I like the big gestures of Mahler, the rawness of Shostakovich, the unabashed heart on sleeve writing of Tchaikovsky, and for me, Debussy's music has always seemed a little too intangible, a little too diaphanous. I often find myself a little overwhelmed by what can sound like a wall of sound, an orchestral wash of colours.

Approaching Images this week has been something of a revelation for me. François has an amazing way of breaking the music down so that you can hear all the layers of the music (and being Debussy, the layers are many), building it up bit by bit to create the whole picture.

This is so helpful, as it means you understand exactly where your line fits in and your ear learns what it can latch on to. The end result is that, rather than being a wishy-washy, airy-fairy, sensuous melee of Frenchness, the music can blossom forth with all the subtlety and nuances needed to make this style of music successful.

Debussy's scores are always so explicitly marked. In one bar of four notes, you can often have four different articulation marks over each individual note. It can often feel like information overload, and there can be the temptation to gloss over some of the details. The problem with that is, while you will still get the general gist of what it sounds like, you miss the crucial details that give the music its character, and you can also adulterate what the music is really supposed to be saying.

Glossing over is strictly prohibited in François' rehearsals. Any attempts to do so are normally met with "Ah, my very dears, do you not see in your score that this is different from the note that came before? Why you no play this?"

I guess the thing with Debussy's music is that it is a subtler style of writing than the music of the German romantics whose music I love so much, or the Russians whose music thrills my mind. With Debussy, the devil really is in the detail, and I think this is the first time I've really full grasped that. I have found myself really challenged to capture every nuance in the score, and, as a result, am enjoying Images in a way that I have never enjoyed playing Debussy before. I can honestly say I get it now.

My goodness, it is hard work though. My brain feels full up. I feel slightly cross eyed, slightly overwrought, I definitely have a slightly furrowed brow and I could do with a coffee!

The orchestra performs Debussy's Images at Cardiff's St David's Hall on Friday, and Swansea's Brangwyn Hall on Saturday. For tickets and more information, call 0800 052 1812.

The students win their places by competitive audition, in much the same manner that each of us have won our jobs. The successful students take part in rehearsals throughout the year, sitting beside members of the orchestra. The opportunity to work with the orchestra gives students an intimate insight into working life.

Firstly, it demonstrates how prepared your music must be before the first rehearsal. In my first year of Ulster Youth Orchestra, I thought it was good enough to give the music a cursory glance before rehearsals began. Surely rehearsals were the time when you learnt all the notes? Wrong! Lessons were quickly learnt on that course.

As all of the violas appeared to have the seem attitude as me, the conductor made us play, desk by desk, a particularly nasty viola passage in front of the whole orchestra. In a subsequent course the late Mike Cookson asked if I knew which instrument the violas played a particular passage alongside. I did not, and he kindly pointed out to me that, although I could play the notes, I did not know the music. He was right.

While it is seldom that a conductor will pick out individual string players to play passages in front of all their colleagues, the point is that you probably should be able to if you were asked to, and you should know where in the grand scheme of the music your line fits in. In order to lift the music to a high standard, you simply have to know the music thoroughly before you arrive for rehearsal.

In addition to this, the scheme gives students the opportunity to hone their awareness skills. In the orchestra a lot is done within sections without much being said. You are supposed to keep an eye on the music, an eye on your principal, an eye on the leader of the orchestra and an eye on the conductor. Now, I'm rubbish at maths, but that's too many eyes, but all the same, you have to get quick at doing it.

As the summer term wears on, with the summer break itself approaching (someone might like to remind the weather of that fact), the colleges will all be gearing up for final recitals. Students will be frantically practising their recital programmes, with the final year and postgraduate students hoping to demonstrate to the examining panels the culmination of what they have learnt during their studies. This is a stressful time for students; it can feel like the rest of your life is dependent upon you not messing up that shift, not splitting that note.

I would like to wish all the students who have worked with us all the very best for their recitals and for the future.

The orchestra presents a programme of Debussy and Shostakovich at Cardiff's St David's Hall on Friday 25 May, and Swansea's Brangwyn Hall on Saturday 26 May. For more information and tickets, call 0800 052 1812.

