I would probably have to struggle to recall the program of a concert I did last month, but I remember my very first performance like it was yesterday — I can tell you every little detail,” says internationally acclaimed pianist Ramzi Yassa, smiling as he goes on to describe one of the most special evenings of his life:

“The date was the 19th of January, 1963, and the venue was the Old Opera House in Cairo, where we were scheduled to play a concerto for the piano and orchestra by [Austrian composer Franz Joseph] Haydn. I was barely 15 at the time, and the fact that I was going to perform live before an audience that had actually purchased tickets to come and watch the show, to me, was mind-blowing.” Yassa remembers.

“The moment I climbed onto the stage, I felt terrified and, for some reason, unprepared. I guess I wasn’t psychologically conditioned for the event. But the show turned out to be great and the audience was very pleased. That night, I thought to myself ‘Well, this isn’t bad!’” he says with a laugh. “That’s when I decided to keep doing this for the rest of my life.”

It’s not difficult to imagine Egypt’s premier pianist was born into the role of uncanny virtuoso, that he must have shown signs of Mozart-like genius as a child. The truth is far from that, Yassa claims.

“Before that electrifying moment, it hadn’t really crossed my mind that this might become my career. I was just studying the piano as a hobby. Just like any kid may read a book about geography or take judo classes, for me it was the piano,” explains Yassa.

Growing up, Yassa admits he was lucky to have had the parents he did. In a culture where there was a general misconception that “the piano is for girls” — whereas boys should focus on pursuing a proper education to get a real job — he didn’t need to look very far to find the support he needed. His mother was the pianist in the house, but both his parents appreciated the arts in general and encouraged him to take his hobby to the next level.

“It’s a shame that in our culture, people tend to shy away from studying the arts and taking it up as a full-time job. I see it from a totally different perspective,” protests Yassa. “Consider this: When a person graduates from, say, medicine, he is conditioned and prepared to become a doctor. Med students have no other choice. On the other hand, if you study music, you have a wider spectrum of career paths. There are so many possibilities.”

The Conservatoire hadn’t been established in Egypt when Yassa began studying piano. Shortly after, it opened and he immediately joined and was among the first in the nation to get an education there. He then received a scholarship to complete his studies in the then-Soviet Union as one of a select few, handpicked from different countries across the globe. Yassa was the only Egyptian student studying at the Tchaikovsky Conservatoire in Moscow at a time when the majority of students came from the Communist Bloc.

“Back then, the Tchaikovsky Conservatoire was the most reputable organization in its field and represented an incredibly powerful musical force that was also steeped in tradition. It was the equivalent of the Bolshoi Company when you think of ballet, or so to speak,” he says. “Today, especially after the fall of the Soviet Union and the opening of many other musical institutions, its name isn’t half as flashy as it was back in those days. Now there’s a music school around just about every other corner.

“The whole atmosphere was nothing short of inspiring. We had the best teachers in the world, but it wasn’t just the teachers. Like I said, it was the whole environment that you absorbed,” he adds. “Studying was in Russian, and I had to learn the language, which wasn’t bad, it actually turned out to be a plus! Again, I was lucky that my teacher spoke English as well as Russian. And at the end of the day, they made me into a pianist.”

And a pianist he is. Literally. He is emphatically not a composer, explaining that there is a great amount of creativity involved in what may be dubbed “musical interpretation.”

“No. I don’t compose,” he asserts. “As a pianist, and not a composer, I think I achieve the degree of artistic expression I desire. And, as strange as it may seem, as much as I feel like playing the piano, I never feel the desire to compose.

“Bear in mind that pianists — especially those who play music from a repertoire as rich as classical music — tend to discover that they are dealing with the conclusion of many centuries worth of creative output,” he continues. “And quite frankly, it is difficult to replicate similar music. The repertoire keeps expanding, however, and new pieces from those eras are constantly being rediscovered and are eventually brought into the light and played publicly. Music of value tends to resurface.”

Yassa takes pride in his work as an interpreter of music, noting that it takes a great deal of effort and understanding as well as skill.

“When interpreting, a musician plays the role of the actor and director at the same time to ultimately convey a certain message, like any other art form,” he explains. “If you hear the same piece played by three different pianists, one directly after the other, you will notice very significant differences. Every pianist plays the piece at hand the way he sees fit. For example, glorifying a certain segment of the music to stress its importance or increasing the tempo here and decreasing it there to achieve a certain effect. It’s like directing a movie, to a certain extent.”

