‘My music studio is 16 by 4 metres, with a wood-panelled interior. It is rather like being in a ship’

Sir Peter Maxwell Davies, 75, is one of Britain’s foremost composers. Born in Salford, Manchester, north-west England, and knighted in 1987, he has travelled the path from ‘enfant terrible’ of British music to Master of the Queen’s Music, a position he assumed in 2004. For the past 10 years he has lived on the remote island of Sanday, in the Orkneys. The complete cycle of his 10 Naxos String Quartets can be heard at London’s South Bank Centre as part of his 75th birthday celebrations, from October 9-11.

How did you come to live in the Orkneys?
I went there on holiday in the summer of 1970 and bought a copy of the Orcadian poet George Mackay Brown’s An Orkney Tapestry at the Stromness bookshop. The very next day, as I was reading the book, I happened to run into the poet, who was staying with a great local character called Archie Bevan. We spent a great afternoon together and George suggested I rent Muckle House, which belonged to a local doctor, to compose in during the summer. This chance encounter turned out to be a turning point in my life and I ended up buying a cottage on the island.

What was the house like?
A total ruin. It had no roof or doors or windows and a stream ran through it. It was perched high above the village of Rackwick on Hoy. It took four years to do it up, with the help of friends, and we had to carry all the materials up the cliff on our backs. Water came from a spring behind the house and for 10 years we had no electricity there – I used to compose by candlelight and oil lamps. I lived there for 28 years.

It sounds very romantic.
It was, until electricity came along and it became easier for people to come and stay on the island. Hoy became overrun by tourists, so I decided to leave and moved to my current house, on Sanday.

Is that similar to Hoy?
The landscape could not be more different. Where Hoy was all vertical cliffs, crashing waves and high drama, Sanday is flat and sandy. There are only about 500 inhabitants on the island and you can be alone on a beach all day. The house is set just 200 yards from the shore, in 29 acres of fields and garden. There are open vistas out to sea and the lighthouse on North Ronaldsay. There are no police or permanent doctors on the island and schoolteachers fly in daily from Kirkwall.

MY FAVOURITE THINGS

The store cupboard in the kitchen, for what it contains – olive oils, balsamic vinegars, Marsala wine.

The wine racks, on which you can find Brunello di Montalcino and the odd bottle of good claret. There is a great wine merchant in Kirkwall.

Pieces of medieval wood-carvings from various churches.

Roman glass, which I used to collect years ago.

The view from the windows, ever-changing with the light.

Can you describe the house?
It is a small, one-bedroom croft with a slate roof, with a good-sized living room, all stone and wood. About four years ago [my partner] Colin turned the former cowsheds into a music studio for me. It is quite large, 16 metres by 4 metres, with a wood-panelled interior. It is rather like being in a ship. It is simply furnished: a piano, some 15th-century chairs, medieval woodcut prints.

What do you do in a typical day?
In the summer I am up before 6am to take my black-and-white Collie, Judy, for a long walk on the beach. I prepare lunch so that everything is ready, shower, and am at my desk by 9.30am. I work till 6pm, with an hour’s break for lunch. To relax, I will go for a seven-mile walk on the beach. I also read a lot – in French, Italian and German, as well as in English.

Your music has mellowed and has been compared to Mahler or Sibelius. Has living in the Orkneys had an influence on you?
Very much so. The silence is total. All you hear are the sounds of the sea, birds and the seals barking on the beach. You are in contact with nature and get used to her rhythms. The light is wonderful, the water supply is clean, the vegetables fresh, we have cows for meat, we dig the peat. We became self-sufficient and it changes your perspective. I am also aware of the ancient roots of the island, going back 4,000 years. We are always finding neolithic fragments on our walks. And, of course, the poems of Mackay Brown were inspirational. We collaborated on several projects – most notably the opera The Martyrdom of St Magnus.

Do you entertain much?
Friends and locals, yes. I love cooking, especially Italian food. We get fresh local lobster and Colin dives for sea urchins.

And there was the infamous incident with the swan terrine, in 2005.
Yes. As often happens, a swan flew into hydro cables and died. We hung it, like pheasant, on a washing line. On the fifth day a visiting policeman saw it and took the swan to the X-ray machine at Kirkwall airport, to ascertain whether it had been shot. He returned with a warrant to search our freezer and I offered him some swan terrine. He wasn’t amused. It was perfectly legal but all the fuss proved great publicity for my latest composition.

What do the locals think of having such an eminent figure in their midst?
Oh, we are just Max and Colin. It is a proper community and I am very involved in it, writing music for schools and for the Sanday Fiddle Club, whose members range from age five to 85. And in 1977 Mackay Brown and I founded the St Magnus Festival, in which local people play a big part.

So you feel integrated in the community?
Yes, and it is very supportive of us. The locals were very upset when the Orkney Islands Council blocked my civil partnership ceremony with Colin in 2007. The BBC and the Sunday papers were due to cover the event and everyone had been looking forward to a good party!

Do you travel very much?
My work takes me all over the world, though I am trying to travel less, cutting down on my conducting engagements to spend more time at home. I love Italy and like to spend holidays there.

How often do you visit Buckingham Palace and where do you stay?
I come down about three times a year to meet with the Queen. She has been wonderful, very willing to be guided and to learn about music. I usually stay in a flat at the Royal Academy of Music, where I teach four days each term.

Have you ever lived abroad?
I lived in Rome for a year as a student. I learnt to cook there. I also spent two years studying at Princeton and nine months in Adelaide, as composer in residence at the university.

Is there anything unusual about your house?
Everybody says it has a very peaceful, spiritual atmosphere. Once I “saw” a lady in a red dressing gown knitting by the fireplace. I described her to the local midwife, who recognised the old lady as a previous occupant, who died peacefully from carbon monoxide poisoning.

Where would you most like to live?
Exactly where we are!