This, and a host of other ear problems, are a problem in the classical music world. In my own practice, if I have repeatedly practised a particularly high, loud passage, I am conscious of discomfort in my ears - and that is nothing to do with dodgy intonation or screechy strings, thank you very much. I am often very thankful not to be a piccolo player when in a practice room. If there can be discomfort with just one person playing, how much worse can it be with multiple musicians playing?

When we rehearse music of a particularly bombastic nature, for example a Mahler or Bruckner symphony, or something very contemporary with an abundance of loud, jarring dissonances, I often feel that the silence on leaving the studio is very loud. Sometimes, I get a slight ringing in my ears, but thankfully for me, this is not a continuous sensation.

When I was young, my parents, quite rightly, were continually telling me to turn the volume down in my headphones. Alas, in work it is impossible to do that and you can't walk away from the noise in the way that you can move away from speakers at a gig or festival.

As musicians, our livelihood is somewhat dependent on our ability to hear satisfactorily and, therefore, we have to do what we can to minimise the damage inflicted on our hearing. This is often a compromise and involves a fair bit of trial and error.

On stage you frequently see little perspex screens behind various players' heads. These screens are supposed to protect the player from the sound levels coming from behind them, but often have the adverse effect of simply throwing that noise back to the colleague from which it is emitting, therefore placing their hearing at greater risk also. We have been experimenting with screens of different shapes and materials in work, but I don't know if there has been a conclusion reached yet. We're continuing to work with the orchestra's management to try and find a solution that works for everyone.

In the BBC National Orchestra of Wales we all have fancy-pants earplugs created from moulds of our ears, but I personally still do not find them particularly comfortable. I'm trying to persevere with them. Earplugs can sometimes make it difficult to hear either yourself, or the delicate nuances called for, and I personally hate feeling that I'm not catching all the details I should. However, better that than burgeoning hearing problems, I guess.

February saw British Tinnitus Awareness Week and now, Action on Hearing Loss' Loud Music Campaign aims to raise awareness about hearing health. Perhaps it is time for all of us to really start thinking about the health of our ears.

The orchestra presents an afternoon of Brahms, Mozart and Hindemith tonight (Wednesday 16 May) from 2pm, at BBC Hoddinott Hall in Cardiff Bay. For more information and tickets, call 0800 052 1812.

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With music it is very much the same. What was down with the kids in Bach's time was so out of vogue by Beethoven's time that it was almost fashionable again.

This year's Vale of Glamorgan Festival has highlighted works that have not just challenged what I see as 'good' music or 'not so good' music by the yardstick of our western sensibilities, but has also made me question what I believe to be beautiful in music.

One of the works by Qigang Chen, Iris Devoilée, mixes traditional Chinese instruments with our traditional western orchestral instruments, and mixes a voice of the Beijing Opera with two western operatic singers.

In rehearsal, the first entry of the Beijing Opera soprano was really quite a shock. This is singing like nothing found in the western canon, but that does not mean it has not its own beauty. The range is quite unique, the form of ornamentation completely alien to our ears, and the tone is very different from the carefully crafted, rounded tones considered desirous and beautiful by western operatic singing.

Once you allow your ear to grow accustomed to the Beijing style however, it is eerily expressive and other worldly, in a way not often found on the stages of our great opera houses. For this alone, I think Friday's concert is worth a nosey!

Also featured in this work are three traditional Chinese instruments - the pipa, the ehru and the zheng. The one that looks a little like a skinny, stunted cello is my favourite: the ehru. I cannot for the life of me figure out where all the sound comes from that it manages to produce; unlike the big resonating chamber of a cello, or viola, it has instead this little barrel-like structure. Years ago, in Cambodia I tried my hand (exceptionally unsuccessfully) at a similar Khmer instrument, called a tro, and I can confirm that not only is it very difficult to play in tune, but it is also very difficult to make a beautiful sound.

Thankfully for all concerned, I shall be sticking to the viola for this concert. We will also be performing Chen's Reflect d'un Temps Disparu for solo cello and orchestra, with soloist Li-Wei Qin. This piece has lots of interesting effects for the strings.

