Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.
— Mark Twain, The Innocents Abroad (via liquidnight)
Often I don’t work on a piece at home. I know what I want to do. I look at some fragments. I work on the craftsmanship, and on the piano. And then I play the piece for the first time in the concert hall. It’s very dangerous, and I wouldn’t recommend it to anybody. But for me it keeps the music fresh. The moment I start to practise something, I kill it.
It’s like a declaration of love. If you intend to tell a person in the evening that you love her, you don’t spend the afternoon in front of the mirror watching what your lips do when you form the words, ‘I love you.’ You don’t need to. And I don’t need to play the piece at home. I will tell them that I love them in the concert hall. And that’s enough.
— Krystian Zimerman (via alamaris)