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Long read guest post by Dr Michael Low, in part in response to this article by Zach Manzi

For as long as I can remember, Classical music has touched me in a way no other musical genre was able to. This, coupled with my love for playing the piano, made it inevitable that I would dedicate my life to these two overlapping fields.

‘Musicians must be the luckiest people alive!’ I recall saying to my father as a wide-eyed teenager, ‘They travel the world and play beautiful music. Imagine the joy of sharing something that is so personal to you with thousands and thousands of people; I want to be a musician one day.’ My father was an amateur French horn player who went into finance and business to support his family, but, despite his career change, he never lost his love for music, and was supportive of my decision to dedicate my life to music.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said of everyone to whom I pitched my dream career, though hindsight shows that rejection and setbacks are just part of the journey in all walks of life. One extended family member was dismissive of my career choice and told me that I would end up ‘cleaning tables in restaurants for money’ (a derogatory statement itself aimed at those in the hospitality industry). Needless to say, I have not seen or been in touch with this particular person since I left England for South Africa.

My piano teacher at the time, Richard Frostick, also expressed his reservations about my choice of career. Richard told me that the views expressed by this particular member of my extended family were done out of care rather than cruelty, and that a reality check was needed on my part. However, it was the words of Graham Fitch, my teacher during my studies at London’s Centre for Young Musicians, that gave me the greatest hope: ‘If this is your dream, then I would like to believe that anything is possible.’ Graham warned that the competitive nature of Classical music grows in inverse relation to the ever-decreasing career opportunities, but added, ‘there will always be a place for someone who is talented and works hard.’

Because I was a late starter, a lot of catching up was needed on a technical and musical level. And I was willing to forsake my academic subjects for the purpose of pianistic and musical developments. Unfortunately, in my desire to be ‘on par’ with my pianistic contemporaries, many short cuts were taken and numerous corners slashed. I hadn’t taken time to learn the true value of rhythmic discipline and develop my sense of internal rhythm, which meant that everything was very approximate (in other words, I would play what I thought the music should be, as opposed to what is actually written). But I got away with it (at least for the time being) thanks to my musical temperament, as well as the uncanny Chinese ability to (more or less) replicate my favourite recordings. It was not until a few years later when I read Artur Rubenstein’s biography that I understood the following quote: ‘To Hell with the Germans and their exact fingers! TEMPERAMENT!!!’).

Failed auditions and disappointing performances mark every musician’s journey, but I kept my eyes firmly on the prize. The summer of 1996 was to be a watershed moment. I met an eminent piano professor at a summer school who expressed an interest in my playing. He openly told everyone during a masterclass that I had ‘a marvellous musical temperament, but very little else.’ At the same time he assured me that when all the aspects of my playing had developed, that I will be ‘some’ player. I was encouraged by these words and further lessons were arranged. Sadly, our last meeting was not a positive one. He reduced me to tears by laughing and ridiculing my playing. A few years ago I found out that the same professor has passed on. I sometimes wondered what he would make of my playing if he were to hear me now.

My university years proved to be some of the most productive in my life. I threw myself into learning some of the most challenging piano repertoire and listening to many of the 20th century’s greatest pianists. What is so special about their playing? What is their ‘X factor’? These were some of the questions that I often asked myself when I was in the listening library. Unfortunately, many of my contemporaries didn’t understand my obsession. One of them called me ‘a sad f**k’ when we crossed paths for the second day in a row. A final year student asked me, ‘Why do you insist on learning all these difficult pieces when you will never get the opportunity to perform them?’ I responded with just a smile, as I didn’t want to come across as rude, always reminding myself that I could spend the rest of my musical life ‘polishing,’ but the structural labour on the musical sculptures had to be done right now.

I was proud that all my efforts were not in vain, and there was validation amongst my lecturers and peers in regards to my hard work. One of the highlights of my student years was making my concerto debut performing Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto. But all of this came at a cost: one of my closest friends wrote me a letter when she was going through a particular difficult period during her final year, asking, ‘Where were you when I most needed you, Michael?’ I replied with, ‘I am sad to say that I was nowhere’. I was willing to sacrifice everything for an ideal while neglecting the more important aspects of life, such as the relationship between friends. I consoled myself with the excuse that some of the most creative personalities have never been ‘people’s people’, and how wrong was I? It was only years later that I came to the realisation that piano playing has always been a reflection of life, whereas life has never been just about playing the piano.

In spite of my enormous desire to make huge musical and pianistic strides, my playing was riddled with idiosyncrasies and plagued with physical tension. In hindsight, I can only thank my lucky stars that I didn’t pick up some form of physical injury, especially when I was practising up to six hours daily. I was told that I had ‘massive technical problems,’ but the reality was that my lack of rhythmic discipline and internal pulse finally caught up with me. The big musical structures of works such as Liszt’s ballades and Beethoven’s sonatas fragmented into intimate miniatures, and there was little awareness of the longer melodic line especially in the musical direction of the composition. ‘Moments of brilliance are often followed by moments of incompetence,’ was one lecturer’s assessment of my playing. I was also a ‘nightmare’ student to mark, according to the hierarchy, because I was so inconsistent. Though my lecturers may have had a point, one part of me didn’t take their criticism too seriously as another part of me strongly felt that their words had more to do with my inability to negotiate departmental politics. I reassured myself with the thought that the musicians who made the greatest impression on me were often some of the most controversial. Who on earth wants to play a mediocre 75 per cent in a performance anyway? At least I could hit the 90s, even though at times I was wide of the mark. ‘Just keep going and one day everything will fall into place,’ I told myself.

