Roiling Stone magazine, 1990, observed that "Today at 82 years of age, Stephane Grappelli is at the height of his imaginative and technical powers. For nine months of each year Stephane tours the world and the other three months he spends at one of his homes in Paris, Cannes, Brussels or Morocco. He is continually traveling at a pace that would exhaust a person half his age." The following was an interview with the great violinist:

"I used to smoke a lot but I gave it up in 1970, and now my brain is clearer. I must say one thing that helps me through when I'm playing is a couple of whiskies before I go on stage. When I'm at Carnegie Hall, for example, I get a little nervous. It's normal. But when you must attack bang! ‑ you need a little support. Practice is good for the fingers but not good for the imagination. Therefore I play very little before a performance.

Because improvisation forms the basis of what I do I prefer not to expend all my energy and imagination in practice, or in the rehearsal room. So I usually arrive one hour before I'm supposed to perform, have a little run-through with the other guys, take a little drink, some quick conversation, and then I'm on stage. It is my hope that on every occasion I play, the music is as fresh for the audience as it is for me.

"I like my programs to have something soft, something energetic, something slow, something blue, something red, something burning. And it's quite difficult to do that with just one guitar string bass and violin. We arc a bit victimized by the new aspects of electric music, I don't dare to say I'm playing like Heifetz. I play my own style, but I'm trying to get that sound. Those classical guys go very fast, but I go fast in my music too. Why not? It keeps you alive.

 "My childhood was like a Dickens novel. I lost my mother, who was French, when I was three. My father had no choice but to put me in a very poor Catholic orphanage. My father, who was Italian, was a very strange and interesting person. He was the first hippie I ever met, a Latin scholar and a teacher of philosophy.

 "My first impression of live music was when I was six. My father wanted to take me out of the orphanage, and since he knew Isadora Duncan, who had a dancing school, lie asked her if she wanted another student. 'Bring me the child', she said. But I wasn't very successful as a dancer. I played an angel, but when you're not an angel it is difficult. I did hear some wonderful music there. Musicians used to play in her garden, and I remember hearing Debussy's Afternoon of a Faun and the music made me feel like the faun

 "When my father came back from World War I, I moved in with him. And because of my father I became a musician. He bought me a three-quarter violin and all the way home I hugged it so hard I almost broke it. I still have that violin in my desk at home  there are no cracks in it and it is one of the few things of mine that wasn't destroyed during World War II.

"There was no money for lessons so my father took a book from the library and we learned solfeggio together. I never had a violin teacher, so I learned good position and posture by sheer luck. I can't play the notes without the correct classical fingering. But then, a classical musician can't play jazz easily either! It's a different way. When I was fourteen I got a job in a pit band in a cinema. That's where I really learned to play and to read music three hours during the day, three in the evening. I played in tune and that's why they kept me. One day I saw musicians playing in the streets and I decided to do the same and earn some pocket money. Later I taught myself the piano. I liked its harmonic aspect and discovered that I could make a living by playing that too.

"I met Django (Reinhardt) several times in the early '30s. Then in 1934 we were both playing in the same orchestra at the Hotel Claridge in Paris. One day I broke a string and was tuning up backstage when Django joined me. We were fooling around and suddenly started playing 'Dinah' together pretending we were Eddie Lang and Joe Venuti!" The association of Stephane Grappelli and Django Reinhardt in the Quintet of the Hot Club of France is music history. During the '30s the Quintet gave many performances and recorded hundreds of 78s. "The Quintet first visited England in 1937 where we had quite a following because of our records. We toured several times and at one of our London Palladium seasons we shared the bill with Tom Mix and his horse! We were in England in September 1939 when war broke out and Django returned to Paris. I eventually formed my own group and in doing so I made a great number of friends and received a great deal of help from English colleagues. George Shearing played piano with us and we often played for the troops. One night when we were performing there was a terrible bombing. I didn't want to disturb George, who was playing his solo, so I asked the manager of the club if we should stop. 'Keep blowing forever', he shouted. And I didn't dare go because he had our cheque. It was awful! We laugh now, but those damn V2s could drop anywhere." 

After the war Stephane and Django were reunited in London where they recorded together, their first release being the French anthem "La Marseillaise". In 1953 Reinhardt died of a cerebral hemorrhage while playing billiards. Stephane went on touring through Europe with various groups and recorded many albums. After touring extensively, there came a time when he wanted to establish a home base and to spend more time in Paris as well as having more leisure time. He formed a group and played at the Paris Hilton for five years, after which he started moving about again.

In 1973 Diz Disley, long an admirer of Stephane's playing, suggested to the organizers of the Cambridge Festival that they invite the violinist to appear as special guest performer. During the last twenty years he has performed all over the world and has recorded prolifically, releasing albums with musicians as diverse as Duke Ellington, Oscar Peterson, Jean-Luc Ponty, Gary Burton, Bill Coleman, Paul Simon, Slam Stewart, Baden Powell, Barney Kessel, George Shearing, Earl 'Fatha' Hines, the Rowan Brothers, Yehudi Menuhin and YoYo Ma. Several discographers claim that Stephane Grappelli has more records to his credit than any other white solo instrumentalist.

His records include Just one of those things on EMI, Stephane Grappelli Olympia 88 on WEA and Anything goes (Grappelli-Ma) on CBS. Grappelli composed recently the score for the last movie of Louis Mallc, Milou en Mai (CBS records). In constant demand for performances all over the world, that year. Although aware of the fact that Stephane had Stephane laughs at any suggestion of retiring. "Music is my chosen to perform but rarely with guitar line ups in the 20 whole life. I have the joy it brings me personally and I enjoy years following Reinhardt's death, Diz persuaded him to the satisfaction I am able to bring to audiences of all ages. I have two guitars and bass for the Cambridge event. I also get the opportunity to travel constantly and that in concert was a tremendous success before an audience of itself is a major interest. I enjoy talking with young people 25,000 mainly young people and finding out what is going on now for that will be our tomorrow. I suppose I'll play till I drop."

In 1975, Stephane's many and devoted years of service to music were recognized by the government of France when he was made a member of the Legion of Honour.