The process of putting intangible thoughts into an imperfect system of notation - which is difficult enough, depending on your ideas - acquaints you with how best to express your ideas so that it is as clear as possible to the performer.

Very rarely do I work on mechanics now. I tend to solve problems within the music itself.

Whenever I record something, I always believe that it's worthy of inclusion in the pantheon, and I would certainly like pianists to pay more attention to it. I think it's ridiculous now, because the range of repertoire - or what's considered 'safe' - is so narrow, even though there are pianists who are really trying to push the envelope. There is still a lack of attention, and there's no reason for it. The piano repertoire is so rich, with so many wonderful things that still are not given their due.

A mission that comes from the heart to promote these things and to encourage composers to write, then of course they should do it. And there are more than a few pianists these days who do this, fortunately.

I don't listen to recordings very much now, to be perfectly honest. I listened to them a lot when I was younger.

It's the vision of the composer that we have to determine, and not the absolute mathematical adherence of the score. In my experience, there have been occasions where I feel that a composer has not notated something as they meant to have it represented.

My father was a very good amateur pianist, and he had a collection of books on technique. One of the things he had was a small volume of exercises by Rudolf Ganz, in which Ganz mentions the pedagogical work of the Swiss composer, Émile-Robert Blanchet, who wrote a ton of polyphonic exercises for one-hand. These exercises were a great help for finger independence, which I acquired early on. This might have given me somewhat of an edge, a facility to be able to knock any obstacle that was in my way.