The Piano Corner | Da Capo
A return to the beginning — yet richer, deeper, and truer.
In memoriam of my father, the finest teacher I ever had. His lessons tempered my integrity and deepened my musicianship, teaching me that every note must speak truth and serve what is greater than oneself. Though he has left this world, his voice still lives in mine, and his example guides every bar I play and every word I write.
Photography by Pasit (Sun) Prakrittiwes
About Me.
I am, above all, a pianist—shaped not by institutions, but by time, solitude, and a lifelong dialogue with the great works.
My path seeks neither brilliance nor recognition, but preservation, service, and deep listening.
Music, in its highest form, is not performance but transmission. It demands discipline, surrender, and truth.
For more than thirty years, I have guided students, many from Japan, through the immense landscape of the piano repertoire—from Bach’s first inventions to Beethoven’s last confidences. These years have been marked by the restraint of Zen, the sobriety of Japanese aesthetics, and a culture that honors silence as much as sound. These encounters have transformed me as deeply as the music itself.
My approach is slow and rooted in integrity. I do not work to impress, but to understand—and to help others understand. Technical virtuosity, though necessary, is not enough; it must be anchored in inner calm, ethical intention, and respect for the living source of music. My writings are not intended to instruct in the usual sense, but to inspire: to awaken resonance in those who read, so they may find their own path to the heart of music.
Alongside the piano, I am a certified Qigong instructor and am completing my studies in Traditional Chinese Medicine. These disciplines are not separate from music, but continuations of the same search. They deepen my understanding of the body, the breath, and the silent intelligence of gesture.
I weave them naturally into my teaching, offering an approach to piano playing that is grounded in body, breath, and heart.
I write and share for those who recognize something of themselves in these words. If what I express resonates within you, you are welcome here. If not, I wish you the strength and courage to follow your own path. True affinity cannot be forced; it reveals itself only in time.
To those who may seek to distort or diminish my work, I respond first with understanding—for confusion and suffering often lie at the root of such impulses. Yet I remain standing, serene and without bitterness, ready to defend what I have built and protected. And I will defend it, if need be.
This path is not flamboyant, nor is it meant to be. But it is true. And in an age when so much is rushed, noisy, and uprooted, I remain faithful to the quiet labor that art—like life—asks of us: to refine, to preserve, and to serve what is greater than ourselves.