Every aspiring artist knows that one of the most important things to do is not just to practice, but to know how to do it effectively.  Please tell us about your practice routine, and why you have chosen to practice as you do.

Since I started taking lessons from Mr. Cosmo Buono six years ago, my practice routine has become very refined. I have learned to express more of my emotions, while focusing on piano playing as an art, while further understanding that playing notes is not the same thing as making music.  Before that, my only goal in performances was just to not make any mistakes. Even if I demonstrated any emotion at all, my performance would lack real perspective and could not be considered as art, because I was concerned more with perfection, and not nearly enough with the spirit of the music and the composer’s intentions.

Since that time I have learned to take a work apart and then put it back together in my mind by examining everything technically first in order to determine what is needed in order for it to be performed as a work of art, and not just a collection of notes in harmony with one another. I look at the mood of the piece, the historical time period in which it was written, and every single aspect of it. I think has the capacity to make it more meaningful to me and interesting to an audience.

Sometimes I also like to imagine myself showing a new work to a listener the way you might show someone through the rooms of your newly furnished house.  I imagine pointing out the different features of the work as one would the windows and high ceilings of a house, what some people call its “bones,” along with the furnishings in each room—the drapes, chairs, and tables. In other words, I work at it first as a structure, and then decide what pieces of furniture would look best in each room.  In this way, when I’m practicing, I’m part architect with a blueprint (the score itself), and part decorator with fabric swatches determining what colors will work best (the interpretation).

As I practice then, I am always trying out certain things, and once I have made my decisions as to the ways I think a piece works best, I decide within myself everything I want to share with an audience from the vantage point of interpretation and message, and incorporate these into my practice sessions.

Although one often sees artists playing onstage with the score in front of them, the generally expected tradition is to play everything in a performance from memory.  What is your particular process for memorizing, literally, hundreds of thousands of notes?

I've actually always had the habit of memorizing music scores as if I were taking photos of them, and playing while looking at the photos in my mind.

Every score is full of so many characters and nuances, with voices, figures, themes and motifs all intertwined in a way I find fascinating.  At the same time, all of this provides even more ways for me to help in memorizing. The wave-like rise and fall movements, pauses, interesting rhythms and so on all provide means by which I can take a section of a score, look at it, decide what is there to interpret and share with an audience, while working on memorizing that particular portion or passage. I like to analyze everything that the composer puts into the score, and ask myself all the time why a work is structured in a particular way. Again, I study a piece almost like an architect would look at a building.  I look for clues and ideas that determine the entire structure of the piece. I work to understand every detail, every nuance, every brick in the building as it were, and why they have been placed in a certain way. This process of analysis for me is closely related to a depth of understanding that is linked to memorization, and helps me a great deal. In addition, I practice very, very slowly, which not only helps to deepen my understanding, but also aids in my ability to memorize. These concepts help guide me through every passage, while also helping me to connect the work to my memory.

Along the way, of course, I am also training my body and fingers, which in turn is also helping the memory process. I then play passages from memory over and over again, until the entire work becomes more comfortable and I no longer need the score.

One often hears a great deal about pianists just practicing scales, and not actual music. Please tell us if this is something you do, and why it is considered so important.

Whenever I play scales, I do so keeping in mind that mastering them as fundamentals of technique allows me to play any work with greater freedom.  The more I master the fundamentals like scales and trills, the more opportunities I have improve my overall playing and express what I feel about music to the fullest extent possible. Scales for a pianist are rather like soil for roses.  The richer the soil, the more beautiful and healthy the roses, and without good soil, no rose can reach its fullest potential.

With that in mind, I really work to isolate for each finger what is needed to move it from one note to the next in the most smooth and fluid way possible.

I also pay attention to the sound as if I am painting with beautiful different colors, and work to feel the individuality of each key. I also play every day with gratitude, giving thanks for being able to play the piano. Interestingly, sometimes the feelings and thoughts can change depending on the key or the day, and I sometimes play while imagining various images or scenes. In any event, what is most important is understanding that playing scales to a pianist is what good, fresh ingredients are to a chef. The better the ingredients, the better the finished product.

For others studying piano, even if they are not seeking careers, what do you recommend as some of the best ways to improve technique?

I think the best thing any pianist can do, no matter what the skill level, is to break up everything into as many component parts as possible. That is to say look at everything as if it were pieces of a puzzle you are trying to fit together.  When first working on a puzzle one looks for all the straight-edged pieces, because you then know what is going to form the border.  Then you start looking at colors and shapes that are similar, because eventually they too will start forming part of the picture.  Later, gradually, you look at the shape of one piece, and then another, to see if they fit together. 

Technique is the same way.  You have to examine first the sound you want to make, and then what the body—the arms, the feet on the pedal, the hands, and eventually each finger and its positions—have to do to make the sound.  Once you have fully examined what the body is doing to create the sound, you continue to do it over and over again until it is second nature. 

Something I learned recently can help this process: “Don’t work until you get it right.  Work until you can’t get it wrong.”  It’s an idea and a goal I think can help any pianist at any level of study.