When I listen to Marco Mezquida (Menorca, 1987), I think of a kaleidoscope. When his music plays, I look into the tube and contemplate astonishing figures that follow one another with absolute naturalness. This is how this young pianist, with a career already well underway, goes about his creative work: with dazzling naturalness. He combines popular and learned music, traverses jazz or free improvisation with the ease of a centaur, or dives into flamenco without any self-consciousness. Transversality unifies him
Alicia Award 2021, BMW Welt Jazz Award in Munich 2022, Prix de la ville de Barcelone 2019 and Musician of the Year Award from the Association of Jazz Musicians, Marco Mezquida continues his dazzling career. We spoke to him just ahead of a new challenge: the duo of man and machine, Mezquida and an artificial intelligence system, engaging in conversation as part of NEO Ars in the auditorium of the CosmoCaixa Science Museum.
Music was a game to you as a child. Today, after all this time, is it still a game?
Yes, it still is, in balance with the fact that, now, music is also my profession. But when I was a child, yes, music was a game, as was knowledge and research. In fact, as I've grown as a performer and composer, I've reinforced that tendency!
Was it difficult to make the transition from passion to profession?
In my case, it's a completely organic process, as I've never had any other profession in my life. Even today, my spirit as a musician is present at every concert.
What do you remember about your student Marco Mezquida?
I was always a good student. I took my studies very seriously, with commitment and perseverance. I had great teachers and the academic training was a pleasure for me. At the same time, however, I tried to be a self-taught musician with a rebellious side that allowed me to challenge a disciplined learning system. I'd say I was a good student, but with a great deal of self-taughtness, because I was always more interested in the renaissance spirit of a Leonardo than in the pursuit of specialization; and the more the years went by, the more I needed to get away from a regulated, regulated and concrete education.
And what did you learn outside of this more formal training?
I learned about the bohemian life, the concerts, the daily work and the study at home, playing with hundreds of musicians in numerous projects. That's where the spark lies. I feel closer to the street than to the academy. In fact, I learned the most important things outside high school, the conservatory and the university, which always likes to boast about its musicians. It's true that in higher education we spent four years of our lives with excellent teachers, but we didn't get into the academy very well, and we didn't come out of it feeling like the best.
Your career is so long that it's impossible to sum it up. In this variety of registers, I'd say versatility is one of your virtues. But are you the same Marco Mezquida in all your facets, or different Marcos Mezquidas in each of them?
I tend to be the same in every facet, which doesn't mean I express the same message in every situation. It's true that versatility is one of the paradigms I've developed over the last decade; the ability to adapt to different situations that require specific preparation. My training is solid, and allows me to enter and flirt with flamenco alongside a great figure like Chicuelo; or, on the contrary, to create my own songs, which have nothing to do with flamenco; or to explore other sound worlds like that of Silvia Perez Cruz or Salvador Sobral, among others. But I consider myself more of an improviser.
What attracts you to improvisation?
Improvisation means creating on the spot, interacting, whatever you want to call it. And it takes a lot of experience to be able to show yourself as you are. In improvisation, I'm a recognizable Marco Mezquida, whether on solo piano, with Silvia Perez Cruz or with Chicuelo, for better or for worse, trying to convey a unity and coherence.
In the same identity?
Yes, in sound. I want to believe it. Sound, the common thread that I extract from the piano in different contexts.
And if your sound were a color, what would it be?
Good question! I'd say it's not monochrome, because I see sound energy as light. Maybe there are moments of a warm color and others of a cooler color. In any case, for me, music is a mass of sound, an energy, and the important thing is the work done to be able to transmit and express this energy.
How do you compose?
I don't have a method, it comes from intuition. Sometimes, a melody comes to mind and I try to develop it; other times, I start from a wheel of chords, or leave my mind empty, or a random image emerges. There is no method, only a creative impulse. That's what we were talking about earlier, about inspiration, that rushing river of ideas. Composition would consist in crystallizing some of these ideas from this immense river.
Tell me about your work.
My first two albums as a leader date back ten years. I've been part of many bands as a jazz sideman, with the Marc Miralta Group, Gonzalo del Val, among others. But in 2013, I felt the need to combine these collaborations with the idea of developing my own repertoire, and I released My Friend Marko with my trio, as well as my first solo piano album, La Hora Fértil. This was the first step towards developing a personal career. I can't forget my solo concert at the Palau de la Música in 2015, with which I wanted to break out of the exclusive jazz club scene in which I'd been evolving for years. And, of course, in 2017, when Silvia Perez Cruz called me for a duo album and tour, which gave me visibility.
You recently became a father. Has fatherhood brought anything new to your music?
I don't know if I'm a better musician now that I'm a father, but I feel that everything grows in immense love; it sounds very hippy, I know, but the emotion and joy of having a child is the greatest thing I've ever felt in my life, and the music feeds off all that sensitivity that this stage transpires.
What was it like working with Silvia Perez Cruz?
We really liked each other on stage, with a very special symbiosis. It was one of the best things that ever happened to me, because it was a dream to create music with her, and I was lucky enough to spend years with her as a duo. Our tour of Japan embodied this similar approach to music.
How do you feel about the current situation?
The reality is that the cultural ecosystem is very limited and there's a lot of competition. What's more, we're at the mercy of our fate in a society that doesn't support culture. Moreover, the idea of creating a status to protect the artist is still in its infancy, because if there is no defense of the author yet, the only thing being promoted is "every man for himself". I also believe that "small culture", where I come from, the culture that mobilizes neighborhoods and activates small theaters, must be protected. This whole scene is very neglected. It's a complex reality, and audiences need to be aware of this fragility in order to awaken curiosity and activate the scene with their presence. It's easy to think that the concerts are there, but if the public doesn't take ownership of the more minority culture, there will only be the mass industry and the big two-week festivals, and the rest of the year there will be no culture. Without curiosity, there's only mass industry.
Last question: how was the duet between your piano and the artificial intelligence system?
It was a very interesting experiment, although by showing it, we're already making a commitment to art and beauty. We worked with two scientists and focused on developing sound textures that were activated over a period of time according to the sound stimuli I brought to my piano. I would improvise and, depending on the timbre and resources of the piano, the AI would sequence this information and develop textures to create a particular sound universe. It was an exchange of inspirations!
Interview by Txema Seglers
Photos © Mireia Miralles
Photos © Miquel Carol
Photos © Fundació La Caixa