I feel at home in an orchestral score.

With my personal preparation at the piano, I can afford to hum at half voice.

The voice collects and translates your bad physical health, your emotional worries, your personal troubles.

The press regularly proclaims my ambitions and my financial demands.

Honestly, if the public still wants to hear me in some works, I have to go down a half step.

I then realized that I could never be satisfied again with the mere natural charm of my voice, that I had to constantly paint when singing, melting all the colors, expressing reds and blacks that had to be less primary but bursting with subtly colored combinations.

Don't you think it astonishing that, at 58, I am still working at improving my career?