VIDEO (Michael Low plays Beethoven/Alkan)

South Africa gave me a chance to press the reset button, but the stakes were too high. I told myself that being an international scholarship student meant that I had to be close to ‘perfect’ every time I performed, when this was far from the truth. I yielded to my musical neurosis by spending hours on end polishing my repertoire when I should have taken advantage of the considerable performing opportunities available. And because I raised the performance bar to near impossibility, it only meant that I had that much further to fall when things didn’t go as planned. Every time I walked off stage, I was haunted by wrong notes, memory lapses as well as other interpretive discrepancies. That is not to say that there weren’t moments where I made an impression, but the consistency that I so desperately craved never materialised, and it often felt like the harder I worked, the further away I was straying from my musical goal. ‘If it doesn’t happen for you now, maybe you have to accept the fact that it will never happen,’ was one professor’s assessment of my progress. Another told me that while he found my playing ‘very sensitive and very musical,’  he also wondered if I had what it takes to ‘stomach my nerves.’ The same person also assured me that, ‘There is no shame in this, I know a lot of wonderful musicians who cannot quite make things happen on stage.’ These words may sound harsh, but they were nothing like the brutal assessment given by a visiting professor, who told me, ‘Sort out your rhythm, or stop playing the piano entirely.’ I was desolate because I knew that was the truth. I looked on as my musical peers gained scholarships to study with some of the industry’s most prolific performers in Europe and America. Although I feel a sense of happiness and pride for them, I now knew the inevitable: I would never have a career as a concert pianist.

When I started teaching in my late twenties, I was determined that none of my students would be as rhythmically undisciplined as I was. Hence, I started formulating my own teaching method and in doing so found some form of closure with regard to my inability to become a performer. The fabled stories of Adele Marcus and some of the 20th century’s greatest pedagogues gave me hope: ‘The greatest performers don’t necessarily make the greatest teachers,’ I said to myself. I was determined to be the best educator I could be. Even though I still perform in the occasional soirees and private functions, the fire within me that longs for the stage no longer burns with the same intensity. I then found Christianity, which affirmed my ability as a mere mortal. ‘There are those who are chosen by God to be performers,’ I recall saying to a colleague, ‘and then there are people like myself who chose to do music as a career, and that is the difference.’ The elders in my congregation praised me for my insightfulness, while my Christian friends commended me for entrusting my life in the hands of the Almighty. ‘Everything seems to make sense now’, I said to myself. Little was I to know that in the years to come, the one person who would challenge both my spiritual and musical beliefs turned out to become the most important person of my life.

Piano and Classical music took a further ‘back seat’ when I fell in love with the game of golf. I saw a lot of parallels between this strange yet beautiful game and playing the piano. I traded the practice room for the driving range, and I signed up to become a member of one of South Africa’s top golf clubs. For the next three years I learned only one piece of piano music – Scott Joplin’s Bethena Waltz – which haunted me for weeks after I watch David Fincher’s movie adaptation of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Any spare time I had was spent forging a repeatable golf swing or inputting musical scores into Sibelius as I looked to finish my PhD in Music. Playing the piano was now a distant memory, and the truth is that I had not given myself a timeline as to when I would reconnect with my black and white friend again.

In Part 2, Michael Low describes how he reconnected with the piano.

As a teenager, Michael Low studied piano under the guidance of Richard Frostick before enrolling in London’s prestigious Centre for Young Musicians, where he studied composition with the English composer Julian Grant, and piano with the internationally acclaimed pedagogue Graham Fitch. During his studies at Surrey University in England, Michael made his debut playing Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto in the 1999 Guildford International Music Festival, before graduating with Honours under the tutelage of Clive Williamson. In 2000, Michael obtained his Masters in Music (also from Surrey University), specialising in music criticism, studio production and solo performance under Nils Franke.

An international scholarship brought Michael to the University of Cape Town, where he resumed his studies with Graham Fitch. During this time, Michael was invited to perform Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto for The Penang Governer’s Birthday Celebration Gala Concert. In 2009, Michael obtained his Doctorate in Music from the University of Cape Town under the supervision of South Africa greatest living composer, Hendrik Hofmeyr. His thesis set out to explore the Influence of Romanticism on the Evolution of Liszt’s Transcendental Etudes.

In 2013, Michael started a project in Singapore collaborating with The Kawai School Elite in a series of masterclasses and workshops for teachers and students. Having grown up in the East and lived his life in the West, Michael believes that both cultures has much to offer and envisage an exchange between Singapore and Cape Town in the future.

Michael is also the co-founder of the Elvira Ensemble – a Classical Chamber Orchestra specialising in the Piano Concertos of Mozart and Beethoven as well as Soundtracks from Blockbuster Hollywood Movies. The Ensemble have given performances at several high-profile events such as the wedding of Justin Snaith, South Africa’s leading race-horse trainer. In January 2020, the ensemble was engaged to perform at the wedding of the former Miss Universe and Miss South Africa, Miss Demi-Leigh Nel Peters.

Michael has also worked with numerous eminent teachers and pianists, including Nina Svetlanova, Niel Immelman, Frank Heneghan, James Gibb, Phillip Fowke, Renna Kellaway, Carolina Oltsmann, Florian Uhlig, Gordon Fergus Thompson, Francois du Toit and Helena van Heerden.

Michael currently holds teaching positions in two of Cape Town’s exclusive education centres: Western Province Preparatory School and Herschel School for Girls. He is very much sought after as a passionate educator of young children.

Michael has also served as a jury member in the 2nd WPTA Singapore International Piano Competition in 2020. He has been engaged for a series of talks and masterclasses with the WPTA Indonesia in September of 2021.

Michael Low’s website

Video credits:

Director: Bill Chen https://vimeo.com/billagechen

Sound Engineer: Liam Pitcher https//www.liampitcher.com

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Who or what inspired you to pursue a career in music and who or what have  been the most important influences on your musical life and career?

