Tasmin Little, violinist

I first performed at the Royal Festival Hall in 1989. I like the hall very much indeed; it was probably quite trendy at the time it was built, and now it looks slightly old-fashioned - but I rather like that.

It makes me feel nostalgic. The outside belies what goes on inside. It looks rather daunting - bit of a concrete block - but in fact it's very warm and welcoming and they've done a lot to it. It's now quite diverse inside, what with the CD shop and bookshop and cafeterias.

I enjoy the atmosphere of the hall and walking out on to the stage there, and I like the layout of the auditorium from the audience point of view. With the boxes and the seats at the sides and behind you in the choir, you get the feeling that your audience is all around you. It feels genuinely intimate.

Last year I performed the Ligeti concerto in the final concert of the Towards the Millennium festival with Sir Simon Rattle, which was a 10-year-long event celebrating all the music of the 20th century. It felt like a really momentous occasion because it completely sold out, and we had the most fantastic audience. It was a real night to remember.

Keith Miller, RFH employee for 40 years

My involvement with the hall started as a hobby. First I was a steward for about 18 months, and then I was transferred backstage, where I was responsible for looking after the artists, keeping the programme running to time.

I have looked after the Princess of Wales and Prince Charles, Princess Margaret and the Queen Mother. When the Queen Mother comes we always have to remember to put a little cushion on her seat so that she can see over the balcony because she's so tiny. Princess Anne always sits in the auditorium rather than in the royal box, and even though we always book the row in front and behind, people have no idea that she is there.

I once had to have words with Spike Milligan; he was chatting with friends after one of the concerts. When I asked him if he would leave the auditorium, he said he had no intention of taking it with him.

One of the most poignant moments I can remember was the day after the Aberfan mining disaster in 1966 when about 3,000 schoolchildren attended a concert. Most of them were unaware of what had happened. They were all chattering away making a terrific noise, but backstage there was hardly a dry eye in the house.

John Peel, broadcaster and curator of the RFH's 1998 Meltdown festival

I wasn't very keen on organising the festival at first because it clashed with the World Cup, but David Sefton asked me to do it and he's basically a nice chap. So we set up the hall with screens so that people could watch the football if they wanted to. That's why I changed my mind.

My main memory would have to be one balmy evening when I was standing on the riverside with my back to the balcony: on one side I could hear Culture playing and on the other Extreme Noise Terror in the Queen Elizabeth Hall - they're good Ipswich lads, probably the best at what they do.

I could smell the waves of ganja wafting towards me and I thought, "I've done all this." It was my moment of vanity, if you like. What really mattered was that I could have people that I wanted to see - and the venue has a certain cache about it because it is the RFH.

The wonderful thing about the hall is that the people who work there have a really relaxed attitude. Extreme Noise Terror probably aren't everyone's cup of tea, but you don't get staff telling people not to dance and enjoy themselves.

Valerie Solti, patron of the Friends of the London Philharmonic Orchestra

My acquaintance with the RFH goes right back to the beginning. As a child, during the Festival of Britain I was taken there by my mother to see a 3D film, which was the first time I had ever seen anything like that. Much later, when I worked for the BBC on an arts programme, I used to go there to interview people.

There were some wonderful concerts - one of the best ones I can remember was going to see the pianist Vladimir Horowitz on a Sunday afternoon about 20 years ago. He always played at the same time of day. There were lots of musicians in the audience and it was a very exciting atmosphere.

When my husband was music director of the LPO I remember we were always rushing to get to the RFH at the last minute. I remember the excitement of going through the stage door, and up to level three. I discovered my own special route so I could get to my seat quickly as soon as the performance started.

The RFH has a particular smell, a mixture of floor polish and resin from the bows. If I was blindfolded and taken there I'd always know exactly where I was.

At the end of the concerts I always had to rush down the back stairs to get to the side of the stage before everyone else, so I could be there to meet my husband as he came offstage.

Karsten Witt, chief executive of the South Bank Centre

At the moment we are in the middle of transforming the building completely. I imagine how wonderful it must have been in 1951. The impression must have been overwhelming, with the light coming into the building from all sides and the astonishing views.

I am at the RFH probably every other night. One of the most impressive performances I remember was Claudio Abbado and the Berlin Philharmonic. Abbado told us to raise the stage 30cm to improve the acoustics - the difference was amazing. Among the things I like most is the diversity of the programming. Last year we had Placido Domingo and then the next night Radiohead.

For the future, I want to restore the original features of the hall, including the rooftop cafe and the river terrace, to fulfil the vision of the original architects. They wanted the RFH to be one of the best halls in the world.

Interviews by Laura Milne