The concert will also feature another work by Philip Glass, The Olympian (it is, in fact, an Olympian effort to get all the repeat bars and da capos and 'go to the codas' right) and Iris by Per Nørgärd.

The Vale of Glamorgan Festival closes tonight (Friday 11 May) with a concert by the Orchestra at BBC Hoddinott Hall, 7pm. For tickets and more information, call 03700 101051.

It's not just that you spend the year learning millions of notes, it's also that you spend an incredible amount of time trying to be, for want of a better way of putting it, better. You practice, and you criticise, and you analyse your playing, and as I've said before, it is the only way to continue improving and developing.

I used to pray that one magical day, the secret to perfect intonation, an infallible sense of rhythm and flawless bow technique would be revealed to me, like scales falling off a man's eyes in a biblical parable. The truth is, there is no secret, just a lot of hard, constant, work.

However, when you are tired and feeling overworked, the constant light that you shine upon your playing can bring all your insecurities into very sharp focus - why can't I play F naturals in tune? Why do I keep dropping my arm like a lead weight in down bows? Why does my viola feel like an actual shoe box jammed under my chin? I personally can at times get myself so wound up that I feel utterly paralysed by negative thoughts about my own playing.

Everyone is aware that you need to look after yourself physically as a musician. I love a good sports massage to loosen the inevitable knots that come from playing the viola, and try to see my favourite practitioner regularly in the hope of avoiding injury. I have poor circulation, so if there is even a slight chill in the air, I wear gloves or arm warmers.

We become sensitive to the smallest changes in our physicality, and seek help from physiotherapists immediately a problem becomes apparent. For some reason, I have always found looking after the mental side of my musical wellbeing much harder. I often feel guilty if I don't practice, like I'm some kind of fraud.

It is for this precise reason that it is important to learn to switch off. In the Orchestra, everyone has their own way of doing this. Some people develop a penchant for Lycra and running inhumane distances. Some people pursue Open University studies. We have keen photographers, foodies, wine connoisseurs, people in bands.

It has taken me a stupid amount of time to realise that it is as important to take time away from the instrument, as it is to spend every waking minute thinking about it. It's not an excuse to avoid practising or to be lazy, but just as an athlete must rest between training sessions, we also need to give ourselves time to rest.

The 2012 Vale of Glamorgan Festival will celebrate the 75th birthday of American composer Philip Glass, the 80th birthday of Danish composer Per Nörgård, and will highlight the music of Chinese composer Qigang Chen.

As a student, a contemporary score used to send me into the depths of despair, panic and horror. Sometimes they still do. However, now I try to rely on four simple steps to get me through:

1. Don't panic

This is pretty self-explanatory, but often easier said than done. Panicking never got anyone anywhere - especially if they played the viola and were confronted with a passage that involved treble clef and multiple leger lines at a very fast tempo.

2. Take careful note of all the performance directions

There are occasions when you open a score and there will be several pages of instructions before you even get to the music. Though often dull to wade through, this can make your life a lot easier come rehearsal time.

It is also worthwhile taking time to look at all the performance directions in the score itself as you are frequently asked to play your instrument in a manner not necessarily explored in mainstream repertoire. Sometimes, even after you've done all this, you still don't know what is being asked for - that is then the job of the conductor to make an artistic decision regarding what may be required, or, if the composer is present, they will explain what effect they are looking for.

3. Mark your part carefully

By this, as a string player, I do not mean write loads of fingerings in indelible ink into your part (at least not without first consulting your desk partner). However, to me there is no shame in writing little reminders to yourself regarding mutes, rhythms etc. There is often enough to think about when performing contemporary music - you need to look for any opportunity to make life easier!

4. The metronome is your friend

The contemporary music of today often has exceptionally complex rhythmic patterns - the sort that make you feel like you are having a meltdown if you think about them for too long. I always practice this type of music with a metronome. If I don't, I just get stressed, headachy and really very grumpy.

The festival promises to be a real fusion of east meets west. I'm particularly intrigued by our second concert, which features several instruments I've never heard of before. Do come along, out of the utterly miserable weather, and try something new!

