Embarking on any kind of concert tour during a pandemic was never going to be straightforward, but along with my long-time friend and colleague Yo-Yo Ma, we independently set off for Taiwan in October. After recently having recorded together, it felt so optimistic to now have the opportunity to give live performances in a country where Covid is under control and, as a result, we could expect audiences of 2000 people seated with no social distancing.

Before setting off, a Covid test was the main objective and nobody was going anywhere without that negative result. Next, I bought a burner phone for the Taiwanese SIM card which is compulsory for track and tracing. After printing out 22 pages of instruction and filling out a very detailed online form, I felt some relief to actually set off for London from where I had been asked to take a direct flight for safety reasons. Packing was strangely difficult. I was out of practice and just how many outfits did I think I would be wearing for my quarantine? The scales at check-in displayed a disappointing amount of kilos.

Wearing masks from Manchester to Taipei was uncomfortable, so I couldn’t wait to get through arrivals quickly and into my quarantine hotel. However, first signs of this very precise Covid operation were apparent within minutes of arriving in Taipei. I estimate 50 ground staff instantly appeared to help passengers update their online form with new Taiwanese phone numbers. Next and most importantly - show that negative Covid test result and no further questions asked about why I was there.

The quarantine hotel assigned someone to meet me at the airport; a car appeared and briskly swept my bleary eyed self to the hotel. We passed the main entrance and I found myself being driven into a deserted underground car park. Hmmm…a slight palpitation. The driver took out my luggage and proceeded to fumigate it before I was shown to a lift. I entered, knowing I would not emerge into a hotel reception for the usual check in, but instead looked for the room with an open door. This was to be my home for an 11 day quarantine. I was happy to see both the little digital piano and a treadmill for I knew both these items would keep me in good spirits. I was wrong.

So day 1 started as the next days would go on; a phone call from reception asking what my temperature was. This was reported back to the Minister of Culture each day, twice a day. Shortly afterwards, the first of what would be a daily message appeared on my Taiwan number; how are you feeling? Answer 1, 2 or 3. I was always anxious about pressing the wrong button, but what became clear is that if I didn’t reply almost immediately, repeat messages were sent until I did answer. On that first day, I also received a call from the police reminding me that I must answer those questions and not to step out of my room. Message understood.

I checked in with Yo-Yo who had arrived from the USA and had a particularly long journey. He was equally exhausted and bewildered at the reality of quarantine quarters. Neither of us had done this before and like most musicians, Yo-Yo hadn’t played any concerts since March. I was ahead of him on that score with one very socially distanced recital in August. We have been travelling around the world together for 35 years, but the concept of being in the same hotel but not able to say hello in person for 11 days was very much out of the ordinary. I told him I thought the whole experience would be about state of mind and personally thought I could deal with that without too much difficulty; after all we both had plenty to keep us busy with our individual projects. Neither of us expected much more than to tick the days off.

I valiantly set off on my treadmill twice a day setting myself a brisk walking pace with the aim of 45 minutes per session. Mission accomplished - pat on the back. I loved my little digital piano and found that fun to work on. Yo-Yo had arrived with some other pieces for us to record during the trip and music was duly delivered from his room to mine via hotel staff. We each had boxes outside our rooms where items were placed or collected. I set to work on learning a piece written by his father and was glad of something new to keep me busy. I’m currently the Artistic Director of the Australian Festival of Chamber Music and some hours of each day were busy with programming - I was grateful for the lovely large desk in my room and a general place to spread out papers and scribblings. I also checked in with my students based both in Oslo and Manchester and it was good to have those daily Zoom lessons with them and ‘get out of my room’.

