He’s long since celebrated his 50th Edinburgh Festival (2002) and his half-century with Welsh National Opera (2000).For someone so brilliant in so many areas, he’s remarkably modest about his achievements and reluctant to be drawn on the highlights of his career. “It’s not a great work, but it has a certain charm, with a beautiful slow second movement reminiscent of Frederick or Fairfax in the Savoy operas, and a last movement that bounds along like a patter song – ‘Modern major general’ or ‘Matter, matter, matter’,” he says.Genial and benign, but sharp and sprightly as a man of far less advanced age, he’s in great demand in this anniversary year of Dvorak (who died in 1904) and Janacek (born in 1854), appearing with the Vienna Philharmonic and the Berlin Philharmonic, among other leading orchestras. The tremendous enthusiasm which which he’s greeted as he walks briskly on to the podium is an indication of the esteem in which he’s held. Businesslike, untouched by celebrity status, he’s the last person who would assume the haughty demeanour of some of his younger colleagues.Then there are his reconstructions, notably of Sullivan’s lost Cello Concerto, which he put together from the barest details after a fire at the publisher Chappell destroyed the full score and all but a few sketchy parts.

He has been prominent in reviving Handel in his own editions, has a reputation as an instinctive Verdian, and is equally compelling in repertoire ranging from Elgar and Mahler to Weber and Donizetti. His latest recording, of Bartok and Kodaly with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra – an ensemble he cites as providing one of his most fruitful and responsive partnerships – proves it to my ear.”Look,” he explains, a trifle impatiently, “all conductors have their own sound. It is true that conductors make a specific sound – though musicians might dispute that, asserting that they don’t even watch the conductor. It’s a mysterious thing, but I do believe that it’s the emanations of individual conductors that make the difference, their presence – if it’s sufficiently strong – and their personal approach.”Prague was Mozart’s favourite city, and Mackerras quickly became a notable interpreter of his music.

“I bought new sets of tails, and cameras for my wife who is interested in photography, and the rest I spent on full orchestral parts. I bought the four principal Mozart operas, including two sets of string parts for Don Giovanni and all 41 of his symphonies – all of which I have recorded, by the way. I got most of Haydn’s 101 symphonies and all Beethoven’s, as well as symphonies by Brahms, Tchaikovsky, Sibelius and Shostakovich.”Those parts are a key part of his work. In his quest to draw as authentic a sound as possible from modern orchestras, he has experimented with bowings, explored wind and brass techniques and investigated ornamentation until he’s satisfied that his performances are as truthful as possible to the composer’s intentions.