What are your earliest musical memories?
The piano was simply part of the landscape at home. My mother taught the instrument, so music was always present: her playing, her pupils. I was drawn to the sound from the very beginning, long before I understood what it meant to ‘play’ in any real sense. I remember pressing a single note and holding it, listening to the way it blossomed and faded, then wondering how it would change if I touched the key differently. I started lessons at the age of five, and while I learned to read music quickly and remember tutor-book pieces with engaging titles like ‘Stegosaurus stomp’, it felt as though my journey really began when I first learned a work by Chopin. At a later point, recordings were equally formative: Rachmaninov’s own playing, the nobility of Lipatti, the mercurial spark of Horowitz, among many others. I could sense that each pianist created an entirely distinct world, even in music by the same composer, and I wanted to find out how.
You have had an incredible career so far. Has there been a highlight, or something you have set your sights on for the future?
There have been many moments I feel grateful for. Performing at the BBC Proms for the first time at nineteen is certainly something I’ll never forget. Walking onto the Royal Albert Hall stage, feeling that tangible sense of history, was overwhelming in the best possible way. Last year I performed Busoni’s Piano Concerto there with Ed Gardner and the London Philharmonic Orchestra. The sheer scale of this piece makes any performance an event, and of the three opportunities I had with that work last season, it was particularly special to play it in the Albert Hall, with the sound of the choir in the last movement floating over the heads of the audience as they remained unseen in the gallery. But generally, I try not to think so much in terms of ‘high points’ as a continuous journey. Each performance, each collaboration, adds a new dimension to my understanding of the music. Looking ahead, I’d like to continue deepening that understanding: returning to works I’ve lived with for years and discovering fresh perspectives, expanding my repertoire as well as playing music that’s less often heard, so that it might find new listeners. As pianists we are lucky that our repertoire is so vast; the possibilities really are endless!
You’ll soon be performing Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G at the BBC Proms with the BBC National Orchestra of Wales. Do you prepare for something like the BBC Proms differently to how you would approach another concert?
The core preparation is always the similar: spending time with the score until its world becomes second nature; its rhythms, its colours, its character. But the Proms do have their own special atmosphere. The Royal Albert Hall is vast, yet it seems to shrink when full, and develop an intimacy that comes from the audience’s energy. The Ravel has an incredible mix of vitality and tenderness – from the jazzy brilliance and sparkle of the outer movements to the Adagio, which feels suspended in time, like one extended ‘moment’ in music. My aim is to let the scale of the occasion feed the performance without losing the finesse and transparency the music demands.
What did studying at the Academy bring to your career?
The Academy gave me both guidance and space, and I enjoyed my long association with the institution. I was coming into the building for piano lessons from the age of 10 with Christopher Elton and then later I had private lessons on other aspects of music with Julian Perkins and Daniel-Ben Pienaar. I started the BMus in 2008. I had the privilege of working with exceptional teachers like Christopher, who not only refined my technique but encouraged me to think more deeply about every interpretative decision: to ask why a phrase should breathe a certain way, or how a texture might best be voiced and conveyed. I also enjoyed the academic side of the degree; Techniques and Analysis with Alex Hills and Daniel-Ben’s Schubert course were particular highlights. Being surrounded by other committed musicians was equally important; those conversations over coffee, or after a rehearsal, often stayed with me as much as the formal lessons.
What advice do you have for anyone looking to follow a similar career path to you?
Be endlessly curious: about music, about art, about life. Technique is essential, of course, but it’s only the means to an end. What matters is developing your own voice, which comes from deep listening and a willingness to explore beyond your comfort zone. Listen to singers, to orchestras, to folk musicians – there’s something to learn from them all. And understand that a career in music requires resilience; not every performance will go as planned, and not every opportunity will arrive when you want it to. But a sincere relationship with music is what will sustain you through those inevitable challenges.
Do you have any upcoming projects that you’re particularly excited about?
In the next few months, I look forward to visiting Australia and New Zealand again, to returning to Queen Elizabeth Hall and Carnegie Hall for recitals, and to La Scala with one of my favourite conductors Manfred Honeck. I have a duo tour with my long-time collaborator Kian Soltani, which includes Wigmore Hall, and I’ll be joining the amazing Sinfonia of London and John Wilson for their international debut at the Concertgebouw Amsterdam. In terms of new repertoire projects, next season I will be playing Strauss’ Burleske for the first time, which I am very excited about! I’ll be playing with Kian again next year at the Musikverein in our piano quartet, with fellow members Timothy Ridout and Hyeyoon Park. Chamber music offers a very particular kind of joy – the give-and-take of ideas in real time, the intimacy of shared breathing and phrasing. Those moments of connection on stage, when the music seems to shape itself, are among the most rewarding experiences I know.