The BBC National Orchestra of Wales will be performing at BBC Hoddinott Hall, as part of the Vale of Glamorgan Festival, on Friday 4 May and Friday 11 May. For more information and to book tickets, call 029 2039 1391.

This week's concert in Swansea's Brangwyn Hall, entitled Youthful Genius, has a number of interesting features. Firstly, in the Brahms Serenade No 2, we violas will once again prove that we are perfectly capable of coping without the violins telling us what to do. Scored for a standard orchestra, minus violins and brass (although the horns are included), it is, in some ways, an odd work. However, although it includes a movement that may possibly give the entire viola section tendonitis (see if you can spot which movement it is), the musical language is very typically Brahms. I am quite a fan of Brahms generally.

My second interesting fact about this week's programme is that two of the works were composed by two of our most loved composers when they were only young whippersnappers.

Strauss was only 18 when he composed his first horn concerto, probably for his famous horn playing father. Shostakovich was only 19 when he composed his first symphony as his graduation piece from the Leningrad Conservatory.

I find the youth of the composers at the time of these works composition quite incredible, especially with regard to the Shostakovich. All the hallmarks of his later style and musical language are already apparent in this early symphony. It is really very dark in places.

There is one bit of passage work in the second movement of the Shostakovich that I have been struggling a little with. I feel that unless I concentrate 200%, and refrain from blinking for its duration, I am in danger of either getting the bowing right (it involves a lot of up bows in funny places), or getting the notes right (it just doesn't 'lie' nicely), but not both. I will just keep practising it calmly with my metronome until it is secure!

The third interesting feature of this concert is our guest conductor, Giancarlo Guerrero. Now the orchestra's website describes him as a 'dynamic Costa Rican' conductor, but I think that is perhaps something of an understatement. He has such enthusiasm and passion for the music that he almost sweeps you along with him.

In rehearsals today, I genuinely forgot about all the notes I had to learn, I stopped stressing about that annoying bit in the Shostakovich and I really enjoyed making music in the Brahms. To me, that is a sign of a good conductor - someone who can make you leave your cares at the studio door, and enjoy making music.

The BBC National Orchestra of Wales performs at Swansea's Brangwyn Hall tomorrow (Friday 27 April), starting at 7.30pm. Tickets are available by calling the Grand Theatre Box Office on 01792 475715, or from the door.

It is always disappointing when something like this happens - for the players who have spent their Easter break learning the incredibly challenging parts, and especially for the composer - but these things do happen. The immediate result is a flurry of activity. A replacement, or replacement work, has to be found, players rescheduled or booked, rehearsals reorganised.

And so it came to pass that, after all my smugness, the violas are playing in both halves of last Friday's concert after all. As Simon's The Yellow Wallpaper was a commission that would be premièred in Friday evening's concert, it was impossible to find another singer to take Ms Milne's place, so unfortunately it had to be dropped from the programme altogether. Fortunately Lisa was well enough to sing the relatively short last movement of Mahler's Fourth Symphony (she sung the movement with Utah Symphony Orchestra and Thierry Fischer just a couple of weeks ago) - and she performed it beautifully.

Instead of Simon Holt's work, we played Haydn's Symphony 104. We performed this work on our recent north Wales tour, so it was still fresh in our memories. We had a quick rehearsal of the work with principal conductor, Thierry Fischer, as each conductor will have their own interpretation of the work. For example, Thierry likes Haydn played completely without vibrato, whereas when we last played it, the conductor had asked for a little bit of vibrato. It sounds like such a small thing, but it does make a difference.

The second half of the concert remained unchanged and was my first performance of Mahler's Fourth Symphony! I'm a huge fan of Mahler. I know some people find his music over the top, overly self-indulgent, a bit too like an overly rich dessert, but I genuinely could listen to the symphonies and sing cycles all day.

The Fourth contains the song Das Himmlische Leben which is a child's vision of heaven. Surprisingly, this was also Mahler's starting point for the gargantuan Third Symphony and so, while they couldn't be more different in scope, the Third Symphony (which I actually shed a little tear in when we performed it last season - that last movement!) and the Fourth Symphony are intimately related.