Yassa has performed works by the majority of the greats, yet when it comes to classical composers, he doesn’t have a favorite. After much cajoling he gives in: “Well, if I really had to choose one, I guess it would be [Frédéric] Chopin,” he reluctantly admits. “Chopin would probably top the list of most pianists, by the way. When you listen to Chopin, you will realize that his music is attractive and has an excellent melodic line and is therefore accessible to normal listeners. Moreover, sophisticated listeners find his music equally attractive because it can’t be classified as being ‘light.’ It has a certain depth to it. This combination of accessibility and depth, in my opinion, is what makes his music intriguing.”

Yassa thinks that the state of classical music in Egypt is unprecedented.

“We have a wide base of musicians; the numbers are higher than ever before many of them are extremely talented,” says Yassa. “The real paradox though is this: When I played my very first concert, at age 15, at the old Opera House, the place was packed. I wasn’t famous and nobody except friends and family had heard of me [laughs]. Today, it’s hard to start a career in this field because audiences are confused and torn between all the different forms of art they are being bombarded with. The music scene is too crowded.”

Still, Yassa keeps abreast of all musical forms.

“I am against classifying music into classical, jazz, pop, rock and other genres and subgenres,” the pianist says. “Music is just a certain mood being conveyed. I listen to a lot of jazz; there are so many great names in jazz. There are a number of pop music writers that could be considered geniuses. The point is, even if some prefer to write for electric guitar and have their own unique lyrics and tunes, it’s still music. It’s just a different musical direction, that’s all. There are different forms of creativity and no form is less important than the other.”

What audiences need to do, he says, is evaluate the music being offered and classify it into that of value and that with little or none at all.

“Take the Beatles, for example. Their music lives to this day. You know how you can evaluate good music? Remove the artist and see what remains,” he claims. “In a case like the Beatles, if you remove the four members — with their hair, smiles and charm — the music still stands. It can be played in a piano bar or by a chamber orchestra, and it has been done, in fact.

“On the other hand, there are examples in the music industry where the performer’s image is everything,” he continues. “I think that if you take a Michael Jackson song and remove him, as a person, from that song, you will find that what remains is nothing. In this case, it’s all about building an image where musically there is no strong content. It’s a producer’s game where they tailor something suitable for the audience. And you know what? It’s not the best music, but if they can pull it off and are able to put on a good show, then good for them. It is, after all, entertainment.”

At this point in his career and after years of experience, Yassa doesn’t need to sit at his piano to practice every single day, although he wouldn’t feel comfortable if he were to stay away from it for prolonged periods of time. “ because it’s the tool through which I express myself, I have to maintain a constant bond with it,” he says. “But it’s not about practice anymore; it’s more of a search for something.”

“It’s not like my fingers won’t be nimble anymore if I don’t practice — well of course I may lose some precision, which is also critical, if I stay away for long — but now it’s more about sitting and tearing away at a certain piece for two, three or four consecutive days, not for the purpose of playing it right, but to find a ‘new reading’ of the work at hand,” he says.

“This is both an intellectual and emotional process,” Yassa continues. “It comes with time and takes a lot of work. Pianists are similar to stage actors; they need to be physically fit to stand on the stage and perform for many consecutive nights. But it’s only a good actor who has the ability to notice that in last night’s performance he left a two-second gap before responding to his fellow actress and hence ruined the tension of a certain scene. That’s the kind of subtle thing you’re constantly looking for to better yourself.”

Ramzi Yassa has an unbridled passion for the piano and owns a Steinway he bought back in 1972 and that he keeps in his home in France. “Pianos are very durable instruments, provided you care for them and treat them delicately,” he says. “You can’t leave the window by the piano open, for instance, while it’s snowing outside and not expect it to get ruined. Proper care includes tuning it every once in a while; that’s kind of like changing the oil for your car. After decades, signs of age may start showing and you may then have to get an overall job done on it.

“Pianos are actually also a very good investment as their value increases with time and, yes, they don’t exactly come cheap: A good Steinway, for example, comes with a price tag of about 50,000. But it’s worth it; a piano made by one of the top three or four manufacturers simply sounds different, to say the least,” Yassa explains.

“I would’ve liked to play other instruments but, at the risk of sounding biased, I think the piano is the king of all instruments [laughs] and I get enormous satisfaction from playing it,” Yassa says with obvious pride. “And, if you insist, I also like the cello because it produces a deep, almost human, voice. Yes, I consider it to be the instrument with a human voice. It’s fascinating. And when it comes to oriental instruments, I like the nay (reed flute); I love its sound. I don’t really have a least favorite instrument, but I guess any instrument played badly would be my least favorite instrument!” et

Ramzi Yassa currently lives in France and travels to Egypt regularly to play in scheduled events. He also teaches (mainly in France) and holds workshops designed to help the next generation fall in love with music.