound connection to the music. ‘Everybody has to find their place,’ he says. ‘There are other people who can play Berg or Schoenberg better than I can, with a more convincing interpretation, but with some of this older repertoire, I think I have a lot to offer. As an adult, I understand it in a much deeper way than I did when I was younger. Now I think that this Paganini is a masterpiece.’

So, what is the secret to drawing out Paganini’s operatic lyricism? The answer, says Bell, is to ‘toss off’ the technical difficulties so that the music sounds easy. Once you can do that, he says, ‘the music is very emotionally compelling. The slow movement is incredibly powerful. And the last movement has wit and charm, like Rossini or Mozart. You really have to phrase and sing.’ Of course, this is not something that many violinists achieve with music as difficult as Paganini’s. But then Bell – with numerous award-winning recordings, collaborations with world-famous orchestras and performances for three American presidents under his belt – is no ‘ordinary’ violinist.

Part of Bell’s extraordinariness comes through a dissatisfaction with his own playing that keeps him striving for self-betterment. ‘I can’t bear to listen to performances of myself on the radio, because it’s so painful to hear,’ he says. ‘It’s never as good as I’d thought. But it’s precisely that pain I should seek out, because of what it exposes.’ When he was younger, he would record whole movements at once, several times over. Nowadays, he finds that exhausting, and so, if a piece’s architecture allows it, he records in segments, re-recording any that he finds unsatisfactory while previous attempts are still fresh in his mind. He found this approach perfect for Paganini, because of the music’s episodic nature. The editing process is still to come, though, and he isn’t looking forward to it. ‘We recorded it back in the summer, and I felt pretty good about it afterwards,’ he says. ‘It’s been in the can since then, so I’m a little bit afraid to start listening now.’ It is when listening to a recording repeatedly during the editing process, he says, that ‘I learn so much musically about the way I played technically, about things I didn’t even realise I was doing’. Often, when this happens, he wants to scrap everything and head back into the recording studio.

‘I CAN’T BEAR TO LISTEN TO PERFORMANCES OF MYSELF ON THE RADIO. IT’S SO PAINFUL TO HEAR. BUT IT’S PRECISELY THAT PAIN I SHOULD SEEK OUT’

Getting the most from Paganini is not, of course, only about work as a soloist. This is where Bell’s relationship with ASMF comes in. It was in 1958 that Neville Marriner (1924–2016) – whose centenary ASMF celebrates this April – founded the ensemble in his living room. For Marriner, the action was a gentle rebellion against the dictatorial conductors of his life as principal second violinist of the London Symphony Orchestra. By gradually introducing more like-minded players, he grew his band into a small chamber orchestra. ASMF gave its first public performance in 1959, taking its name from the concert venue: London’s church of St Martin-in-the-Fields. Numerous recordings followed, the first recorded in 1961 and released the following year, bringing new vibrancy to works by composers including Handel, Haydn and Corelli, and propelling ASMF and Marriner to fame. Their 1984 recording of music by Mozart for the Amadeus film soundtrack, for which Marriner was music supervisor, has sold more 6.5 million copies.

Bell with the musicians of the Academy of St Martin in the Fields

BENJAMIN EALOVEGA

And so it was that Bell, born in 1967, grew up when ASMF and Marriner dominated the classical airwaves. As a child in Bloomington, Indiana, he frequently heard them playing on his parents’ radio. The first CD he bought was of their Mozart Requiem. He loved it so much that he used it as a wake-up alarm. ‘For a good year in my teens, I woke up every morning to Neville’s Mozart Requiem,’ he laughs. ‘I know it sounds morbid, because technically it’s about death. But death is also life – they’re intertwined. And for me it was beautiful and life-affirming.’

Bell and the ASMF perform at the Sydney Opera House

Before Bell had even had the opportunity to hear Marriner and ASMF live, he was signed by Decca and thrust into a studio with them in December 1986 (the month he turned 19) to record the Bruch and Mendelssohn concertos. ‘There was no concert, or rehearsal, or anything,’ he says. ‘They just put me in a room, introduced me to Neville Marriner, the red light was turned on, and we started playing. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t ideal! But Neville knew what he wanted, and he was very relaxed and adept at recording. So I took his lead, and frankly I don’t remember much more about it. It’s a bit of a blur.’ It was only from the early 2000s that Bell really got to know Marriner and ASMF, though. Over that decade, they played Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, Bell directed an occasional symphony, and they collaborated on tour. ‘By the time they asked me to be their music director in 2011, we were already family,’ he says.