Conductor Kenneth Woods in his blog A View From The Podium expresses it brilliantly when he writes "we have two symphonies... made of the same musical DNA - it's like a pair of siblings, or even fraternal twins - they are made of the same genes, but they grow up to be completely dissimilar people".

As a player, Mahler is always a demanding play. There are always lots of performance directions and subtle changes of tempo and character. In rehearsal, I suffered a terrible attack of brain freeze and lack of co-ordination and kept putting my mute on when the score read dampfer ab (mute off) and taking it off when it said dampfer auf (mute on). Thankfully normal brain function was regained by the concert!

The BBC Proms are to classical music what Glastonbury is to rock, and they are one of the highlights of my musical year. I love the buzz of excitement that surrounds the Albert Hall. I love the queues of Promenaders who queue with seemingly infinite reserves of patience rain, hail, or shine, to get tickets on the day.

I don't love the coach journeys to and from London, but until I've mastered the use of The Force I'll just have to deal with that.

This season we will perform in four Proms concerts, two of which will be broadcast on TV (my grandmother will be glued to the screen, just in case there is a fleeting shot of me), all of which can be heard live on BBC Radio 3.

Our Prom on Monday 6 August promises to be quite a spectacle, and after last year's Havergal Brian Gothic Symphony, I do not use the word spectacle lightly! In this concert, we will perform Bernstein's Mass - its first ever complete Proms performance - a work described by the Proms website as 'less a religious work than a theatrical happening'. However, what makes this Prom so special is that we will be joined by musicians from the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama, young singers from across south Wales, the National Youth Orchestra of Wales and the National Youth Choir of Wales.

I, and a great many of my colleagues, discovered our love of music and performing through our national youth orchestras, and this year each of the United Kingdom's Youth Orchestras will feature in the Proms alongside one of their 'grown up' counterparts.

My first experience of playing in a professional scenario was in a side-by-side project between the Ulster Orchestra and the Ulster Youth Orchestra in a performance of Stravinsky's Rite of Spring with its then concertmaster Lesley Hatfield and Principal Conductor Thierry Fischer!

I think this will be an immensely exciting project. We actually have a few preparatory sessions with the young musicians this weekend - our principals will take sectional rehearsals and there will be a few tutti rehearsals also. This is an opportunity for us to work with today's young musicians, an opportunity for them to work alongside professionals, and an opportunity for them to experience the excitement and spirit of being a performer at the Proms.

Moreover, in my opinion, it is an opportunity for the Great British public to see the great, and exceedingly necessary role that our national youth orchestras play, especially in the current climate when many of them are increasingly feeling the financial pinch.

Obviously, in this Olympic year, Proms aren't the only big event happening in London this summer, but to me, they are still the best.

Explore the full programme of events at this year's BBC Proms by visiting bbc.co.uk/prom

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Our first week back is decidedly stress free, with just the heavenly Mahler 4 to prepare beforehand. What? What is that mumble I hear from other parts of the Orchestra? Do speak up chaps! It's not just Mahler 4? Ah yes, there is a brand spanking new work by our Composer-in-Association, Simon Holt, that features... no violas!

Please do not think that in anyway I am being dismissive - I am just enjoying a brief moment of smugness. In the 2010 Proms season we performed Simon's 'a table of noises', a percussion concerto for Colin Currie. There were no violins involved in the work at all, and many of my violin playing colleagues were rather (very) smug about going to enjoy another coffee, or a walk round South Kensington, whilst we violas, cellos and basses (and of course our windy, brassy colleagues also) sweated our way through what was really a very difficult, if groovy, score. I have not forgotten their smugness.

Simon's new work The Yellow Wallpaper is a commission by Radio 3, and is the last of his works in his tenure as Composer-in-Association. It features the gorgeous voice of Lisa Milne, and a number of other female vocalists dotted through the orchestra. With a libretto by poet David Harsent (who, incidentally, also composed the libretto for Birtwistle's 'The Minotaur' which I cried at the end of because I felt sorry for the Minotaur), Holt's work takes its inspiration from a novella by American feminist writer, Charlotte Perkins Gilman.

