STANDING outside the Living Room performance space at The Arts House, I hear piano music filtering through the wooden doors.

As I enter, Iskandar Ismail stops playing, jumps to his feet and flashes a bright smile in my direction.

"Hello, hellooo," he greets me enthusiastically, his outstretched hand ready for a handshake.

Friendly, laidback and bubbly, he is the kind of guy you warm up to within seconds of meeting him.

Sinking into a couch, he asks casually: "What would you like to know about me?"

Well, this much is known about the home-grown musician, who turns 51 in July: He is a composer, arranger, conductor, music director, recording producer and jazz performer all rolled into one.

He may not be as prolific as singer-songwriter Dick Lee, or as high profile as Singapore Idol judge Ken Lim, but he is definitely up there with them in terms of street cred.

Named by Malay daily Berita Harian as the Achiever of the Year in 2003, he is one of the rare few who can cross genres at will - from a pop gig to a classical concert to a mega show.

Since 1988, he has composed and arranged music for the annual National Day Parade, and was its music director for many years.

He also worked on the opening shows for the World Trade Organization meetings here in 1996, and the Asian Games in Doha last year.

On the pop front, he arranged and orchestrated the music for Cantopop king Jacky Cheung's popular musical Snow. Wolf. Lake., and has also collaborated with other A-list artistes such as Aaron Kwok, Andy Lau, Sandy Lam and Sally Yeh.

But he says he is most proud of Generation/s, which premiered in Tokyo last year as part of the celebrations to mark the 40th anniversary of diplomatic ties between Singapore and Japan.

Commissioned by The Arts House, the 40-minute piece showcased 18 top musicians in Singapore, including cellist Leslie Tan and violist Lionel Tan of the T'ang Quartet.

It brought together the rhythms and melodies of East and West and was conducted by the composer himself.

"I was given a free hand to work on this piece and the response was very good," he says, adding that he is currently expanding it for a performance in Moscow, probably in June next year.

Last month, he was conferred the Honorary Fellowship of the London College Of Music at Thames Valley University.

Despite being an old-hand in the music scene, he claims to be uncomfortable with media interviews such as this one.

"Usually, I prefer to let my fingers do the talking," he says, while posing for photographs at the piano.

Then, grinning, he adds playfully: "Why don?t you ask me questions and I'll answer by playing happy or sad notes?"

Understated entertainer

AT ONE point during the interview, he deadpans: "I don't drink, I don't smoke and I don't play golf. I'm a boring person."

Truth is, he is anything but. The affable man is fun to talk to because he is quick to supply interesting anecdotes and quotes without being long-winded or self-indulgent.

He is forthcoming, except when the conversation turns to his private life.

He is particularly wary of coming across as flaunting his success, and it is only after much cajoling that he reluctantly allows that he lives in a "small bungalow" in Siglap and drives a Mercedes Benz. Just don't ask which model.

But his theatrical gestures - flailing arms and untamed laughter - are entertaining, to say the least.

He says his only vice is computer products, which leads him to upgrade his entire system almost every year.

He shares that the CD currently playing in his car is an opera compilation, but quickly adds that "I also have a Michael Buble CD".

He whips out an ancient student pass from his Berklee College Of Music days in Boston in 1978. It has a photograph of him with shoulder-length hair, and he relates with obvious glee how he used to be a "flower child".

"I keep this so that I can show it to my two children, in case they say I'm not hip, you see," he says conspiratorially.

His son Emil, 21, studies in Melbourne and is applying to university while daughter Valerie, 20, is a first-year student studying business at Nanyang Technological University.

Wife Ernawaty Sorianto, 50, a music teacher, is an Indonesian-Chinese who was his piano student.

But really, no one can accuse the doting father - he is the unofficial family chauffeur - of not being hip.

His appearance alone scores high on the hip factor - he sports highlighted hair and a pair of designer spectacles that screams attitude.

He is wearing a long-sleeved maroon shirt and black trousers for this interview, but says he is more of a T-shirt and jeans guy.

"It's your knowledge that counts, and not how you look. Sometimes appearances can fool people," he says.

No wonder all his children?s friends know him as the "hip Dad".

"He is very in touch with what's happening in the youth culture," says Valerie, adding that her father has "very good taste" and often buys clothes for her.

