Schubert, Beethoven, Mozart, Brahms—And Me
Releasing an album feels a little like sending a message in a bottle. You record, refine, obsess over every detail, and then, eventually, you let it go—hoping it finds the right ears, the right hearts, at the right time.
On May 13, I’ll be releasing my new solo album, featuring Schubert’s B-flat Sonata and 3 Klavierstücke, Beethoven’s Op. 126, Mozart’s Fantasies in C minor and D Major, and Brahms’s Op. 119. These works are among the most personal and profound in the repertoire, and bringing them together in one recording has been a journey of both artistic and personal discovery.
Why These Works?
Choosing a program for an album is not just about selecting favorites. It’s about building a narrative—one that resonates with where I am as a musician today. Schubert’s B-flat Sonata is a piece of transcendence, written in the face of mortality. Mozart’s Fantasies are wild and free, full of contrasts. Beethoven’s Op. 126 Bagatelles, often overlooked, contain entire universes within miniature forms. And Brahms’s Op. 119—his final solo piano works—are both an ending and a quiet, intimate farewell.
The Recording Process
Recording these works has been both exhilarating and maddening (as all recordings tend to be). Unlike a live concert, where the energy of the moment carries you, the studio demands a different kind of presence—a patience for precision, an acceptance of imperfection, and a willingness to dive into the music again and again until it feels right.
The biggest challenge? Walking away. Knowing when to stop, when to trust that what’s there is honest and true to the music. And, of course, resisting the urge to blame the piano for everything (though, let’s be honest, that’s always a temptation).
What’s Next?
As the release date approaches, I’ll be sharing more behind-the-scenes moments—stories about the pieces, recording clips, and maybe even some outtakes of my less-than-perfect moments (because, let’s face it, those are always the most entertaining).
Classical music is often seen as something distant, something reserved for an elite few. But for me, it’s deeply human—full of humor, struggle, beauty, and absurdity. My goal with this album (and with everything I do) is to invite more people into this world, to share not just the music but the joy, the frustration, and the strange, wonderful life of being a pianist.
Stay tuned—and if you have any questions about the pieces or the process, drop them in the comments! Let’s make this a conversation.