The Yellow Wallpaper was a work that I was aware of, but had never quite got round to reading. A bit like my dust covered copy of War And Peace, but feminist. However, I rectified the situation over annual leave (by reading The Yellow Wallpaper, not War & Peace).

It is an exceptionally uncomfortable read; set in the late 1800s, through a series of journal entries, it tells the story of a woman's dissent into probable insanity due to the ridiculous, though at the time perfectly normal, treatment she receives for postpartum depression. It is claustrophobic and as a modern reader, it is horrific to read what the protagonist is put through. It made me feel exceptionally uncomfortable, in the same way that James' Turn Of The Screw gave me a horrible gnawing feeling in my stomach for days after I first read it.

I really am interested to see how Simon brings this work to life. Music gives us the ability to express the lightest and darkest areas of the human soul and this work really does expose some of the very darkest corners.

The Orchestra will be performing Simon Holt's The Yellow Wallpaper and Mahler's Symphony No 4 at St David's Hall, Cardiff, on Friday 20 April, 7.30pm. For tickets and information, call the Orchestra's Audience Line on 0800 052 1812.

This afternoon's concert with associate guest conductor François-Xavier Roth is part of our ongoing Sacher Series and will see us perform this incredible work by Béla Bartók live on BBC Radio 3. Our colleagues in the wind and brass will perform Stravinsky's Symphonies of Wind Instruments and we will be joined by pianist Benjamin Grosvenor for Beethoven's Third Piano Concerto.

It is only Wednesday, but I'm feeling decidedly tired. Perhaps mentally taxed is a better turn of phrase, because despite a great deal of conscientious prior preparation, Bartók's Music for Strings, Celeste and Percussion is still very difficult.

There are many issues with this work. Firstly, it is exceptionally complex in texture. There can be the temptation to overplay just to hear what you are playing, which of course has the result of thickening the texture further. During rehearsals, François has spent a considerable amount of time working passages (in particular in the energetic second and fourth movements) under tempo, encouraging us to listen and connect with other lines, rather than playing as individual musical islands, in order to bring clarity to the score. It sounds obvious doesn't it? In practice, it can sometimes be quite challenging.

Secondly, as two string orchestras, we are very spread out. If you wait for the sound to come from another section, you will invariably be late. Therefore, you have to play exactly with the conductor's beat, even if your ear is telling you that means you're going to be early.

The third issue with this work is that it is simply difficult. There are so many possibilities to make a catastrophic error if you switch off for just one second. The first movement looks so simple on the page, but misread the crotchet/quaver pattern and the uniformity of each section is disrupted.

The second movement is very fiddly and calls for a great deal of what my college professor called the percussive left hand. In other words, you may be making a beautiful legato phrase with the bow, but the fingers of your left hand must work like hammers to give the music clarity.

The fourth movement? Well, blink and you miss it. François has been encouraging us to search for the dance like, jazzy quality of the music, rather than playing in an angularly correct manner. I've found this helpful and am doing my best to get into the groove.

The last three bars themselves are a minefield all of their very own, with several different performance directions squeezed into what is less than four seconds of music.

All these issues aside, I'm looking forward to performing this work. It is a brilliant composition and not one I've had the opportunity to perform before. That said, I plan to have a little lie down after it!

Then I would listen again whilst singing along. My poor parents - there I would be, headphones on, belting out some number from Cats - and everyone knows singing with headphones on often has interesting consequences for one's intonation, so it probably sounded like the said Cats were being strangled!

When I saw a call for auditions for a children's choir to appear in a production of Joseph and The Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat at Belfast's Lyric Theatre, I pestered my mother until I was allowed to audition. There followed for her an entire summer season of driving up and down the motorway, waiting at rehearsal halls and outside the theatre. I was having a ball, loving being on stage and bouncing around like a lunatic. I even still remember the vocal warmups we learnt as the vocal coach attempted to persuade some annunciation into our broad Northern Ireland accents.