Music was part of the house in which I grew up as both my parents were  wonderful musicians: my father was the Cathedral organist in Ottawa, Canada for 50 years, and my mother a piano (and English) teacher. She started  me off when I was three years old, though I was already playing some toy  instruments before that. So they were the biggest influences of course.  I always had excellent teachers: Earle Moss and Myrtle Guerrero at the Royal Conservatory of Music in Toronto (I never lived in Toronto, only  went there for lessons); and especially the French pianist Jean-Paul Sevilla at the University of Ottawa. He was a huge influence, being a marvellous player himself, especially of the Romantic and French repertoire. But he was also the first person I heard perform Bach’s Goldberg Variations, which he did magnificently. I also studied classical ballet for 20 years from the age of 3 to 23, and that was a huge influence on me in every way, and very beneficial for playing the piano.  I also sang in my father’s choir, played violin for 10 years, and also the recorder. All of those things made me the musician I am today.

What have been the greatest challenges of your career so far?

The whole thing has been a challenge. From beginning to end. Even if you have the talent, it’s nothing without the work. I’ve sacrificed a lot to be where I am today, but that’s OK. I struggled to get known as a young  pianist. I did many competitions. I won some, got thrown out in others.  When I did win a big prize (the 1985 Toronto Bach Competition), at least that meant I didn’t have to do any more. But then it was up to me  to keep the momentum going. I’ve had good and bad experiences with agents. I’ve always done a lot for my own career. An enormous amount, actually. It was a challenge to come to London in 1985 when I was totally unknown and make a name for myself here. I worked hard at that.  It took me 15 years of renting Wigmore Hall myself before I started selling it out and being promoted by the hall instead. The recording contract with Hyperion I got myself. That was one of the best things ever, also thanks to the great integrity that label has. Artists of my  generation have also had to adapt to the social media world and work with that in a good way. Perhaps the biggest challenge is to stay sane and healthy when you are doing a job that demands the utmost of you, both physically and emotionally.

Which performances/recordings are you most proud of?

I’ve been happy with every recording I’ve done for Hyperion in the past 26  years. I never leave the studio unless I feel we have the best possible  versions. Of course things change over the years—that’s only natural.  But each CD is a document of how I best played the works at that time.  Apart from my Bach cycle, I am happy that I’ve recorded so much French music (Ravel, Chabrier, Fauré , Debussy, Messiaen, Rameau, Couperin) and  also the more recent Scarlatti CDs. Great stuff! I’m almost finished my Beethoven Sonata cycle which has taken me 15 years, and that gives me enormous satisfaction.

Which particular works do you think you perform best?

I’ve always done a very wide repertoire. People think I only play Bach, but no. In my teenage years I was more known for the big romantic works like the Liszt Sonata and the Schumann Sonatas, though of course everybody knew that I played Bach. I think it’s important for a good musician to play in many different styles. On the whole I like to take complicated works and make them sound easy (like Bach’s Art of Fugue).

What do you do off stage that provides inspiration on stage?

Everything you experience in life goes into your music and your interpretations. Talking with friends, reading books, going to the theatre, travelling,  seeing a movie, reading the news, experiencing the tragedy of this awful  pandemic….all of that ends up in what you produce later on at the  piano.

How do you make your repertoire choices from season to season?

Often it follows recording projects because I like to perform what I am going  to record, of course. But also it depends on what people ask you to do.  It’s a very difficult thing, choosing programmes for a whole year, and I’ve never been one to play the same programme all season. I can change  several times a month.

Do you have a favourite concert venue to perform in and why?

Oh, just one where people don’t cough!

What do you feel needs to be done to grow classical music audiences/listeners?

Just go out and perform each time in a way that makes people want to hear you again. Then you build an audience. If a concert is boring, nobody is  going to return. You have to make people really want to go to hear you.  Of course there’s all the stuff about developing a younger audience, and that’s extremely important. I support a project in my home town of Ottawa, Canada called ORKIDSTRA which gives free music lessons to children in under-served areas of the city. It’s wonderful to see how  much learning an instrument adds to their lives and to their general  development and sense of community.

What is your most memorable concert experience?

I don’t know about most memorable, but certainly playing the Turangalila  Symphony at the BBC Proms in the Royal Albert Hall in July 2018 was a night to remember. Fantastic performance, conducted by Sakari Oramo.  Very moving. Great audience. That’s the right hall for that piece. If I never play it again it doesn’t matter—I had that experience.

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

Success?  Well, playing a piece you have worked very hard on, and finally  memorising it and performing it well in public. That gives great satisfaction. Material success, as we have seen with this pandemic, can vanish in an instant. I suppose success is when concert promoters think of you when they are putting together their season. You have to have something they want to sell. When you have that something and have totally kept your integrity and got there because you’re good and worked  hard, then I think that’s success. But I don’t really like to think of  “success”. It’s very fragile.

What do you consider to be the most important ideas and concepts to impart to aspiring musicians?

To play their instrument with joy and not to be stiff and tense when they play. They must easily communicate with their audience and show that every part of their body is feeling the music.

Where would you like to be in 10 years’ time?

Alive.

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Playing for a friend and having a meal afterwards.

What is your most treasured possession?

My new Fazioli F278 concert grand piano.

One of the world’s leading pianists, Angela Hewitt appears in recital and as soloist with major orchestras throughout Europe, the Americas, Australia, and Asia. Her interpretations of the music of J.S. Bach have established her as one of the composer’s foremost interpreters of our  time.

