I listened to the second improvisation, with the bells, the chimes, the metal balls bouncing at random, with the guitar playing the piano. I thought about the courage and musculature of conversing with Schubert and Rachmaninoff. A fragment of Houellebecq came to my mind that I had read a few days ago, which I now transcribe with the book in front of me: n can do without. If we follow Schopenhauer, the best possible reform of the art schools would be simply to close them ”. How nice to play, dude, I thought, too. It's not that you tame the beast of music, but rather that you became friends with it. You are not the interpreter (which is a very ugly word), you are not the interpreter but the companion, like the riverbed.

Toni Sala, writer.