When you realize that everything is staged, then nothing is staged.
Whatever you do as an artist, people have to have an experience. It's not about the details or the wrong note or what tuning the piano is. It doesn't matter. It all doesn't matter. It only matters what people think when they leave the room and what their impression was.
There's a narrow bit which is still possible, which is left from all of the ones you can't do right now, and then you make the best out of that. You wouldn't have done that by yourself at any other moment of time.
Why does the world need a Piano Day? For many reasons. But mostly, because it doesn't hurt to celebrate the piano and everything around it: performers, composers, piano builders, tuners, movers and most important, the listener.
The music works by itself, but you can change the perception of it by the way you dress, the way you move, the things you say, the things you don't say. And when you realize that everything is staged, then nothing is staged. There's a kind of liberation to that.
What I love most about playing in front of people has something to do with a certain kind of energy exchange. The attention and appreciation of my audience feeds back into my playing. It really seems as if there is a true and equal give and take between performer and listener, making me aware of how much I depend on my audience. And since the audience is different every night, the music being played will differ too. Every space I performed in has its own magic and spirit.
The only thing I try to watch carefully is that I never lose the love for the instrument. That's also why I decided against a professional piano career when I was younger.
I get bored with things easily. I always have to change something to keep myself excited. When I feel like I did a really good classical and acoustic album, the next thing I want to do is the opposite. And then I want to do the opposite of that. When I work alone after that, I feel like I should work with a lot of people. When I work with a lot of people after that, I feel that I should work alone.
When I make a fool out of myself or when I don't take myself seriously, I'm in a comfortable spot where I don't need to be reasonable. There's no reason to be reasonable. This is what I want to do and where I have full control. I determine what I want to do.
The music I do in live performances is made for a specific situation. I know that people are sitting down and shutting up and they're with me for 90 minutes. They're totally with me. Whatever I do, I know they have my attention and they follow my pace.
I feel like my strong side is not being technically perfect at the piano, but at curating my own work. It's not painful for me. I don't feel sad when I have to leave things out, put them in the safe, and not have them in public. I realize many artists feel sad about this process, but for me that's the most exciting part: By losing the weaker moments you make the strong moments stronger.
You can learn to write. But what you write is something that depends on your taste and on your vision or whatever. Also, of course, the music I listened to inspired my idea of music. When people ask me "Where's your inspiration? Where does it come from?" I have no idea. Music is about music. Not about life and love.
I don't know where genre really comes from. I grew up with parents who were artists, and I was always interested in what music they were listening to and open to all kinds of genres. So it's nice to see that whole families come to my concerts. I like having an element in my music that is inclusive rather than exclusive, without being pop for the sake of it. It's not important to me how many people listen to it - it's more wonderful that it brings people who wouldn't usually meet into the same room.
Confusion is the only state of mind we have where we are really out of our patterns and what we expect. Because of that, you're open to new experiences. The irritation in concert performances is really important. When people get really irritated, they listen on the front of their stool and ask, "What's going on?" If I deliver what they expect - sad, soft piano music - then people would just shut down.
I would be doomed if I didn't invent humor in my life. When I was young, I had all these punk and performance-art bands, dressed in costumes and painting the room and getting kicked out by police. Now when I perform I still feel the stage is more than just where you put your instruments. It's where you can do whatever you feel like.