Born in 1958 into a musical family (the daughter of the Cathedral organist and choirmaster in Ottawa, Canada), Angela began her piano  studies age three, performed in public at four and a year later won her  first scholarship. In her formative years, she also studied classical ballet, violin, and recorder. From 1963-73 she studied at Toronto’s Royal Conservatory of Music with Earle Moss and Myrtle Guerrero, after which she completed her Bachelor of Music in Performance at the  University of Ottawa in the class of French pianist Jean-Paul Sévilla, graduating at the age of 18. She was a prizewinner in numerous piano  competitions in Europe, Canada, and the USA, but it was her triumph in the 1985 Toronto International Bach Piano Competition, held in memory of Glenn Gould, that truly launched her international career.

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Who or what inspired you to pursue a career in music and who or what have been the most important influences on your musical life and career?

I was inspired from music and art from my first life and birth. My Grandmother, Katharina, bought a Steinway on the occasion of my birth, and I still have the original receipt from this purchase. During my birth, music by Chopin had been played. I began to play at the early age of 3. Still  From a young age, I played pieces from memory. To study music and piano was self-evident.

The most important influences in my career are first, as already pointed out, my grandmother; later my teachers Bruno Leonardo Gelber, Poldi Mildner, Shura Cherkassky and Herbert Seidel. Through them I’m a representative and guardian of the great Romantic Tradition – a tradition, which I preserve for myself, but also pass on to my students.

Today, being a recipient of the renowned ‘Goethe-Prize of Frankfurt/Main, presented to me in the Paulskirche in Frankfurt in January 2020, was another decisive challenge and turning point in my career.

What have been the greatest challenges of your career so far?

My latest project, ‘Chronological Chopin’ (Divine Art label ddc 25752), and my current project ‘Fantasies’ with major works by Robert Schumann (also with Divine Art)

Which performances/recordings are you most proud of?

‘Chronological Chopin’ and the Goldberg-Variations (Bayer), but also the Chopin – Schumann Anniversary Edition 2010 (MSR-Classics), Schumann: Kreisleriana Op. 16 and the Symphonic Etudes Op. 13, including the Variations posthumes (Bayer), Schumann – Liszt: Fantasie in C major Op. 17 and Sonata in B minor (Bayer), Scriabin: Piano Works, Opp. 2 – 74 (Bayer), and the DVD with Liszt: Piano Transcriptions of Schubert Songs and Godowsky Symphonic Metamorphoses on Waltzes and Themes of Johann Strauss (Arthaus), produced by WDR-Television. These productions have been broadcast on all major tv-channels since 1997, and today they are available on Fidelio, a new tv-channel from ORF and UNITEL.

But I’m also proud of and happy that the highlights of my ‘Chronological Chopin’ enjoyed a re-release in 2018 on a luxury 2-vinyl-edition from‘Divine Art.

Which particular works do you think you perform best?

Bach: Partita in C minor, BWV 826, Chromatic Fantasia and Fugue, BWV 903, Italian Concerto, BWV 971

Weber: Rondo brilliant, Op. 62

Franck: Prelude, Choral and Fugue

Chopin: Prélude in C sharp minor, Op. 45, Ballade No. 3 in A flat major, Op. 47, Fantaisie in F minor, Op. 49, Ballade No. 4 in F minor, Op. 52, Scherzo No. 4 in E major, Op. 54, Berceuse in D flat major, Op. 57, Barcarolle in F sharp major, Op. 60, Polonaise-Fantaisie in A flat major, Op. 61

Mendelssohn: Variations sérieueses, Op. 54

Schumann: Kreisleriana Op. 16, Fantasy C-major, Op. 17, Arabeske Op. 18, Fantasies Op. 12

What do you do off stage that provides inspiration on stage?

Hugo Shirley in ‘International Piano’ (February 2020) described me as a “multifaceted pianist”, who “unites intellectual clarity with an intuitive sense of colour, influenced by his artistic upbringing and his parallel life as a scuba diver”. Yes, I’m inspired in my parallel life by the experiences from the underwater world. As a ‘PADI Master Instructor’ I can refer to more than 8500 logged dives on the oceans all over the world and have visited countries even in out-of-the-way areas. I’m also certified to teach classes for Underwater-Photography and Videography, and I’m the official Ambassador of the PADI Project Aware Foundation for the “Protecting of Our Ocean Planet.” (If interested, one can visit my site under: www.diving-adventure.org

The inspiration of the variety of colours of the underwater world I convert into differentiated sounds in my artistic interpretations, a phenomenon called synesthesia.

How do you make your repertoire choices from season to season?

I try to be at home in all epochs and styles of music, to cover the whole literature. But mainly I like to focus on Bach, Chopin and the German Romantics

Do you have a favourite concert venue to perform in and why?

Yes, indeed I have: Carnegie Hall, New York. The acoustics are unique and outstanding. And of course also the Elbphilharmonie in Hamburg. Besides the acoustics, the hall there has a singular mood and atmosphere.

What do you feel needs to be done to grow classical music audiences/listeners?

I fear losing the tradition; this has already begun in school for children with a false “system of learning”. Back to the roots of learning, that the experience and realization of values is a way to the future …

What is your most memorable concert experience?

Japan, Tokyo: Bunka Kaikan and Suntory Hall

USA, New York: Here I once played a sensational ‘American STEINWAY D’ number ‘207’; I had the chance to selected this piano for a recital in New York City in the concert basement of Steinway Hall on 57th street, assisted by my longtime friend Peter Goodrich, who was chief of the concert and artists department of Steinway NY. In my career, I have played and performed on countless excellent and singular instruments, but I never will forget the number, and the unique and warm sound of this instrument, the ‘207’… Now I’m sure I made a major mistake not to have purchased this gem….it was “love at first sight”.

