Blog . . .

Videos with my hands on a piano performing various pieces of music, little or great works wich I love, without vituosity but simplicity — no, I am not a great pianist! —, only to share it with you...

Above all, it’s a desire: to share here, with you, some thoughts about Art in general, and Music in particular... In order to do so, what could be better than the beautiful thoughts here...

Nowadays, the values of classicism are not taken into consideration anymore — which is regrettable. It is so common to mistake classicism for academism, will of being understood for laziness and convenance. Art — or what we call “art” — has become either merely conceptual — even though art cannot and must not be referred to as such — or oversimplified, thus being qualified as common.

The Masters of the past cannot be only models. They teach us. They inspire us. They show us the way and shine with their exemplarity. Beethoven, Schubert, Bellini, Chopin, Liszt, Wagner, Verdi, Franck, Brahms, Saint-Saëns, Bizet, Moussorgski, Tchaïkovski, Dvořák, Grieg, Rimski-Korsakov, Fauré, Mahler, Debussy, Dukas, Sibelius, Ravel, Stravinsky, Prokofiev, Gershwin, Shostakovich, Bernstein and many others are for me fathers - and I dare believe that one day you will be able to say peers - who gave me a taste for emotion , the desire to transmit it, and this insatiable thirst - certainly pretentious but no less sincere - to always want to offer something to the world!

If I were asked to define my musical ideal, in a few words, here comes my answer: “a Mozart’s Sonata form or a Bach’s Fugue, coloured with the harmonic language of a John Williams!” [...] My music shapes up around a tonal harmonic system, enriched with modes of diverse origins, and a formal thematic construction with development. The initial aim is to expose all the elements in opposition in order to create, consequently, a real equilibrium. The principe of the Sonata Form is used, besides the harmonic tensions, to create rhytmic tensions as well.

Before dying, Gustav Mahler would have said these few words: “My dear little Mozart!”. Such words testify to his great love for simplicity up to his last breath. This simplicity that, these days, is deliberately mistaken for easiness or triviality, by the same who lack of it; this simplicity long gone, enemy of an elite who pretends to find intelligence only in complexity and esotericism. In this world of excess and abundance, simplicity has become an abuse, a rude word; it’s aggravating, it’s upsetting, it’s irritating for our civilization.