My Story

I’m an artist, a citizen of the world and a storyteller: my story tells audiences just how diverse and inclusive the art form I love can be, despite the shortfalls of the past. It tells society that it is up to each and every one of us to ensure that unlike my younger self, children today can learn from an early age all about the great musicians past and present, regardless of their background and gender; inspiring them to work hard, never give up and continue to break down those unnecessary barriers that we, all too often, still put around ourselves today. 

No one chooses where they are born but I consider myself lucky my journey started in post-communist Romania, a country I adore and will always call home. I was brought up in the church choir as my whole family sang in this tight community, so my heart was filled with 4-part harmonies from the very beginning. Every summer was spent with children at summer camps, singing alongside my Mum, who taught herself to play guitar while the rest of the summer we spent with Gran at the monasteries, high up in the mountains, where the church bells and monks’ chanting resounded throughout the forests. Having saved up for years, my Mum bought an upright, which we still have at home, a Russian deep mahogany beautiful instrument called Tchaikovsky….Little did I know this gentleman was going to be such a huge part of my life later. I attended the Specialist Music School in Iasi, and it became clear the piano was my path, my world, my everything. After my concerto debut, I confidently declared “I’m going to be a concert pianist”. You see, the evening didn’t start as well as planned as I tripped over as I stepped on stage and the music flew from every nearby stand, Mum froze in the front row and the conductor thought that was the end of it. But it’s these sort of moments that define you: do you start crying and give up? Or pick yourself up, smile and keep going? Good thing I learnt that lesson early on. I was 9. 

 I left Romania just as I turned 17. Just my suitcase and I. England welcomed me with open arms, and I fell in love with it immediately. And I’m still here, many moons after, building a home away from home. Receiving the Gold Medal at the RNCM in my third year of undergrad was thrilling. Dressed in a beautiful gown, the Duchess of Kent was presiding. The event didn’t turn out as glamorous as I thought, as she forgot to hand me the medal when we shook hands in front of the whole auditorium. I got it afterwards, backstage, in a dark corner but its light shone brighter than anything else before.

Winning YCAT was a life changing experience as, little by little, I started touring and experiencing the life of a concert pianist. And let me tell you, what a heck of a ride! It’s hard work plus an insatiable desire to learn and curiosity without limits. Plus resilience and perseverance that need constant feeding. You also need to like your own company, as it’s not easy living out of a suitcase. Playing concertos has always brought most joy as I’m not alone on stage- most of the time though, it seems I’m speed dating with conductors and orchestras, as our first encounters are short and (most of times) sweet. I love discovering new concertos and then spending most of my time trying to persuade conductors and presenters to programme them. Sometimes I’m successful, others not. But what a thrill when they say yes and we introduce our audiences to something new and exciting: Nadia Boulanger, Dinu Lipatti, Iris ter Shiphorst, Emily Howard, Ferdinand Ries, Alberto Ginastera, Danyal Dhondy, Germaine Tailleferre, George Enescu to name a few of the past and present composers whose extraordinary concertos I’ve had the privilege to premiere.

Playing at the Royal Albert Hall will always stay in my memory as one of the beautiful but also terrifying experiences. I had never played in front of 6000 people before, the closest I got to was in Buenos Aires, around 3000. Beyonce had performed there the night before. Not quite the same I’m afraid… They say “you’re as good as your last concert” which is really not so helpful for one’s mind. But stepping into such a hall, full of so much history, you get an indescribable feeling, a mix of excitement with fear, butterflies in your stomach and an unbelievable desire to be the best version of yourself. It’s an appearance at the Olympics, every time you perform. Because you only have one shot at it. The competition? It’s yourself. I felt that time and time again, at Carnegie Hall, Wigmore, Concertgebouw, Musikverein but then, the lights go down, the silence is louder than your heartbeat and the music takes over everything. Because music has that magical power, to heal, to transport us back in time and to inspire us to dance in the moment.

Recordings are very special to me and I’m so grateful to have had the chance to choose my programmes and follow the stories so close to my heart. The Preludes project was a labour of love, all 80 of them. A journey that went through every single emotion a human being can feel, a personal discovery and a mammoth task that took 7 years. In between, the Tchaikovsky Concerto stands out as my first ever concerto on disc but also due to the fact that we had 6 hours to record the Beast, as I like to call it. I can’t describe the pressure. However, the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra seemed very content with the home baked cakes I brought in. Recording with Angela was an adventure in itself. She is the most alive person I know, her aura shines wherever she is and what an incredible honour to make a disc together, celebrating  the 25th anniversary of her first recording on Decca Classics.

The Nutcracker and I has been the most special, incredible and riskiest (to say the least) ride I’ve ever been on. I challenged myself to the extreme, suddenly becoming a producer, fundraiser, manager of 27 people, working very often through the night after huge debuts. But my goodness, was it worth it! Seeing thousands of children and their parents and grandparents coming into concert halls - 3 or even 4 generations of the same family attending a piano recital! The astonishment on their little faces and hearing the gasps when the animated ballerina becomes alive, when the Sugar Plum descends from the fluffy clouds, when I drink a cup of tea from the animated Chinese character or my hands flying in the Flower Waltz. This is what building bridges means to me: giving the children and anyone willing to listen an opportunity to experience classical music in a most magical way and get them hooked for life. They have given me more inspiration and joy than I could have ever wished for. 

I can honestly say there’s nothing more beautiful in life than performing. For me anyways.  Touring (with all of its ups and downs) and performing makes me fall in love with music again and again. There have been so many people who believed in me and gave me a chance and those wonderful people will always have my eternal gratitude. If my performing stopped tomorrow, I’d feel the most blessed person on earth to have been able to travel throughout this beautiful world, meet so many incredible people and communicate with audiences in every corner of this planet through the language of music. A communication when for a moment there are no barriers and no misunderstandings. Long it may continue, because dedicating your life to art is the most rewarding thing one can do.