When Nigel Kennedy was just a violin prodigy, he tried to fit in, but his hair wouldn’t let him. There was a wild patch on top of his head that wouldn’t be tamed, whether he tried to gel it “like Bob Hope” or let it grow until he was told to cut it. Eventually, he gave in to his inner punk… and a star was born.
The former enfant terrible of classical music may be approaching 70 (his diary is so packed that plans are already being made for the big day, even though it’s still three years away), but his famous Mohican hairstyle is still in full swing as he greets me by popping his head around the gate of his Tardis-like north London mansion, one of three he owns (he’s worth an estimated £5million).
The former enfant terrible of the classical music world may be approaching his 70th birthday (his schedule is so full that plans are already being made for the big day, even though it’s still three years away), but his famous Mohican hairstyle is still very much in evidence
Aston Villa fan Nigel Kennedy and son Sark in 2000. Sark, now 27, was sentenced during Covid when Nigel was in lockdown in Poland, so he couldn’t even see his son in court or prison
He’s wearing a vintage Aston Villa top – vintage in the sense that he’s had it for nearly 50 years. He gives me a little bow and takes my hand to kiss it before showing me around. Unsurprisingly, this isn’t like most celebrity homes, even if it’s worth a few million. There’s barely a clean surface in the kitchen and the living room is covered in sheet music. His garden is so gloriously overgrown that a family of foxes have made it their home. ‘This is one of my oldest but most garish shirts. I wanted to look special,’ he smiles. ‘What am I like, covering myself in sunscreen for everyone? A bit like Keir Starmer.’
Nigel has always been known for his left-wing politics and party lifestyle, so it’s a surprise that he’s not enamoured of our first Labour prime minister in 14 years. ‘I’ve never liked him since he banned members of real Labour,’ he tells me. ‘Like Corbyn, for example, who’s trying to do something for human rights and represent people in his local council. And that Galloway guy. Even Diane Abbott. Unbelievable. I mean, she talks a lot and it’s tough, but there’s something wrong with that, isn’t there?’
I tell him that Corbyn – for whom Nigel rejoined Labour, but left again when he was thrown out – was forced out because of his anti-Semitism. “Do you think he’s anti-Semitic?” he asks. I nod. “I never knew,” he insists.
I remind him that his main residence in Poland, where he lives with his artist wife Agnieszka, is in the countryside outside Kraków, a few miles from Auschwitz. “Yes,” he agrees. “But I find it hard to imagine anyone being anti-Semitic, even though there is a government radio station in Poland that preaches anti-Semitic and homophobic things,” he says. Mostly, he tries not to think about the right-wing politics of his adopted country. “I’m in the mountains and the biggest worry is wild boars, bears and wolves, more of a looming threat than anything to do with one’s genetic makeup.”
He lives in a small village in a house so eco-friendly it even has wooden drains. Although he is very conscious about the use of plastic, he admits, in a theatrical whisper, that he is not sure about global warming. ‘I think we have replaced truth with facts,’ he says. ‘I have a big problem with the alarmism about global warming, as if we are causing it. I am a conservationist – I believe in not stuffing dolphins with plastic and I see the hypocrisy of going to a supermarket and finding everything covered in plastic. But I am skeptical that global warming is man-made. It is arrogant to think that we are the cause of everything.’
Global warming doesn’t affect him much in Poland. In the winter, the farmer next door has to come round with his tractor to make sure he and Agnieszka aren’t stuck in the snow for months. ‘Everyone knows what’s happening to each other – the gossip is about everyone, whether they’ve shot a wolf in the forest or, like me, they’re constantly making noise on their violin,’ he says. ‘Some of them know me because I was one of the first people to go to Poland when the country was still changing from socialism to capitalism in the early 1980s. At one point I was an exotic new bird, but now I’m just a pigeon among all those other British tourists.’
He laughs because he is a jovial guy, albeit one with strong opinions. He is still the world’s best-selling classical violinist, but there is a mischievous air about him. Much was made of his mockney accent when he first appeared on the scene – after all, both his father and grandfather were eminent musicians – but growing up first in Brighton and then Solihull, the part cockney, part Brummie accent has stuck.
His best friends are still Aston Villa fans, in fact he says he was so annoyed when Jack Grealish was left out of the England Euros squad (Jack’s dad is one of those football friends) that he couldn’t support the team during the tournament. It’s this earthiness of the football fan combined with the refined beauty of the classical violin that makes Nigel who he is.
He is the George Best of the classical world and like Best his love of partying is legendary. He admits his biggest expense has been on drink. ‘It can be six figures. I take care of everyone. There is champagne, expensive hotels… My favourite club is my hotel room, where I play with friends until the early hours.’
He’s done his fair share of drugs over the years, but now he sticks to marijuana. I wonder if he’s ever taken the partying too far? ‘No, I’m a happy cat now, so whatever got me here must be good. I might look back on something in the past when I was unhappy and think that was a turning point, but that’s what got me to where I am now.’
His parents had problems with alcohol and his only son Sark, by his ex-partner Eve Westmore, has been jailed twice for supplying cocaine. He was caught with £15,000 worth of drugs in a car in 2021 and was jailed for a second time in 2022 after pleading guilty to conspiracy to supply Class A drugs.
Nigel, whose third home is in Malvern where Sark grew up, believes his son is turning his life around. ‘In a way, prison has done him good,’ says Nigel. ‘It’s made him a man, he’s not an overgrown boy. It’s like being in the army, I suppose. It makes you stronger.’
Sark, 27, was convicted during Covid when Nigel was in lockdown in Poland, so he couldn’t even see his son in court or prison. “We were shut down and he’s survived the whole Covid period without having to be vaccinated, which is good because people are getting bad news about vaccines now,” he says, digressing slightly.
“He was moved around a lot in the prison system and I didn’t see him until his sentence was over. It was a strange position to be in. I was completely helpless and worried for his life. I prayed that he would come out in one piece, and thankfully he did.”
The violinist’s only son Sark and his former partner Eve Westmore have been jailed twice for supplying cocaine
Kennedy is the George Best of the classical world and like Best, his love of partying is legendary
Now Sark is working hard on ‘aerodynamics, ball bearings and s***’, says Nigel. ‘He’s not afraid of work and he’s going in a positive direction. In that respect he came out of prison unscathed. There could have been another eventuality but as it is, it’s helped him find a better direction. You always worry about your kids, don’t you? But I’m glad he’s okay.’
Nigel’s father was a cellist who left his pianist mother Scylla when she was pregnant with Nigel. She introduced him to the violin, and we talk about his new book Songs My Mother Never Taught Me, a beginner’s compendium. His message? “It doesn’t matter if it’s a 70-year-old or a 12-year-old – it’s about giving everyone a turn,” he says.
Next month he’s playing legendary jazz club Ronnie Scott’s, where he’s been performing since he was 14, and he says it’s always a thrill to play the iconic venue. “Playing where Ella Fitzgerald performed means a lot to me,” he says. He loves jazz as much as he loves Vivaldi. His own compositions, which he’ll be playing at Ronnie Scott’s, incorporate both, but it irritates him when people find that surprising. “I don’t know why people try to put us in boxes,” he sighs. “We all have prejudices, but it makes me angry that they’re in music. If we can’t be open-minded about music, how are we ever going to sort out the human race?”
- Nigel Kennedy Originals: Live at Ronnie Scott’s, September 25-28. Songs My Mother Never Taught Me: For Violin And Piano will be published by Chester Music in September.