Williams John - Strings attached: the life & music of John Williams

I n the course of research for this book I have had the pleasure and privilege of meeting and interviewing members of John Williamss family and a great number of his friends and musical associates. Almost without exception, they expressed their amazement that John had finally sanctioned the writing of his biography; they had believed it would simply never come to pass. The idea of the book was conceived over a post-concert dinner on the terrace of a restaurant on the Rhine in Cologne. It was a balmy September evening and John Williams and John Etheridge were relaxing after their enthusiastically received performance at the citys superb Philharmonie concert hall. I lived with my family in Cologne for most of the nineties and, with my wife, Eila, I went to celebrate her birthday and to watch our friends in action at the venue where we had enjoyed so many great concerts. Eilas day was made when the Johns dedicated their encore number to her and the icing on the cake came when John Williams gallantly presented his platform bouquet to her after the show.

The two Johns are always great company and were in that special afterglow that makes musicians such great company after a successful gig. We enjoyed badly pronounced but beautifully cooked German food, taking our time over the small glasses of Klsch, the excellent local beer. The conversation meandered pleasantly alighting on a variety of random topics but always gently veering away from anything in danger of becoming too serious. As the sun dipped and the cabbages and kings began to wane, John Etheridge posed a regular question of me, When are you going to write my life story? He was not expecting a sensible answer since this was a standing joke between us born of my having written odd biographical pieces for him combined with his desire for even more immortality than his formidable musical legacy will provide. The question was laughed off, as ever, but it prompted me to ask John Williams why he had never been the subject of a biography. I received the answer that I think I was expecting. Paradoxically, one of the most widely known things about John Williams is that he is a very private person. Despite his fame, worldwide following and incredible career, he eschews celebrity and is utterly devoid of any sense of showbiz or self-promotion. Certainly, he is aware of his standing as a musician and of his role in modern music but his answer was that it would never happen.

I respected his position of course but, as we returned to England, I became more and more fixated on the idea, so just before we left the country again for a long-planned holiday, I wrote to John making a case for the biography and for me as its author. Beyond swearing that blackmail or threats of violence never came into it and there was very little in the way of coercion or duress, I shall not reveal exactly how I persuaded him. Suffice to say that the letter did the trick. John called me when I returned from my holiday, inviting me to lunch to discuss the matter further and, to my amazement, agreed not just to the notion of the book but also to co-operating with me as its author. Having done so, he embraced the idea with his characteristic, wholehearted enthusiasm. He made clear that, while he would co-operate fully, giving me interview time, access to his papers and introductions to his friends, it was totally my project. This was welcome news since I feared there was a chance that perhaps his agreement would come with the cloying condition of editorial control. As I have grown to know John better I realise what an absurd concern that was.