MH: How did you come to take up the piano?
RW: My parents aren't musical, and we didn't have any musical instruments in our family before I started. But my neighbour played the piano, and I'd go to her house and was fascinated by this instrument. I begged my parents to buy me a piano, which they did when I was four.
MH: You had a meteoric start, playing at Carnegie Hall within a year; can you remember how that felt as a five-year-old?
RW: When you're that young, I think you don't really care about who's in the audience or where you're playing. It's a very carefree way of performing, very natural, because many five-year-olds are very simple and innocent.
MH: Who was your teacher at the beginning?
RW: He's a very distinguished piano professor in Vancouver, Professor Lee Kum Sing. He's an extremely sensitive musician. When you're really young, the foundations of your artistic self are shaped by your teacher. I'm very grateful to him because he was never hard on me – it was always a very positive learning experience and environment. I think that's what really made me love music. And when we travelled together, it wasn't always about music, but also trying new foods, new experiences – introducing me to an artist's kind of life.
MH: He sounds key in your development. What importance do you think a teacher has in a young musician's life?
RW: At that young age a child may have an innate kind of musical sense, but they're almost like a blank canvas. A teacher can, as it were, put in all the colours and sort of sculpt you. Mr Lee's style has been with me from a young age, and I still feel his natural musical phrasing, because it's been with me ever since the beginning of my musical journey. Of course, developing technique is extremely important at that young age; but also, Mr Lee was just such a nice person. Lessons were never stressful, and he was never scary – he was always very, very pleasant. I enjoyed going to his lessons and chatting with him, so piano was a very positive experience and I wanted to do it. I think when a child wants to do something, they will really go for it.
MH: And obviously it inspired you to practise.
RW: Actually, I didn't practise that much, and still don't! It's just something I really enjoy doing – I think that's what you call passion, when you really enjoy something. It doesn't feel like a chore, and I don't think it ever should, because it's so beautiful. If it feels like it's a chore, that takes away from the beauty and magic of making music.
MH: So even scales and arpeggios didn't feel like a chore for you?
RW: I remember the first time Mr Lee made me do scales. I thought to myself, ‘Why do I have to do scales all of a sudden?’ But he would make it fun – he'd say, for example, ‘Play the scale very lightly and staccato.’ It was never like ‘You have to play this more and more,’ but rather he'd show me how to shape the notes musically – it was fascinating, and it motivated me to do it.
MH: You mentioned that a lot of Mr Lee's way of thinking about music is in you. But eventually there has to be a balance between absorbing somebody else's view and expressing yourself. Where does the point come?
RW: I think, as I grew older, my musical ideas were still hand-in-hand with Mr Lee's, though we didn't always agree. It's interesting when people disagree about music-making, that they can feel the music in such different ways. People say I'm very stubborn with my musical ideas, but in the end you just have to do what you feel is natural, what comes from within you. Good teaching is drawing something out of someone, not forcing something on someone. If the teacher can draw it out of you, it will be convincing to an audience, because you believe in it. I think that's what Mr Lee did for me. Even when we couldn't agree, he was sometimes able to convince me or I was able to convince him; and as long as I'm convinced, it will sound good.
MH: So you're saying that for it to sound good, you have to believe it within yourself?
RW: Yes, whether that idea has come from yourself or from somebody else, because you own it and believe it in an authentic way.
MH: How did you develop a broad knowledge of not just the piano repertoire, but classical music repertoire generally?
RW: Speaking with other musicians, and listening to live concerts and the radio, is the best way to develop a broad knowledge – just immersing yourself in it. Also, reading books, exploring YouTube. As long as you are interested, there is lots to discover.
MH: With all the vast piano concerto repertoire that there is, what made you choose Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto No. 2 for the BBC Young Musician competition?
RW: It has really beautiful melodies and it's very, very emotional. It's probably the most famous concerto for a reason. For me, it symbolises hope and new beginnings. Before I studied it, it was the melodies that were always in my head. But then I studied the score and worked on it. Rachmaninov was at a very low point in his life when he wrote it, and what he composed was really magical. It's really heart-wrenching and so touching. Many of his greatest compositions come after this work, so it's a really monumental moment in his life.
