The music works by itself, but you can change the perception of it by the way you dress, the way you move, the things you say, the things you don't say. And when you realize that everything is staged, then nothing is staged. There's a kind of liberation to that.

Why does the world need a Piano Day? For many reasons. But mostly, because it doesn't hurt to celebrate the piano and everything around it: performers, composers, piano builders, tuners, movers and most important, the listener.

When you realize that everything is staged, then nothing is staged.

The music I do in live performances is made for a specific situation. I know that people are sitting down and shutting up and they're with me for 90 minutes. They're totally with me. Whatever I do, I know they have my attention and they follow my pace.

I would be doomed if I didn't invent humor in my life. When I was young, I had all these punk and performance-art bands, dressed in costumes and painting the room and getting kicked out by police. Now when I perform I still feel the stage is more than just where you put your instruments. It's where you can do whatever you feel like.

I get bored with things easily. I always have to change something to keep myself excited. When I feel like I did a really good classical and acoustic album, the next thing I want to do is the opposite. And then I want to do the opposite of that. When I work alone after that, I feel like I should work with a lot of people. When I work with a lot of people after that, I feel that I should work alone.

What I love most about playing in front of people has something to do with a certain kind of energy exchange. The attention and appreciation of my audience feeds back into my playing. It really seems as if there is a true and equal give and take between performer and listener, making me aware of how much I depend on my audience. And since the audience is different every night, the music being played will differ too. Every space I performed in has its own magic and spirit.