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

True success is connected and bounded to the truth of interpretation. There begins and starts a long lasting experience: the chance that the artistry of a true artist will live on for generations, and will influence other epochs. This is the meaning of artistic integrity – and the definition of success.

Related to this, one could ask “what  is talent?”, to which I would immediately answer: “To have the strength, power, endurance, courage and stamina to start new after each setback.”

These characters blend into one: Virtue

What do you consider to be the most important ideas and concepts to impart to aspiring musicians?

I would like to rephrase the question: What I would not impart to aspiring musicians? If they are not authentic and true to themselves, if they do not express the music in a proper and thoughtful way.

Where would you like to be in 10 years’ time?

To be even more successful and to achieve “musical heaven”, which would mean artistic truth

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Being on stage and to feel at one with the (art)work and the audience

What is your most treasured possession?

My two very special Steinway D-274 pianos, which I use for all my recordings and important recitals/concerts.

Also my intelligence, the alertness of my mind and my indefensible intuition, which provides me a special view of life and art, and my visual memory

To lose both, or even only one of this indispensable unit, would mean the end of my life; it really would kill me

What is your present state of mind?

Inspired, vigilant, alert and ambitious for more artistic ideas and inspiration, eagerly looking forward to my upcoming projects.

Burkard Schliessmann, recipient of the renowned Goethe-Prize of Frankfurt/Main 2019/20, Germany, is one of the most compelling pianists and artists of the modern era.

Read more schliessmann.com

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Who or what inspired you to pursue a career in music?

When I think back to the moment that led to me majoring in music, it’s funny that it wasn’t some Hollywood-style lightbulb thing—the way it happened was almost forgettable. I’d seriously played music my entire life, but I was also one of those obnoxiously accomplished kids who did everything and was proficient at every subject, so when it came time to do college applications I applied for programs in multiple fields. I ended up applying to and attending conservatory because my piano teacher stopped me after a performance and told me, seriously, that I couldn’t ever give up music. No one else had given me that kind of direction, so I took that bit of counsel and ran with it.

I figured I would follow music as far as it would take me; I promised myself that if there came a day where it no longer brought me joy and I’d wrung all the love that I could out of it, I would stop. That day hasn’t come yet.

Who or what have been the most important influences on your musical life and career?

When I was really little, I would watch Victor Borge on PBS, and I just adored everything about him; he made music so funny but he was also just a phenomenal musician. He was warm and silly and the silliness didn’t detract from the beauty of the music, and I think that was a really crucial thing for me to absorb at an early age, since classical music in general can take itself way too seriously. A lot of people get hung up on things like “greatness” and “nobility” and “transcendence” in classical music, and don’t get me wrong, those elements exist, but there’s also a lot of humor and irony and self-deprecation in music as well, and I think we do ourselves a disservice if we pretend the art form doesn’t contain all these very human things.

He was just a master of presenting music to audiences in a way that was really accessible and entertaining. When I was little I didn’t know much about music history or advanced theory, and I didn’t have to to enjoy Victor Borge’s performances. That’s something I keep in mind whenever I prepare performances, since I like to talk to the audience about the music; how do I teach them something about the music in a way that’s entertaining, where you don’t feel like you’re being lectured? I don’t get as slapsticky as Borge, and I’m nowhere near as funny as he is, but that accessible humor is something I always aim for.

There have been a lot of other influences in my life, of course, and I’ve been lucky to have amazing mentors in the field of music, but I think a lot of my guiding philosophy all goes back to Victor Borge.

What have been the greatest challenges of your career so far?

I’m really self-conscious about the fact that I’m not on the traditional track that pianists usually take. I didn’t do competitions when I was young because my teacher was very rightly concerned that competition culture would be really rough on me, since I was a pretty shy and sensitive kid. I didn’t go to a big-name conservatory, I haven’t won any major competitions or been picked up by a label or agency, and I’m not pursuing a career in academia. I’ve read biographies and memoirs and interviews by pianists I deeply admire where they actually, literally say, if you haven’t hit these traditional milestones by the time you’re eighteen, you need to give up, because you will never make it.

I know objectively I’m pretty good at playing the piano, but I still have trouble believing that anyone will want to listen to me. I also know that I’m not remotely the only person who feels this way, and that there are a lot of independent classical musicians out there who have overcome the same problems, but doing your own thing still feels very lonely sometimes.

Which performances/recordings are you most proud of?

I think my recording of Cécile Chaminade’s concert etude “Automne” (released in May) might be my favorite recording that I’ve made yet. I’m at a point where I feel like I’m constantly torn between wanting to sound like other people, following the rules that my teachers have drummed into me, and trying new things and finding my own voice. I feel like the Chaminade recording is, so far, the closest I’m come to playing something in a way that sounds really like me.

I’m sure in X number of years or after X number of recordings I’ll look back on it and go, oh my gosh, this is terrible, why did I make these musical decisions or play like this, but you gotta start somewhere.

Which particular works do you think you perform best?

I absolutely love playing Beethoven, Liszt, Chopin, etc. but I have this horrible anxiety whenever I perform their music, particularly the really famous pieces, because there are all these legendary recordings and performances that I feel like I have no chance of living up to them. And when you play that music, even if you have something really strong to say and have put your own stamp on it, you feel like everyone’s bringing their own different expectations to listening and you’re just set up to fail.

