The conditions for listening to early music have changed and there are many reasons to explore this repertory. An enormous part of the heritage has yet to be discovered, and researching and editing the scores is deeply satisfying.

Why do you think early music was neglected for such a long time?

I think the explosion of opera in the 19th and early 20th centuries in various countries led to a regression, a kind of break with a more complete musical tradition. Even purely instrumental music wasn’t really appreciated any more; it became something ‘exotic.’ It was rare to hear a whole symphony in concert; only one movement was played because the public got bored with more. I’ve seen this in old programmes. The phenomena of opera devastated musical culture, and a certain reaction against it was to be expected. The concept of opera began to change in the 1920s when Stravinsky wrote his most important works. Interest in ‘different’ music began to revive at that time. And we mustn’t forget that teaching had also gone downhill. The 17th and 18th century teaching traditions took it for granted that technical questions and purely musical problems would be addressed in a balanced way. Afterwards, unfortunately, technical prowess was taught on the same level as expression. There are seventeenth century harpsichord and organ treatises on fingering, for example, which say the strongest fingers should be used the most, and that it isn’t necessary to have equal strength in all the fingers. Like this, music is played according to the possibilities of the hand. We are now taught that all the fingers play with the same strength: we think of equal finger strength as a good quality these days! But in fact, it’s inequality that creates expressiveness. Of course, equal finger strength has to be worked on. You have to learn it, then forget it—learn to forget it—to get the message of the music across. The thing that bothers me most—and this has nothing to do with repertoire—is modern string quartets who are praised for their homogenous sound. In fact, the interesting thing is to be able to listen to four different timbres in dialogue, four individuals who are speaking at the same time, not one person who has four equal voices. That’s absurd, nothing like that exists in nature! Music that sounds homogenous isn’t lifelike. Musical sense and expression don’t come from smooth perfection, they come from contrasting elements. Piano exists because we have forte too. It’s the same with colors. Black enhances white.

How did this rediscovery happen in Italy?

Interest in the repertoire began a long time ago in Italy. It was a pleasure for me to visit Gabriele d’Annunzio’s learned collection of early music, which included works by Frescobaldi, for example.

I was surprised to see in your biography that that you’re self-taught! How did you begin to study music? Did your family help develop your taste for music?

I began learning music (the piano) quite late in Rome when I was about 14. My father liked to sing, but he had to work to earn a living and my mother didn’t know anything about music. My curiosity was aroused by a pianist friend. Then I had an outstanding teacher who helped me a lot. His teaching was decisive. We listened to a lot of music together, and discussed it. He taught me to admire Clara Haskil, and helped me get to the core of works. He also gave me a conception of what elegance is. I’m still in touch with him; he’s a little like a second father to me.

What composers did you play on the piano?

I worked on Mozart, Haydn and Beethoven, and on Brahms Rhapsodies. Very little Chopin.