I think in the classical world we sometimes have a tendency to look down on the world of musical theatre, as though our genre were the only legitimate form of music making. In other words, I think we can be a bit snobby at times. To do this is to ignore, or discount the very real connection that songs from the shows make with their audience; I'm pretty sure a greater proportion of the general population could sing with great love and affection a few strains of Climb Every Mountain from The Sound Of Music, than could recognise Haydn's 'Joke' Quartet.

Songs from the shows take us back to a more innocent time and allow us to suspend reality for a little while. The recent resurgence of the musical (take Hairspray, Legally Blonde and, of course, Wicked, for example) would suggest that this is still a relevant medium for our times.

On Friday and Saturday, we are joined by welsh singer Sophie Evans in a concert of tunes from the shows and, to the great excitement of a number of colleagues, Disney tunes. Many of you will remember Sophie as the runner up in the TV reality show Somewhere Over The Rainbow, and indeed, she has recently taken over the role of Dorothy full time in London's West End.

This is a great fun concert for the whole family, though Sophie should watch her back. I want to sing! My section have been indulging my fantasy this week and it has now grown to monstrous proportions that involve me being lifted on wires from my seat in the viola section as I sing Somewhere Over The Rainbow, before being gently and elegantly lowered into a pair of ruby slippers!

The BBC National Orchestra of Wales performs music by Bernstein, Coates, Strauss and songs from The Sound of Music and The Wizard of Oz and many more tonight, Friday 30 March at 7pm, at Theatr Brycheiniog, Brecon and tomorrow, Saturday 31 March, 7pm at St David's Hall, Cardiff. Tickets are available from the venues - Theatr Brycheiniog 01874 611622/St David's Hall 02920 878444.The concert will be recorded for future broadcast on BBC Radio Wales.

I was secretly dreading this concert. The venue has a very, very dry acoustic and to make the Prokofiev and Haydn in particular sound in any way beautiful, you have to work ever so hard.

Rehearsal was really only for topping and tailing, and after enjoying my prawn and edamame bean salad, I got ready quite early to have a good, long warm up.

I thought Vilde's Tchaikovsky was especially good in this concert. The audience obviously agreed, breaking into spontaneous applause after her blistering first movement (sod all convention, I felt like clapping after the first movement).

I really quite enjoyed the Prokofiev, but I wish there had been one more concert in which to play it. I think there are some pieces that are always like that - it becomes more comfortable, and consequently, more enjoyable every time you play it.

I enjoyed the pairing of the Prokofiev with Haydn's London Symphony, even if it did mean that the second half of the concert felt like an absolute marathon. However, I think it really demonstrated just how well constructed the Prokofiev's Classical Symphony is and I am a bit of a closet Haydn fan.

Alas, the final bars of Haydn did not signal the end of this Spring North Wales tour for the majority of the Orchestra. After a dinner break (in which Andy, Mark and their team had to pack up the Theatre and move everything to the Arena for the next rehearsal), we were into a technical rehearsal for two education concerts in Llandudno on Monday with conductor, Grant Llewellyn and animateur/facilitator/genius, Andy Pidcock.

On Monday, we played to over 1500 schoolchildren from both special education units and main stream education schools. The sight of associate leader, Nick Whiting, dressed as Nicolette the Hungarian Gypsy fiddler is an image that may be ingrained in my memory for a long while yet to come!

With that, we were off on the long journey home. The next few months hold some very exciting projects and repertoire for the Orchestra. The beginning of April will see the return of Associate Guest Conductor, the irrepressible François Xavier Roth for a programme that will bring the wind and strings individually into the limelight, as well as featuring young British pianist, Benjamin Grosvenor. Then, after a highly anticipated week of annual leave, we will be joined by Lisa Milne for Mahler's Fourth Symphony (I am already very excited). However, first, later this week, we have our Family Favourites concert to look forward to, featuring which promises to be an all singing, all dancing affair. And that's just in the Second Violins.

Rehearsal was a bit stop/start, as these things sometimes have a tendency to be. For starters, there was a small issue with the heating, meaning that the hall was sweltering. I believe in looking on the bright side of life however, and perhaps it was good training for the climate on the prchestra's forthcoming China tour! Additionally, the hall had the most reverberant acoustic of the tour and it was necessary to spend quite some time rebalancing the sound of the orchestra.