I think, personally, I perform best when it’s music that I love but that isn’t as well-known, because instead of trying to meet this invisible expectation, I’m coming from a place where I know it’s likely the audience doesn’t know what to expect and it’s on me to create something that makes it worth their while. Sometimes that’s lesser-known works by canonic composers, like Liszt’s “Les jeux d’eaux à la villa d’Este”—I just love performing that piece so much, it’s not what you’d expect but it’s such a crowd pleaser. And lately I’ve been adding music by traditionally underplayed women composers to my repertoire, and the amazing thing is that audiences love those works. I’ve had amazing responses to the Clara Schumann and Cécile Chaminade pieces I’ve played in concert, and oftentimes I’ll get feedback that people actually enjoy those pieces more than the famous stuff they’ve already heard a lot.

How do you make your repertoire choices from season to season?

My teacher usually recommends pieces—he has an uncanny way of picking unexpected crowd-pleasers for me—and I often go completely off-book and will learn other pieces when something really grabs me. The Louise Farrenc etude I recently released is one of those; I heard Konstanze Eickhorst’s recording of it, and was so utterly smitten that I dropped everything to learn it immediately, and then recorded it just a few months later.

I also pick my repertoire so I can have options putting together balanced programs that work for different audiences; I kind of think of a concert program as being like a really good meal, where you have a variety of flavors that all complement each other and take you on a journey.

Incorporating a 50/50 gender balance into my solo programs has also been a really interesting challenge, because when I’m presenting less-heard music to audiences, I have to think both about how certain pieces go together thematically as well as how it feels for the listener, going from something they know well to something that’s new, and vice versa. I also have to make sure

I’m not unintentionally reinforcing lazy stereotypes, like having a program where all the male composers ’works are really fast and agitated and all the female composers ’works are slow and lyrical. I know I’ve done my job when I’ve put a bunch of disparate stuff together and people say that they enjoyed the whole thing.

Do you have a favourite concert venue to perform in and why?

There’s a private house concert I do every year at the home of a dear friend with a wonderful Steinway grand; it’s just an incredibly lovely experience because she rustles up a whole audience of people who just really love classical music and enjoy listening to me talk about it and it doesn’t feel like a performance so much as a warm and nerdy afternoon. I wish I could share that kind of experience with the whole world, because it’s just so much fun.

What is your most memorable concert experience?

Ha, the first thing that comes to mind is that time I had a memory slip performing the Prokofiev Third Concerto with orchestra—I noodled around for a bit and somehow got out of it fine, but I still get panicky reliving it.

On further thought, I gave a lecture recital last year (2019) on Clara Schumann’s G Minor Piano Sonata, and I still feel all warm and happy remembering it, because the audience was so wonderful and engaged. It was put on by a nonprofit that does free community events, and the audience was primarily older classical music enthusiasts, who conventional wisdom says are typically the people least willing to listen to new stuff. But I just talked about how awesome Clara Schumann was, why her music isn’t as well known, and what makes her sonata so compelling; I can’t describe how amazing it feels to see a room full of people fully engaged and interested while you talk at them about something you really care about. And you can tell how engaged your audience is while you’re performing! Even if you can’t see them, there’s a certain energy you can feel. When I played I felt like that audience was with me the whole time, experiencing every phrase and going on that emotional journey. And afterwards we had a Q&A session, and they asked so many questions about Clara Schumann and the sonata, and a lot of them based their questions on what they heard in the performance. It felt like a culmination of why I love this art form so much.

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

When I was younger I equated fame with success and I just wanted to be, like, mega-famous. Now the idea of being recognized on the street is horrifying to me, and I feel a lot more wary about the idea of being treated as some kind of product or commodity. I also have my reservations about the very concept of celebrity, the idea that people might feel like they know you, even though they only know this small part of you that you’ve put on display. So my personal definition of success is a lot more nuanced now.

I think success is a state of being where you’re doing work you’re passionate about, where you feel like you’re being true to your own voice, and you have some audience who your work resonates with. I think, especially in classical music, a factor of success is also how much your work reaches people who aren’t already deep in the field. I feel really validated when people who say “I don’t know anything about classical music” tell me they really enjoyed a performance or a recording, or that I taught them something. Art has to keep finding bigger audiences in order to survive, so I think a truly successful artist is one who continues reaching those audiences.

What do you consider to be the most important ideas and concepts to impart to aspiring musicians?

I’ve learned so much from the past couple years of working that I feel like I could write a whole book of unsolicited advice. I think the first concept that aspiring musicians absolutely need to know is that classical music is not a meritocracy. You are not necessarily going to get anywhere purely based on your talent or even your work ethic, because like any other industry, connections are everything and in a chaotic world, luck can be everything. And it’s really unfortunate, but first-generation musicians are always going to have a much harder time making it than people from families who know the unspoken institutional rules of classical music. The flip side of that is that if you recognize that talent isn’t the only thing that matters, you can leverage your other skills and qualities. You don’t have to be the most talented musician in the room to be successful—there will always be people who are better than you are, but that doesn’t mean there’s no hope for you. You just have to figure out what you have to offer the world.

I think it’s also really critical to get rid of this expectation that if you’re a musician, your whole personality has to revolve around music. I think that’s part of why some young musicians get prematurely burnt out and jaded—I know people who got disenchanted with music in their teens and early twenties and ended up without any other identity to cling to, which is just really tragic. I really do think you should be a whole person outside of music, and it’s okay to be into non-classical music and non-music media and pop culture and whatever else floats your boat. The world is full of so many fascinating things for your brain to chew on, you know?

What is your present state of mind?

I’ve been really thrown—along with everyone else—by coronavirus. I’m very, very lucky to be able to shelter in place. But it’s shocking how uncertain everything is now, and how my routine and short-term plans have been totally upended. This is the time of year I usually do a whole slate of concerts, and that’s not happening. I was working on some really cool projects that were supposed to unfold next season; I’m not sure about the status of those projects anymore, due to arts org budgets imploding, gatherings being risky, etc. We’re all in this suspended state right now. Performing is such an important part of my life, but I don’t know when we’ll be able to have concerts in-person again. It’s very hard to visualize what a career in music looks like after this is all over.

