I've been playing the violin. The Emperor Waltz.

All right, 'playing' is a bit of an exaggeration, but I plied the bow, I sawed about a bit on open strings, under the guidance of a personal helper, and heard something almost tuneful in my left ear. I was reluctant, at first, to get involved. I'm cloth-eared, if not actually tone-deaf (a far more rare condition I am assured, than most of us imagine), and was appalled by the idea of making a public spectacle of myself. But people were so persuasive, so supportive, and it had been so long since anyone proposed making beautiful music: in the end, I just couldn't say no.

It was a Saturday evening in the crypt of St George-in-the East - a handsome Hawksmoor church off the Highway at Wapping, east London - at the close of a concert to mark the end of another term for the East London Late Starters' Orchestra. This had been not so much the triumphant display of a year's achievement, as a jubilant celebration of months of earnest endeavour, and yet, for all its lack of pretensions, it wasn't half bad.

ELLSO is not the most professional orchestra in Britain, but it is seriously fun. After the concert proper, anyone from the audience could choose an instrument - violin, viola, cello - and have a bash. Then the whole ensemble launched into the waltz, and the new recruits were free to string along.

The orchestra, now in its eighteenth year, grew out of an initiative by Tower Hamlets Council to give all children in the borough the opportunity to make music. 'I shall never forget the day my daughter Kate came home with a cello,' ELLSO's founder and father of two, Chris Shurety, told me. 'She was seven years old, she was so pleased, and what was wonderful was that she hadn't been singled out, the whole class had been given the chance to have either a violin or a cello. They'd had a couple of teachers come in and play these instruments, then they said, 'Who wants one?' Everyone put up their hands, and they were each given one to take home. Music-making was treated as a core curriculum subject, it was seen as central to the children's education, and, as a parent, I found it joyful to see it all happening.'

Since that time dozens if not hundreds of adults have felt the same thrill at handling these beautiful instruments, many of them for the first time in their lives. And for most, it comes as a revelation that they, too, can learn to play. It's never too late, and there is nothing, unless their own inhibitions, to prevent them.

The idea was appropriated after the council set up a Saturday centre for the best and most motivated pupils, and invited mums and dads to drop in for a one-hour sample lesson. 'This was not with a view to getting something going among us lot,' said Chris Shurety, 'just to give us a better understanding of what the children were doing. But we went in there, and for me that was it. I had a preliminary lesson on the cello, and I thought, 'This is amazing! I could learn to play these instruments!' He was, then, among the first, but by no means the last to experience the ELLSO epiphany. Time and again I heard his sentiments echoed: 'It was just such an incredible moment.'

ELLSO is all about removing barriers, providing access to music in a friendly, non-competitive environment, for people of mixed abilities, of all ages and social backgrounds. It is non-elitist and non-hierarchical, fees are based on disposable income, and the absolute beginner, happening in, will be handed an instrument and given a brief tutorial, before being invited to play with the ensemble.

'Everyone', according to the orchestra's founding principle, 'has the ability to make music.' But, of course, they have to practise, and the 60-plus members, from Stage 1 (beginners), through Stage 2 (medium), to Stage 3 (advanced), do so assiduously, every Saturday morning, some travelling from as far afield as Colchester, Brighton and Bognor Regis. Then, so eager are many of them, that they also get together in the week for group practice, or have private tuition, or attend workshops and summer schools. It's something they do for themselves, they say, for the personal satisfaction, the social contact, and for the confidence that flows from it. It is a very important part of their lives.

On the morning of the concert, at rehearsals, adrenalin was running high. But there was a strong undercurrent of levity, the church rang with laughter. St George-in-the-East was consecrated in 1729, bombed in the Second World War, rebuilt in 1964. The orchestra has made its home here for the past three years, since it was priced out of the schools where it had its beginnings. It's an ideal base for the East End centred orchestra.

Thus at 9.30 on the Big Day, in the crypt you could hear an up-beat rendering of La Cumpersita (Fernando's Hideaway to you and me) by Stages 2 and 3, while elsewhere beginners had technique sessions. Then the better players got together with the starter-outers for Handel's Water Music, while Stage 2 took themselves off to brush up on technique.

In a small room behind the kitchen, tutor Nick Coote took his cello class, Stages 2 and 3, through Dido's Lament by Purcell. 'I think we should get softer towards the end, because she's dying,' Nick says. 'The other thing that would be really nice is if at the beginning we could get a really longing feel, da-daa-daa daaa, really lean on that note, then diminuendo away.'

Even as Dido plunged the kife into her heart and threw herself upon the funeral pyre, young tutor Gavin Davies took Stage 2 violins in the church, and next door Liz Bell coached first-stagers.

In the crypt, Polish Piotr Jordan conducted an ensemble, springing on his toes as he exhorted the players to ever greater effort. 'As little bow as possible... even on the loud bits you need much less bow... ladies and gentlemen, if we start loud, we cannot do a crescendo, so we start quietly. Much better! Exaggerate the dynamism: when loud, really loud; when quiet, really quiet; see how quiet you can sustain it. I know you can do it. You know you can do it. Ye-es!' He almost took flight.