This gradual initiation allowed Bell to shape his own path as an orchestra-directing violinist, which was something new to him. ‘I sit on a slightly higher chair, and I find my moments to play,’ he says. ‘Sometimes I sit out and direct with my hands – although I’ve been aiming to foster a sense of everybody leading, feeling contact with each other and not looking at a conductor’s stick. I want them to stretch the limits, to strive for colours that they might not have tried before in pieces that they’ve done a lot. I want them to feel a sense of “do or die”. That’s the kind of orchestral playing I like, where everybody’s playing like their life depends upon it.’ This way, Bell hopes that ASMF will never be weighed down by the repetitive habits that sully even great orchestras. ‘The Academy doesn’t have that feeling of cynicism or laziness that is so common in bigger orchestras,’ he says. ‘And cynicism is a form of laziness, I find, because it takes energy to infuse a sense of wonder into music making. One reason why I love the Academy is that there’s an honesty to the way the musicians play, and they always want to do better. I think a lot of that has come from Neville.’

ASMF PHOTO JAY PATEL

‘I WANT THEM TO STRETCH THE LIMITS, TO STRIVE FOR COLOURS THAT THEY MIGHT NOT HAVE TRIED BEFORE. I WANT THEM TO FEEL A SENSE OF “DO OR DIE”’

ASMF’s attentive and energetic spirit has been particularly important to Bell while recording the Paganini. ‘The concerto is basically an opera for the violin and orchestra, so the players really have to be on their toes,’ he says. ‘After so many years of working together, they know my body language very well. They know how I draw my bow, and what it means when I make certain gestures. It still blows my mind how they’re able to follow and play together without a conductor. So many of the problems I’ve had with conductors and orchestras just disappear when I’m with them, because they listen and play like chamber musicians.’

BELL PHOTO BENJAMIN EALOVEGA. MARRINER PHOTO COURTESY OF ACADEMY OF ST MARTIN IN THE FIELDS

‘PLAYERS USED TO JOKE THAT IF YOU WERE GOOD AT CRICKET, YOU’D HAVE A BETTER CHANCE OF WORKING WITH NEVILLE’

That Bell enjoys working with ASMF so much is just as well, given a packed schedule that will see them performing in 16 US cities during March and April. Immediately afterwards they head to London for a series of concerts to celebrate Marriner’s centenary. The festivities begin at the church of St Martin-in-the-Fields on 15 April, which would have been Marriner’s 100th birthday. There is much for Bell to look forward to, including performing for the first time at the church that gave ASMF its name. There he will direct Mozart’s Symphony no.25 in G minor, as a nod to the Amadeus soundtrack. The following night he will lead repertoire including Mendelssohn’s Octet in E flat major, his ‘desertisland piece and the most glorious piece I can think of’, at Wigmore Hall, one of his favourite concert venues.

Finally, at the Royal Festival Hall on 18 April he will direct a Mozart medley from the Amadeus soundtrack, interspersed with readings about Marriner’s life. He’ll perform Saint-Saëns’s Introduction et Rondo capriccioso, as he did for Marriner’s 90th-birthday celebrations at the same venue ten years beforehand. A new concerto for violin and jazz drums by US composer Vince Mendoza will be performed by Bell and Douglas Marriner, Neville’s grandson, whom Bell calls ‘a very talented jazz percussionist and drummer’. To end, Bell will direct Brahms’s Second Symphony, which usually he only hears other orchestras play after he’s finished a concerto. ‘Now I finally get to delve into it on my own terms and I just can’t wait for the rehearsals,’ he says. ‘It’s a piece that’s really about celebration. Even Brahms couldn’t get over how beautiful it was, from what I’ve read in his letters. It’s a perfect piece to end the programme, as a joyous remembrance of Neville’s life.’

To bring that life alive even for audiences who may not have known Marriner (right), the centenary celebrations include an exhibition of photographs, tributes, record sleeves, awards and memorabilia at St Martin-in-the-Fields Church for a month from 15 April. ASMF will also celebrate its ongoing work with the homeless, which began under Marriner 25 years ago and continues through The Connection at St Martin-in-the-Fields. To mark this anniversary, ASMF has collaborated with homeless people and students at the Royal Academy of Music to create a Soundwalk app. This will play spoken and music tracks at specific points during a walk around Trafalgar Square, just outside St Martin-in-the-Fields Church, to tell the tales of homelessness that people have experienced there. After the London events, the ASMF concludes the celebrations by heading to Marriner’s home town of Lincoln on 24 April to play some of the violinist–conductor’s favourite works, including music by Handel and Vaughan Williams, at the cathedral.

All these experiences will conjure Marriner the man, renowned not only for his music making, but also for his kindness, wit, energy and boundless passion for cricket – a game that, I confess to Bell, I find incredibly boring. ‘But, oh!’ laughs Bell, ‘with that attitude you would never have got into the orchestra, because the Academy had a cricket team, and Neville was on it. Players used to joke that if you were good at cricket, you’d have a better chance of working with him.’

Marriner loved magic, too, and for his 90th birthday invited guests including Bell to a magic show. ‘He was an English gentleman and a fascinating character,’ says Bell. ‘The musicians always have kind words to say about him, and always with a smile. To me, that says a lot. He had an incredible life. I played in a concert with him when he was 90 years old – he conducted Elgar’s Enigma Variations, and it was amazing. Just seeing that inspired me. I hope that I can still conduct and play my violin when I’m 90.’