In this state of limbo, it’s really hard to continue working day-to-day like everything is normal. I don’t do well when I don’t have immediate deadlines, so it’s really hard for me to practice like there are still performances on the horizon. On top of that all, I just feel so emotionally drained. I mean, people are literally dying right now, and the level of suffering is just breathtaking. Even if you’re safe and doing fine, you know way too many people who aren’t. It takes a lot of energy and brainpower to work on music—or anything, really—and it’s very exhausting just being a human being right now.

I’m just taking everything one day at a time and being nicer to myself—well, I’m trying, anyway. I still have to practice on a daily basis because physical things like stamina, control, flexibility, etc. evaporate if you don’t keep them up. I used to beat myself up for not practicing enough hours a day or not making enough progress, but now if I’m able to squeeze out one or two hours of meaningful work, I’m genuinely grateful.

(Interview date: 27 April 2020)

Sharon Su is a professional finger wiggler. While she hails* from a very sunny state (California), her work has taken her to concert halls, churches, ballrooms, and the occasional palace throughout the cloudier sections of the world, both as a solo and collaborative keyboard-masher. She has extensively performed pieces from the classical canon (sadly, that is “canon” with one “n” in the middle) as well as premiered a number of newly composed works, likely because the composers were in a hurry and couldn’t find a better pianist to perform their works for the first time. Her work has earned her recognition as an American artist and, most importantly, she has recently been hailed by her mother as being “pretty good at noise-making.”

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Sharon Su play’s Clara Schumann’s Piano Concerto – more information

Louise Farrenc – Etude, Op 26/10

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Who or what inspired you to take up the piano and pursue a career in music?

It was a long time coming. Though I had already played the piano for six years before entering the Curtis Institute of Music, it was the colleagues and friends I made there that really inspired me to see music as a way of life.

Who or what have been the most important influences on your musical life and career?

My teachers at Curtis and the Hannover Musikhochschule have shaped the way I see music. My family and friends give the life experiences I need to tell interesting stories. In an ever-changing environment, I’m grateful to have a stable network of people I can trust and count on for advice.

What have been the greatest challenges of your career so far?

There are many difficult things about being a concert pianist, whether its learning a particularly tricky piece, getting over a defeat at a competition, but these are so minor in the grand scheme of things. It’s an ongoing challenge to give your all every time you step out on stage. Even if you’re tired or fatigued, it’s a musician’s responsibility to inspire and bring memorable moments to audiences. But this is a challenge that I cherish.

Which performance/recordings are you most proud of? 

Certain concerts stick out in my memory. I had a wonderful experience performing a benefit concert for the Multiple Sclerosis society with Howard Griffiths and the Camerata Schweiz at the Tonhalle Maag. We performed the Beethoven violin concerto in the piano version and as an encore, Hallelujah, where the audience joined in the chorus. A moment of goosebumps, the good kind.

Which particular works do you think you play best?

I can’t answer such a question, but I have lots of music I love to perform. At the moment, I’m particularly interested in the Viennese classics of Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven.

How do you make your repertoire choices from season to season?

It’s a given that I only perform works I feel I have something special to express. I’m very open to learning different repertoire, and I gather a lot of inspirations through regular trips to different opera houses and symphonic concerts, something Germany abounds with. Finding a central work is important in each program, then it’s a question of finding matches and themes.

Do you have a favourite concert venue to perform in and why?

Hamburg Elbphilharmonie kleiner Saal is fantastic, not least because of its prestige. The pianos there, the acoustic and an enthusiastic audience are unique.

Who are your favourite musicians?

Cecilia Bartoli, Kristian Zimerman and Sviatoslav Richter.

What is your most memorable concert experience?

I performed in Beijing NCPA last year, and my three grandparents came, all over 90 years old. I was so proud and happy to share with them one of my favorite pieces, Chopin concerto No. 2.

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

Staying true to yourself and never wavering in your faith in music.

What do you consider to be the most important ideas and concepts to impart to aspiring musicians?

Live a full life, embrace multiple interests, because the more you know about the world, the more you can share.

Claire Huangci, the young American pianist of Chinese descent and 2018 Geza Anda Competition first prize and Mozart prize winner, has succeeded in establishing herself as a highly respected artist, captivating audiences with her “radiant virtuosity, artistic sensitivity, keen interactive sense and subtle auditory dramaturgy” (Salzburger Nachrichten). Her unusually diverse repertoire, in which she also takes up rarely performed works, is illustrative of her remarkable versatility.

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Who or what inspired you to pursue a career in music?

I come from a very musical family of parents who are professional musicians, two sisters who are professional musicians, and one brother who used to play the violin. As you can imagine, growing up surrounded by music was incredibly inspiring and stimulating! I started playing violin at age 3 and piano at 5, and I remember making the decision around 11 years of age to become a professional pianist. At that time, I had attended an international summer institute for young pianists, and something just “clicked” with being surrounded by so many wonderful musicians. I thought something to the effect of “I have to do this!” and I’ve been devoted to the profession ever since.

Who or what have been the most important influences on your musical life and career?

I have been blessed with fantastic teachers throughout my life, teachers who not only gave me a foundation of musicianship and technique at the piano, but who also supported me as a person (and continue to do so). In this business, I think it is so important to have teachers who care about students in their development as musicians AND human beings. One person in particular who has had an extraordinary influence in my life is a Brazilian pianist named Luiz de Moura Castro. He also taught my eldest sister, and from the time I was ten, he has had a great impact on my approach to music. In addition, I come from a lineage of Russian teachers including a wonderful woman by the name of Zena Ilyashov (whom I studied with as a young pianist) and the well-known pianist and pedagogue Boris Berman (while at Yale School of Music). Both teachers gave me imperative tools for approaching the keyboard, perhaps most specifically in how I create “sound.”

