When I was little, I dreamed of piano and of being big and knowing how to play well. Today I am big and I remember about these thoughts from childhood: some are true and some are far from reality.

I imagined that when he was big and had practiced much and well before, a pianist came to a level where only few hours of work were enough to get through the most difficult piece. I was far from the truth. Some years ago, I realized that the more the pianist’s level is high, the more time he spends on a work, being dissatisfied with the result.

I thought the pianist’s life was made of instability and permanent suprise: I later experienced the feeling of instability and finally came to the conclusion that it was blocking my work. I need to fully feel at ease to carry out my task, and only a perfect and delicate balance allows me to immerse myself entirely in my work, without having to think about anything else.

On one point, at least, I was not wrong: music is still a friend of mine, a confidante to whom I never regretted to devote my life. I know that my job is difficult, stressful and burdensome, but it is always a great pleasure to go on-stage, to introduce works and to practice alone sitting at the piano.