Yo-Yo meanwhile was very busy with his own Zoom appointments but we came together on some of these for joint interviews about the new album ‘Songs of Comfort and Hope’. As we were talking about some of the meanings of comfort, I’m reminded now that the quarantine food  missed the mark in that category. Three times a day, the doorbell rang and a brown paper bag was left outside the room with our food. Each day my face fell to the floor at the assault on my taste buds. This was the one element for daily culinary surprise, but one which turned into regular disappointment. It transpired that UberEats was allowed and so we both turned to this with gusto and our new favourite word became dumplings! I began to dream of dumplings.

The process to elect the next President of the United States was underway.

Yo-Yo and I were out of sync with our days, due to his arrival date and first concert. His would be a performance of all the Bach Suites playing to 5000 people. Just a gentle step up from being in quarantine. My first concert in Taiwan would be our recital together in Tainan. However, for both of us to reach that point, we both had separate early morning outings to the hospital in Taipei for Covid tests. I have never been so grateful for an outdoor waiting area and almost gulped the fresh air for those 15 minutes. My skin looked pallid and my energy level had been decreasing by the day. On day 6 I hit a low and did not move from my bed and took to binge-watching The Queen’s Gambit. While I’d always imagined that to be a luxury kind of a day (and something I never quite managed to do), the reality wasn’t what I imagined at all. The heaviness of the past 9 months finally caught up with me and it was not to be brushed off. The musical and personal emptiness felt by so many colleagues arrived loud and clear in my quarantine room. It was a moment to take stock. After 24hrs it was over, but in talking to Yo-Yo on our next Zoom catch up, it was clear we were both suffering quarantine side effects to varying degrees. If only I could open a window.

We were never really sure where our rooms were in relation to each other as the numbers and floors didn’t quite stack up, but it was indeed some comfort to hear distant cello sounds from somewhere in the building. Normally I would say I’m generally not keen to hear other musicians practising in their hotel rooms, but movements of Bach were food for this lonely soul. Double stops in Schumann...ah yes…octaves in Piazzolla’s Grand Tango…oh yes, I remember those! Anticipation for the concerts had returned and was suddenly gathering speed.

Day 11 was momentous! While quarantine was to continue in a different state, we were allowed to move to another floor of the hotel. This initially seemed annoying, having to pack up and move only a few floors, but the joy of being able to see each other - and the other two members of our travelling team - was immense. We were not allowed to venture further than the hotel lobby (one with no facilities) but that was the equivalent of going on holiday after the past days! And so our concerts were finally to begin. The first in Tainan, followed by Taichung, then on to the beautiful Weiwuying hall in Kaohsiung from where we gave a live streamed performance and finally back to Taipei for our last concert. Although seemingly free to venture out, it was only to the steps of our little tour bus, immediate exit into the backstage area, on stage and back to the hotel. Temperature guns were aimed at our heads so often I didn’t notice them after a while. No contact with the general public, no backstage greetings, no grabbing a quick coffee from the shop around the corner. The hours on the road after concerts were many (Bullet trains were off the quarantine menu) but they were happy ones filled with laughter, conversation, food, wine and some snoring.

It had indeed been a strange world to inhabit for what turned out to be a 16 day trip. Living without any personal freedom in a country we had visited for 30 years or more was a new price to pay, but we left with the very deepest respect for everything Taiwan has put in place, not only making its citizens safe, but keeping the possibility of music making alive. Walking out on stage was truly a moment of gratitude, admiration and deep thanks. We told the audience these concerts were our first in 9 months - they audibly gasped. The silence as they listened was intense. For all of those performing minutes Covid did not exist, and the giving and receiving of music once again united all of us in a beautiful embrace of souls eager to seek comfort and hope. Our programme included the song ‘Gracias a la vida’ by Violeta Parra; I remembered the words while we played it for the last time.

Our thoughts turned to home and with that we were gone.

Below, you can hear Kathryn Stott and Yo-Yo Ma playing 'Scarborough Fair' (arranged by Stephen Hough) from their new album 'Songs of Comfort & Hope', which is out today from Sony Classical - and below that, a video of them playing 'Ol' Man River' (arranged by Roderick Williams), which also appears on the album.