As for performers who influenced me, I remember being spellbound at a young age by violinist Jascha Heifetz. There was something about the electricity of his playing which enamored me, and he’s one of the performers who still gives me goosebumps every time I hear one of his recordings. Likewise, Vladimir Horowitz has always been close to my musical heart; there’s a similar electricity and emotional impact when listening to him. I always try to tap into this kind of excitement/fire when performing.

What have been the greatest challenges of your career so far?

I’ve done quite a lot of competitions, and that can be a brutal part of the learning process for any young pianist. As so many people know, there are variables quite often out of one’s control (politics, personal preferences, etc.), which can be disheartening. I did very well in some and less well in others, but at the end of the day, I learned about myself in the process: not just about playing at a consistent, high level, but what it means to believe in one’s self as a musician.

As with any profession, people can be dismissive, and especially when something is as personal as art. Therefore, it is imperative one believes in one’s worth and what one has have to offer as a musician. As clichéd as it may sound, I do what I do because I believe music needs to be shared with people; to me, being a performer is not about my ego or another person’s ego, but rather being a conduit for great music. This gives me the confidence to believe in what I am doing.

Which performances/recordings are you most proud of?

I absolutely love performing with orchestras, and my first performance of Brahms’ D minor concerto will always stand out in my memory. There’s something about that piece that requires extreme vulnerability and strength, and performing it was powerful beyond what I expected. The way Brahms conceived of the orchestral writing is stunning, and it truly feels chamber music when performing it.

It seems my most memorable performances are with orchestra, but another one was performing Prokofiev’s Second Piano Concerto a few years back. Of course it is a powerhouse of a piece, but there was a particular performance which felt like the highest energy I’ve ever had onstage, both in how I felt with the piano part as well as the interaction with orchestra. Both the Brahms and Prokofiev are extraordinarily powerful pieces, but the Prokofiev is powerful in a way that’s primal.

Which particular works do you think you perform best?

That’s a great question, as I think I’ve “evolved” over the years in both my tastes and what I’ve excelled at. I used to gravitate primarily toward Russian repertoire, but in the past few years, I’ve come to adore J.S. Bach (even more than I used to) and much of the Spanish repertoire. Perhaps that’s an odd combination, but I would like to explore more of Bach in performance (although it can feel scary/exposed!) as well as the Spanish repertoire (would like to finally perform Granados’ Goyescas in its entirety).

I would be remiss not to mention the works of Australian composer Carl Vine, as I have recently released an album of his solo piano music including the world premiere recording of his Piano Sonata No. 4, a work written for me this past year. I adore his music, and much of the last year has been devoted to performing and recording Vine. In particular, the sound-world he creates is fascinating to explore, and there’s also an aspect of virtuosity that makes performing his music incredibly exciting (his writing is challenging yet idiomatic to the instrument).

How do you make your repertoire choices from season to season?

Well as I mentioned, the past year has been greatly focused on Carl Vine, in particular because I commissioned a piece from him and knew I would be giving several premieres internationally. Usually, I make repertoire choices based on particular pieces I would like to play or composers I would like to explore more of. There are also times where presenters will request a particular piece(s), so it can be a combination of reasons.

Do you have a favourite concert venue to perform in and why?

I recently gave a solo recital at Carnegie Hall’s Weill Recital Hall, and it was a pure delight. The acoustics are fantastic, and there’s an intimacy to the hall that I much prefer in a solo piano recital rather than a hall which seats 4,000. I had a similar impression performing at the Salzburg Mozarteum, having a beautiful intimacy to the hall. That said, I performed with the Montreal Orchestre de Metropolitain in Montreal’s Place des Arts, and that was a fantastic hall and huge space. So, it also depends on the context of what and with whom I’m performing!

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

On a superficial level, one could say success is defined by how many prestigious halls one plays in, how many recordings one sells, how many successful musicians one performs with. While those are all wonderful and important things to use as professional goals, I think they are also things which can be distracting to leading a fulfilled life as a musician. There are so many times when a musician will come to a crossroads in their career, asking themselves why they do what they do. I’ve come to realize that success as a musician can only truly be measured by how much one is enjoying what one does and how genuinely one is connecting with the audience, no matter the size or prestige. If I give a performance where even just one person has found inspiration or comfort through the music, or I’ve managed to inspire a young musician to get excited about classical music, that to me is true success as a musician.

What do you consider to be the most important ideas and concepts to impart to aspiring musicians?

Follow this career path because you love it and will do it no matter what difficulties come your way! It’s a very difficult career to choose, but one that can bring incredible good and beauty to the world.

What is your most treasured possession?

If I can count my cats as possessions, then I’ll say my cats!

What is your present state of mind?

Honestly, I’m grateful to be a musician. Without it, life would make a lot less sense!

Aphorisms: The Piano Music of Carl Vine is available now

Pianist Lindsay Garritson has performed throughout the United States and abroad since the age of four. She has appeared on stages such as Carnegie Hall, the Kennedy Center, and Place des Arts (Montreal), and has been featured as soloist with the Phoenix Symphony Orchestra, Charleston Symphony Orchestra, Eastern Connecticut Symphony Orchestra, Las Colinas Symphony Orchestra (Texas), Orchestre Métropolitain (Montreal), Atlantic Classical Orchestra, Orquestra Sinfônica Barra Mansa (Brazil), the Yale Philharmonic Orchestra, and the European Philharmonic Orchestra, among others.

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