Asked if he enjoys working with young people, the musician, who is the music director of the Jazz Ensemble Band at the National University of Singapore, says: "Oh yes. They have lots of energy and ideas, and they are more open."

Leaning forward, he adds: "At this point in my life, and this may sound corny and cliched, I want to give back to society. One way is by being involved with young talents and sharing my experience with them."

Calling Iskandar a "national treasure", longtime friend Lim Sek says the maestro is well respected within the industry.

"Professionally, you really can?t find any fault in him," says the chief executive of entertainment company Music & Movement.

"He is wonderful to work with. I've never seen him lose his temper, ever."

Mr Phan Ming Yen, director of artistic development at The Arts House, says: "He is very focused, dedicated, patient and devoted to his art."

Describing Iskander as a "nurturing" and "humane" man who cares for the well-being of people he works with, he says the former always tries to ensure that everyone learns something in the process.

Musical roots

MUSIC is hardwired into the genes of this eldest son of veteran Malay singers Ismail Kassim, who died in 1994 in a road accident, and Nona Asiah, 75.

His father was a draughtsman who moonlighted as a singer. His mother, whose real name is Asiah Aman, did playback singing for Malay movies - recording the songs on a soundtrack so that the actors could lip sync for the cameras. She is now retired.

He and his four siblings - Mutalib, 49, Bobby, 48, Nora, 46, and Indra, 40 - grew up in a kampung in Kembangan.

While the rest of the kampung boys played football, he would be holed up at home practising the piano, which his parents made him learn when he was eight.

HIP FACTOR: Iskandar, then 19, and his youngest brother Indra, then nine, after winning in their respective categories at the Singapore Electone Festival 1975.

His piano teacher was Zubir Said, who composed the National Anthem.

All his siblings played the piano, except Bobby, who played the trumpet. They often won music competitions and was Singapore's version of the Jackson Five, he says with a laugh.

He went to Upper Serangoon Technical School and then to St Patrick's School for his pre-university education, but he was just an average student.

"My mind was into music and I couldn't concentrate on my studies," he says. "My parents sort of knew my career path would be in music but I still had to go through the academic route."

He was clearly talented and started teaching - illegally - at a music school when he was just 15. He was very tall for his age and no one suspected anything. He also gave private lessons at home.

In 1975, he won the Singapore Electone Festival and represented the country at the regional finals in Hong Kong. He was unplaced. That made him decide to study music in the United States.

"It made me realise I was still lacking. It proved I was not good enough," he says.

His parents saw the potential in him and paid his tuition fees, despite gossip among some relatives that it was not the right thing to do, probably because music was not deemed as a "proper" field of study.

To save money, he did not return to Singapore during summer vacations while in Boston. Instead, he took courses and earned credits towards graduation.

Rather than writing letters, he would record his voice on cassette tapes and send them home together with music pieces he had arranged. His proud father would then play them for his musician friends.

He was offered a teaching job at Berklee after graduation but returned home at the request of his mother, who said his family needed him.

He became a piano player at the Hilton hotel, and formed a pop band, Hangloose.

He also taught piano.

He recalls how his band was exploited by club operators who made them perform five 45-minute sets a night, seven nights a week.

"You have to pay your dues," he says with a shrug.

Two years later, he set up his own music company and began a 13-year collaboration with Taiwanese record label UFO, which boasted artistes such as Tracy Huang, Dave Wang and Little Tigers.

At the same time, he began arranging music for the then Singapore Broadcasting Corporation and also started his involvement with the National Day parades.

Slowly but steadily, his stature as a versatile musician capable of crossing various languages and marrying different musical styles grew.

He now runs two businesses: Project M, which is involved in musical projects for television and the stage, and Yellow Box Studio, a post-production company.

"I've been blessed. One door led to another," he says of his musical journey, adding that he hopes to focus on composing from now on.

He is especially intrigued by the challenge of blending the different musical styles from the multi-cultural fabric of Singapore.

"I started experimenting during National Day parades. Until today, I'm still trying to refine the work and make it accessible. We do have something to offer the world," he says, his eyes dancing.

The ultimate achievement, he says, would be directing the Olympic Games one day or being awarded the Cultural Medallion, Singapore's highest arts accolade.

In the meantime, the tireless man will continue to plough away at his craft. "It is a lonely path sometimes. I do it out of passion, and you just have to keep on trying."