An interview on Piano Solo magazine to talk about music and mathematics through the words of Ingrid Carbone. Read the full interview (in italian) here>>

Here’s a translated excerpt

In the international piano scene, Ingrid Carbone stands out for her multifaceted and eclectic personality. An award-winning pianist with a concert career recognized worldwide, this artist has successfully combined her passion for music with her passion for mathematics, a subject in which she graduated at age 21. But it’s not her degree in mathematics that makes the difference, but rather the fact that Ingrid Carbone conducts academic research on mathematics and lectures at the University of Calabria, while also pursuing her musical career. What do music and mathematics have in common? How can two seemingly distant passions and pursuits be reconciled in a single personality? Notes and numbers, reason and feeling, logic and creativity, scientific rigor and imagination coexist not only in the distinctive performative formula of Ingrid Carbone’s concert-conversations, but also, and above all, in this artist’s approach to music and mathematics, a methodology characterized by extraordinary communicative power and a genuine engagement with her audiences—both those at her concerts and her university students.

We asked Ingrid Carbone to tell us about her work.

Let’s start with your background. At 21, you graduated in Mathematics from the University of Calabria, then taught at the University of Bari and is currently a tenured researcher in mathematics at the University of Calabria. But Ingrid Carbone is also an award-winning pianist whose excellence is recognized worldwide. What do music and mathematics have in common?

Ingrid Carbone: They have a lot in common, but on different levels. In common belief, this affinity between music and mathematics lies in the basic arithmetic that is encountered early in music studies, when dealing with solfeggio. Many children engage with solfeggio, and it’s no coincidence that with solfeggio, a sort of natural selection occurs, between those who continue and those who drop out. Why does this happen? Rhythm is based on basic algebra, a form of mathematics that even a child can understand, so advanced mathematics isn’t necessary. But the duration of notes is simply based on the addition and division of fractions. So that’s a stumbling block that for many becomes an impenetrable and insurmountable wall, causing many who would have liked to continue to abandon music studies. Clearly, this could also be due to a less than ideal teaching approach, because it’s clear that you can’t just subject a child to solfeggio without then having them enjoy playing the piano. I’m talking about the piano, but this applies to any instrument. Many of my students who are good at math are also good at music. From this point of view, there’s a very close connection, specifically in terms of patience. But here I’m talking about something truly basic. However, if we talk about my work, then the mechanism is a bit more complex, or rather, perhaps it’s enriched. In fact, my work—not just my university education, but also my academic work—is having a huge impact on my music. It helps me in my studies, it helps me to arrive at an interpretation that is what I consider to be mine, the best for me, it provides me with a method, a way of approaching, a way of seeing the score, of doing research, of studying the writing.

I realize that in reading music I use exactly the same approach I use with mathematics, the same method, namely the logical-deductive method, the analytical method, a logical path that must lead me to a complete understanding of what I’m dealing with. In my experience, my professional growth benefits greatly from this activity—in this case, let’s say, from my university research—and therefore also from this way of viewing a composition as a perfect demonstration of a theorem where everything is essential, where everything is fundamental, where nothing is secondary, because in music, nothing is secondary. It’s unthinkable for me to treat a piece by separating it into more or less relevant sections. Each has its own meaning. Every punctuation mark, every slur has a meaning, that is, what it was intended to represent, the idea the composer wanted to convey; it’s an idea that is complex and multifaceted, and all of it is essential.