MH: How it is possible for one so young, who presumably hasn't suffered like Rachmaninov did, to find a profound depth of emotion and to communicate it?
RW: When I first played it to my professor Wha Kyung Byun, in Boston, she said, ‘Wow, we need to do lots of work!’ Then I studied the score with her – she said, ‘You have to understand the music and its shape, the harmonies, textures, all the different voicings implied in the score.’ Then it started to click within me. There's a ‘eureka’ moment and then the emotional aspect comes to you because you actually understand the music – the music is first and foremost, not just the notes. Physically, it also begins to feel very natural to the arm and to the hand, because Rachmaninov was a great pianist, and then you feel weightless and can be completely into the music.
MH: Who are you currently learning piano with?
RW: I come periodically to Boston to study with Wha Kyung Byun. I also study with Professor Marian Rybicki at the École Normale de Musique de Paris in France, and with Mr Gareth Owen at Eton College (where I'm on a music scholarship).
MH: So you're receiving input from three different schools of piano thinking and playing?
RW: They're all extremely important to me, and so different. They can each draw something out of me – I always feel when I leave their lessons that I know something new about a piece or a composer. They're all very equally fascinating.
Ms Byun in Boston is a fantastic musician with an incredible ear, and very detailed; she can spend an hour with you on a single phrase. Professor Rybicki's teaching style is like a feeling washing over you – it's a big picture approach to teaching, and he'll make sure all the key points are in order. I always feel like my head is very much sorted after his lessons, and he always offers me new inspirations! And Mr Owen knows exactly what to say to give you confidence and make sure that you are in order when you go on stage. He has also taught me about really expressing myself. His musical ideas are very interesting and he's a very engaging musician; in a sense, he has taught me how to become a true musician. So all my teachers have different approaches, but they complement each other.
MH: Are there particular composers you prefer playing?
RW: Chopin has always been a really big part of my life – I think I've included him in every recital I've done. And I always find Schubert's music deeply touching. His melodies might seem simple, but they're actually like little gems. And, of course, Bach is a great composer. But actually I like everything.
MH: What would you say drives you in life?
RW: I want my younger self to be happy, so I take care of myself and I will keep working hard because I want him to be proud of what I've done. For the BBC final, I took a Lemsip immediately before I played because my nose was running so much and I felt really unwell. I called my professor in Boston and said, ‘I'm so nervous and I'm so ill, and I don't know what to do.’ And she told me – in about 10 seconds – ‘Follow the music. Keep going. Don't give up.’ At that moment, I knew that if you want something, you can do it and your mind can overcome your body.
MH: With all this high-powered and very high-profile music-making, what do you think keeps you grounded?
RW: Non-music activities, definitely. If I only played music every day, I might go crazy! So I ski. After a ski trip, I come back to the piano and think, ‘It's so easy, because it's not moving.’ Skiing complements my piano playing. For example, when you have to take a risk in skiing, like a very sharp turn or when you become airborne, there's uncertainty, like there is a lot of the time in piano playing. You have to pull yourself back or steer yourself through a difficult passage, and you have to keep a calm mind.
It's also important just to be with your friends, talking with people. The piano is quite isolated – you have you, your piano and your practice room. So talking to people and learning about them and their life experiences makes you an artist, I think, rather than just a piano player. For example, I recently played Liszt's Don Juan, and I had to put myself in each character's shoes in each scene – if you can't relate, you can't find inspiration.
MH: And do you think it's important to know what is going on in the rest of the world too?
RW: Yes. What's going on in the world affects everyone, and I think it adds another experience for you to find something within yourself. It's really about emotion; how does an event affect you? Then you can find that emotion within you and put it into your music. Sadly, a lot of news is not good. I think a musician's role should be to shine some light into this sometimes tragic world; you can give some hope and beauty and inspiration. I think that's why so many people turn to music to cope with emotions.
MH: Where does your life go from here?
RW: Well, I want to keep performing. When I play, it's just me and the piano, and I don't think about anything else, I just feel the music – I guess it's kind of like meditating. That's really the best feeling you can get as a performer. I will always be in music, whether performing or teaching. I find it so inspiring when I get to share my ideas with younger pianists – they are the next generation who will be walking on Carnegie Hall's stage. I want to keep classical music alive.
