Morton's musical menagerie

When Morton was invited to programme a weekend of concerts in Glasgow, he was expressly asked to think outside usual stylistic parameters. "The idea was for Glasgow to get to know me as a musician rather than as a player," he says. "What makes me tick. What I listen to in my spare time – assuming I don't only listen to string music."

So the programme for Jonathan Morton Takes Over – this weekend at the Old Fruitmarket and Kelvingrove Museum – looks a motley assortment, from rock minimalism and solo Bach, John Tavener to Balkan gypsy bands. What the weekend decidedly isn't about is straight-up string classics.

Morton pours himself another cup of tea. We've met in his hotel in Glasgow, where he speaks blithely, keenly, an odd mixture of offhand and small-boy inquisitive. Though he was born and brought up in Belgium his accent is impeccably English – product, presumably, of studying at the Yehudi Menuhin School from the age of 13. These days he lives in London with his wife, the Ensemble's former director Clio Gould.

It was while at the Menuhin School that Morton began listening outwards. "Actually the kids there were way more open-minded than you might think," he says. But it was in Manchester, where he took the joint music degree course between Manchester University and the Royal Northern College of Music, that "my ears really opened. One of my closest friends there was a jazzer, so I was going to jazz gigs three times a week." He reels off a list of Belgian jazz groups I should check out after the interview.

The first concert of the weekend is pure minimalism: London-based contemporary music ensemble Icebreaker plays Reich's Variations for Vibes, Piano and Strings, Glass's iconic Glassworks and a chamber reduction of Louis Andriessen's super-velocity De Sneldheid. Morton says it's "a bit of a fluke" that the programme fits so snugly into Glasgow's Minimal series. "Sneldheid just utterly fascinates me as a concept, and Icebreaker do this brilliant version. Apparently Louis thinks it's good too – which is a relief-"

Saturday night is the real oddity. The Hilliard Ensemble opens for Taraf de Haïdouks, a Romani gypsy band that's about as raucous as the Hilliards are serene. "I came across them at Ronnie Scotts when I was a student," says Morton. "They're a pretty mad bunch – some with no teeth, some young guys – and they just go for it. The violinists are incredible. I used to listen to their stuff for hours on end."

Then there is Pekka Kuusisto, who was interviewed in The Herald last week. The Finnish violinist is a fearsome force – not as brash about his eclecticism as, say, Nigel Kennedy, but an innate and unique musical adventurer. "He's definitely treading a different path," says Morton. "Not just his repertoire choice; his whole ethos. The way he thinks about music. He's able to bring all of his interests into what he's doing. It's something I try to do, too: everything that goes in should somehow come out. I don't mean that if I hear a concert of Bach that then comes out directly in my Bach. But I might hear a concert of Ligeti or Radiohead and that might come out in my Bach. Pekka does that big time."

On Sunday Kuusisto joins the Hilliards for Morimur, a bizarre but deeply affecting rehashed version of Bach's D Minor Violin Partita. "The theory is that Bach wrote the famous Chaconne in memorial for his first wife," explains Morton. "He was hearing his own funeral chorales in his head while he wrote it. So Pekka plays while the Hilliard sing around him- It's very ghostly."

Also on Sunday is Towards Silence, a quadruple quartet work by John Tavener – "the sort of piece that doesn't get done often because of logistics, but it's really stunning. A vast space, four string quartets hidden from sight, plus a giant Tibetan bowl-"

It was suggested that Morton play said Tibetan bowl, but he declined. In fact, he declined to perform in most of the weekend's line-up: "this was not meant as a vehicle for me as a performer," he says. "I've already got my vehicle – the Ensemble. I play on stage here enough as it is. I wanted to be able to listen for once."

Besides, for all his wandering as a listener, Morton doesn't dabble much outside the classical repertoire as a player. "I might have to go to therapy to answer why," he laughs. "Probably a combination of being a perfectionist and time constraints. Maybe that's a pathetic excuse but it's all I can think of. I'm not saying I never will, though- I've done bits and pieces, collaborating with folk musicians and jazzers and such. Each time I do it gets easier. Maybe I'm a slow burner or something."

Morton says he worries constantly about how to communicate classical music in a way that's genuine. Certainly, the status quo seems problematic: "we're trained to obsess about things that don't matter to most people," he says. "A lot of musicians just play to each other, which is totally unbalanced.

"I'm gathering evidence for this theory – in fact, I see it all the time: amazing soloists who the orchestra and maybe a couple of critics all wet their pants about, but the rest of the audience get nothing from. I don't mean we should dumb down or start doing classical spectaculars. You can play very challenging music and speak to a large number of people, but not if you're constantly obsessing about things that only other musicians and 2% of an audience will care about."

The answer, he says, must have "something to do with how we relate. Classical musicians are prone to a false sense of entitlement. But just walking on stage and playing amazing music and expecting the world to say 'wow' – it doesn't necessarily work like that."

So chuck Hilliard/Icebreaker/Taraf de Haïdouk on one stage and see what happens? "OK, it's a bit kamikaze. But every time I've done it good things come out. On a basic level people can feel boundaries shifting. It's nothing to do with how much you know about music; it's a human interaction thing."

Jonathan Morton Takes Over is at the Fruitmarket on Friday and Saturday and Kelvingrove on Sunday. See www.glasgowconcerthalls.com