Meet the musician: Daniel Pioro

The violinist was catapulted into classical music’s collective consciousness in 2019 following an acclaimed debut at the BBC Proms where, with the BBC National Orchestra of Wales, he premiered Jonny Greenwood’s Horror vacui, a violin concerto written specifically for Pioro.

His 2022-23 Southbank Centre Residency saw him collaborate with the London Philharmonic Orchestra, appear in a day-long programme of Biber’s ‘Rosary Sonatas’, and join with Liam Byrne and Valgeir Sigurðsson – two fellow members of Icelandic record label Bedroom Community – for an intimate concert that includes the premiere of a new work inspired by our architecture.

It was during this residency that we caught up with Pioro and get to know a little bit more about his musical past, present and potential future.

What’s your earliest memory of classical music?

Listening to the same CD of violin music by Josef Hassid, over and over again. The almost honky tonk quality of the piano, and the sweetness of that old recording meeting Hassid’s siren-song tone was completely beguiling to me as a child.

Did you always want to be a musician?

No.

How does it feel to perform in a concert? And what role does the audience play in that experience?

Concerts, when they are worth doing, are scary. The inherent danger and thrill are my personal reminders that I need to do this. The audience plays no role in anything. If it did I would spend my life playing music by Max Richter by candlelight in ‘disused spaces’, or playing for three people.

What’s your favourite piece of music to play?

I struggle with this question. ‘For Mira’ by Cassandra Miller was the last piece I played where I felt like I could inhabit it completely.

And what is your favourite to listen to?

I love listening to music that makes me step outside the confines of my practice. Am I allowed to be so vague? I don’t even have to particularly like the music, if it has integrity and purpose – define that! – then it benefits my brain in immeasurable ways.

Is there a concert venue at which you are desperate to perform?

I really want to do a 24 hour drone concert in Tokyo Opera City. It is the Valhalla of resonant spaces, and the concert hall all other halls will one day go to die in.

What does being an Resident Artist at the Southbank Centre mean to you?

It’s less of a residency and more four separate concerts I feel. It is a nice space to play in.

What, if anything, would you change about classical concerts?

We don’t have the time for this. It’s a crazy important subject and I have feelings with huge ramifications for the industry, and it is one that is either engaged with fully or not worth sharing.

‘I love listening to music that makes me step outside the confines of my practice.’

Who, if anyone, do you turn to for feedback on your performances? And do you pay much attention to reviews?

I am extremely self-critical and I know what it is I set out to do, so my personal failings are blindingly obvious to me. When I need clarity for my ideas, and the way things are portrayed – say, programmatically – I seek advice from my wife, Sam, who is wise and gentle and gives me a perspective on my work that I value. Reviews are dangerous things to read. There are some I cannot avoid when they are repeatedly shared so I cannot say I never read them, but their content is irrelevant to what I do. The moment you start believing the praise from people who don’t know you, your process, or your vision, you’d better start believing the unpleasant words too. And that is not a fate I wish on anyone.

And lastly, if you could collaborate with any performer, composer, conductor or orchestra, who would it be and why?

Conductor? LOL. No, it would have to be an artist of course. I want to make a sonic landscape for Janet Cardiff and George Bures Miller in which they can set their brilliant imaginations free.