Every morning before breakfast, the composer Gordon Jacob goes for a walk in the New Forest near his home. He then cooks a boiled egg, for simplicity's sake, and then sits down to his work from 9am until lunch, takes the afternoon off, and then works again from tea till suppertime. He believes six hours a day is a realistic limit for this level of concentrated work.

He has long been fascinated by combinations of different timbres, and likes to write for unconventional or neglected instruments such as the virginal. He always writes with a pen, as it sharpens his thinking. His room is full of manuscripts and scores, the latter left over from his 25-year teaching career as a professor at the Royal College of Music.

Jacob had been a prisoner of war in 1917, and in one camp he was able to run a small orchestra, arranging all the music for whatever instruments were at hand. The youngest of ten children, all of whom played something, he was more than used to dealing with these situations. He went to Dulwich College, a very musical school.

His long-term interest in arranging and orchestration has led him to transform piano scores into full orchestral works for the Sadler's Wells Ballet, with his arrangement of Handel's 'Zadok the Priest' sung at the last two coronations.

Jacob's own music includes string quartets, pieces for children's choirs, film music, brass bands and music for parish churches. He is not merely interested in church organs, having also written for the mouth organ. He thinks it is very important for composers to write for amateurs and children.

Most of Jacob's work has been abstract: variations, concertos, serenades and symphonies with no definite programme. He then decided to write a suite inspired by the New Forest, each movement linked to specific seasonal events, such as 'Pannage', where the pigs dig for acorns. In 'Primaeval Oaks', he attempts to depict the height of the trees and the depth of their roots, and 'The Bournemouth Road' captures the feel of high-speed traffic.

Jacob essentially writes to please himself, though he's happy if it also appeals to other people. He strongly believes that music should be easily accessible, and thinks that many of his contemporaries are jumping too far ahead of the public. While a composer should never write down to an audience, he feels repelled by the intellectual snobbery of many of the more progressive artists, especially their decision to abandon melody.