ON my 16th birthday my godfather, the composer Herbert Howells, presented me with a score of Elgar's Cello Concerto, which he inscribed: "To Julian, from HH to whom EE once said of this work, It 's just an old man's darling'." And on reflecting on the qualities that have made this extraordinary, but in some ways elusive, concerto perhaps the most loved of all Elgar's compositions, I can't help feeling his chance remark to my godfather provides the key, as the composer's obvious affection for his last major permeates every bar.

As a nine-year-old, my grandmother gave me two cello records for Christmas. She didn't know much about classical music, and I later discovered that she had been guided by the "nice old gentleman" who ran the specialist record shop on the corner.

I have always been grateful to my mysterious mentor as my presents turned out to be two of the greatest cello recordings of the era - the First Saint-Saens Concerto played by Pierre Fournier and the Elgar Cello Concerto played by Paul Tortelier.

Certainly Tortelier's account could not be more different to Jacqueline du Pre's legendary recording with John Barbirolli. This has become the benchmark by which all others are compared - but a downside of the iconic status accorded to du Pre's performance is that so many young cellists feel obliged to copy it.

If there was one thing that convinced me that I had the right to record my version of Elgar's extraordinary creation it was the certainty that my interpretation was markedly different to Jackie's.

This wasn't intentional. I have experimented (in private) with playing the concerto in many ways. But, once on the concert platform, I can only play it the way I feel. And I feel the composer has given us an intensely personal, lonely statement.

Lying on his deathbed, 15 years after the concerto's completion, Elgar "rather feebly", tried to whistle the first movement's haunting 9/8 theme to his dear friend, the violinist William Reed.

"Billy," he said, with tears in his eyes, "if ever you're walking on the Malvern Hills and hear that, don't be frightened. It's only me."

It is a marvellous work and I can write, without hesitation, that it has been a constant, significant presence in my life.

THIS ARTICLE FIRST APPEARED IN THE GRAMOPHONE, MAy 2007.