There is always such a good and responsive audience in Bangor. Sometimes, even if you're not happy about the angle at which you are facing your stand, or the height of your chair, or the amount of space you have to bow in, a good audience can help you forget these little niggles.

I'm not entirely sure what I think of Tchaikovsky's Hamlet overture. It has some horribly tricky passage work which always occurs when the brass are all blaring forth (perhaps that is a mercy!), so it sometimes feels like you are working incredibly hard but with not a terrible amount of return. I do like the end of it though - it's quite reminiscent of the end of the Pathetique Symphony.

Vilde's Bruch concerto was beautiful; it is lovely to hear a young soloist who isn't just a technical wizzkid, but plays with such soul. I genuinely would love someone to get in touch and let me know what her encore was! The Dvořák was a suitably rip-roaring affair and post-concert Tweets would suggest the audience really did love it!

Next day in Wrexham's William Aston Hall, rehearsal was relatively short as we were repeating the previous night's programme and so, it was only necessary to fit the music to the much drier acoustic. There was a little bit of a lighting issue that halted proceedings briefly - a third of the orchestra were being blinded by some overhead lights, the horns were in relative darkness and a few members were being toasted by lights quite close to their heads. This was all dealt with quickly by stage manager, Andy, with his usual humour and efficiency.

Rehearsal done, we headed back to the car park to enjoy that most glamourous of domestic tour activities - a packed dinner in the car. Claire had secured a parking space right by the exit, so we were confident of a swift get away post concert ( so would be in time to pick up a Chinese take away en route). Who said this life was all pretty dresses and post concert receptions!

The concert ran smoothly. I still find Hamlet a little bit uncomfortable; it's not that it is difficult, it's just a little awkward in places. Vilde's Bruch was warmly received by the audience and with that it was time for a quick breath of fresh air and on to the Dvořák!

With principal guest conductor, Jac van Steen, and soloist, Vilde Frang, we took two programmes on tour. Our programmes were two very different plays. The Tchaikovsky/Bruch/Dvořák programme, was quite heavy on the arms - a lot of red blooded, forte playing mixed with intense piano.

The Schumann/Tchaikovsky/Prokofiev/Haydn programme, on the other hand, required a much more stylised manner of playing. Both have their challenges, there's a bit of passage work in each that could trip you up if you weren't entirely on the ball!

As is now our tradition, my friends and I had booked a little cottage in Llandudno and so were driving rather than taking the orchestra coach. On Thursday morning, looking like the line up of a bad Englishwoman (Claire), Scotswoman (Amy), Welshwoman (Gwen), Irishwoman (Me) joke, we got the car packed and headed off.

All was going swimmingly until we were about 10 minutes from the venue and hit a terrible traffic jam. We started to panic that the best laid plans regarding being in time for a wee cuppa before rehearsal were descending into being catastrophically late for rehearsal.

After what felt like an age we were on our way again. The only other excitement was when the sat-nav took us a slightly funny route and we confronted the biggest incline to be seen outside of Alton Towers. Even Claire's tank of a car balked slightly at being forced up the hill as Amy, Gwen and I unhelpfully squealed in fear that we were going to roll backwards.

After a car or coach journey, I always feel the need to have an extra long warm up. I hate that feeling when your fingers feel swollen and unresponsive, and your body feels cramped from having sat in a confined space for a prolonged period of time. As we were playing Prokofiev's Classical Symphony in the first programme, it felt doubly important to me to be well warmed up.

Rehearsal started promptly and it was good to get a good play. I had been slightly concerned about this programme. The Prokofiev is brilliant, but a bit scary, and I had never played the Tchaikovsky concerto before - it has a few entries that could really catch you out. Thankfully, the Schumann was straight forward and I think I could almost play the Haydn in my sleep now!

There was an enthusiastic audience for the concert and I felt that things went well (especially the Schumann). I felt that I could now relax more in the Prokofiev too. Tired, we began our long drive to Llandudno to check into our lovely little home for the next few days!