At 11.20 refreshments were dispensed, a little behind schedule. It was a very chummy time, with everyone relaxed and chatting. 'Anybody coming to France?' Sally Haywill, a mother of three, who teaches English as a second language, issued an open invitation. One of the newer members, she had been so taken by the whole ELLSO ethos that she had organised a week away for anyone who wanted to come along for days of uninterrupted practice.

She vividly recalled first being let loose on a violin: 'I couldn't believe it. It was as though someone had opened a door when I didn't think I was allowed in. Oh yes, I'm making progress. I can't tell you what the notes are, but I can go up and down on the violin, and make a tune, and play with other people. On the first day I played, I was so high with it, I just couldn't sleep that night. It's wonderful having access to music. I listen to a lot more of it now, I go to concerts, it's like a whole new world's opened up. And my children are getting involved. Music has become a feature of our lives.'

If Sally is one of the more raw recruits, Helen Couch is among the older hands. She's 76 now, and hadn't played an instrument until she joined in January 1989, after seeing a two-minute spot about ELLSO on television. 'I thought it was hilarious, the idea that you could play with an orchestra after a couple of hours, I thought it was the funniest thing I'd ever heard,' she confessed. She chose the violin because, she said, she was 'dead lazy', and couldn't imagine lugging a cello on the tube, and because she knew there was an old violin gathering dust under her son's bed. 'I always assumed I was musically illiterate. Well, I still am, but I love it, I really do, although it's hellish hard work. I love the people. I'm ashamed that I'm not better, but I get self-conscious if I practise at home in case the neighbours hear and I'm not getting it right. You can hide in the orchestra, and knowing you can hide gives you confidence. We're improving as a group. Nine times out of ten we start together, which we didn't in the beginning. Now look what it's done for my CV. I've played on stage at the Royal Festival Hall, and played with the Royal College of Music.'

Liz Herbert, who joined ELLSO 13 years ago, had recently begun a three-year stint as its chair. She too, vividly recalled being handed an instrument and finding herself in on the act. 'It was wonderful, having just done a few open strings, to sit in the orchestra and be part of this big sound.' A primary school teacher, she had also enjoyed being the student not the organiser - until she was press-ganged into taking charge of the sheet music - collating, handing out folders. Now as chair, she feels she is giving something back to the orchestra. She was one of the minority to choose the cello. 'But a lot of people really like playing the cello,' she insisted. 'At one time we had 26.'

They also, at one time, had five tutors, back in those piping times when they were funded through adult education in the borough. This ended when the Liberals came to power. The orchestra was forced to reorganise to survive, and now they're down to just four tutors.

As part of the democratic process, after coffee, members numbered off into three groups to discuss the ordering of the timetable and ideas for the millennium. Should Saturday mornings follow a slightly different pattern? Should they introduce more activities? Extend the morning or compress the sessions?

There were grumbles that the mornings always started late. Someone said that coffee breaks dragged on too long, someone else that changeovers were too slow and haphazard. No one was prepared to sacrifice a moment's playing time: nothing must dilute that Saturday experience.

And so to more rehearsals, before going home to rest, and changing into the dark skirt or trousers and a brightly coloured top which is as near as ELLSO gets to a 'uniform'. When you are used to seeing orchestras in black and white, performing as a homogenous whole, it is diverting to see a bunch of strong individuals, all doing their own thing, more or less in concert.

The catholic choice of music played that evening was also very ELLSO. The idea is that members should experience every kind of music, from Renaissance through to contemporary, to overcome fear or antagonism wherever it exists.

Stages 1 and 2 played Trepak by Mortand, Stages 1 and 3 the Hornpipe from Handel's Water Music. Then followed Dido's Lament and La Cumparsita, before the full orchestra came together to play Beethoven's Scherzo, the slow movement from Haydn's larky Surprise Symphony, and finally, Hello Dolly!, a special arrangement by Gavin Davies.

Chris Shurety used to work in local government, was the policy officer for the council's environmental strategy, and Agenda 21 co-ordinator. His involvement with the orchestra meant getting up at 5am, to put in four hours before going to his day job. 'To tell you the truth,' he confessed, 'I was knackered.'

1992 was also, of course, ELLSO's tenth anniversary, a period of fruitful self-criticism, out of which came Contemporary Music Making for Amateurs (COMA), an initiative faithful to the orchestra's ideals, which last year won a Prudential arts award. Now, 'until the Prudential money runs out', Chris Shurety works full time for COMA. 'It's changed my life,' he said, 'it's certainly richer' (although not, he was quick to add, financially). 'And that's what ELLSO has done for lots of other people. Not all will want to carrry on learning an instrument, but if they've had a positive experience, and are beginning to find out what they really do want to learn, it gives them confidence to move on. There are a lot of people who started with ELLSO who've gone on to study for higher degrees and emerged in new careers.'

I hadn't 'played' an instrument since, at age five, I banged out Oranges and Lemons on the triangle with my school percussion band, on stage at the Civic Hall, Croydon. To have the chance, even to hold a violin was... well what everybody says: a revelation.

You know, you really ought to try it.