A declaration of love to a composer who, in many ways, transformed my path as a “classical” musician: pianist Vanessa Wagner on Philip Glass' Etudes

Vanessa Wagner has been one of France’s most distinctive pianists for more than twenty years, equally at home in the classical repertoire and in contemporary music. Her latest project is the complete recording of Philip Glass’s twenty piano Études, releasing on 10 October 10. She has performed many of these pieces over the years, but recording the full cycle allows her to show how the Études work together, revealing both their technical demands and their subtle musical ideas.

The album follows Wagner’s recent recordings of minimalist and contemporary music, including Inland (2019), The Study of the Invisible (2022), and Mirrored (2022), which included works by Meredith Monk, Bryce Dessner, Nico Muhly, and Brian Eno. With Philip Glass, she brings the same precision and clarity, shaped by years of performing the pieces in concert.

We had the chance to speak to Vanessa Wagner about why she chose to record the complete cycle, how her relationship with the Études has developed, and the particular challenges and rewards of playing these pieces.

Philip Glass’s Études have become central to your artistic life. What drew you to them, and why the decision to record the complete cycle?

After more than a decade of performing Philip Glass’s music and including several of his Études on my previous recordings, I felt the need to take things further and record the complete cycle. Heard as a whole, these pieces reveal a more emblematic and radical dimension.

For me, it is both a declaration of love to a composer who, in many ways, transformed my path as a “classical” musician, and an invitation to recognize these two books of Études as one of the landmark cycles of our time.

How do you approach interpreting Glass’s Études, and what personal perspective do you bring to the music?

I come to Glass’s music with the experience of three decades spent across the full spectrum of the classical repertoire—from romantic to impressionist to contemporary. In his works, I bring not only my own story but also the musical legacy I’ve carried with me.

For me, Glass cannot be reduced to the long-standing labels of “minimalist” or “repetitive.” His music is tender, lyrical, emotional, and at the same time radical. He himself calls it “additive,” and I think that captures its essence beautifully.

You’ve described these Études as companions that evolve with you. How does that evolution influence the way you play them today?

Music has a magical quality: a piece can evolve with you over the years, revealing itself differently each time, transformed—or rediscovered—through a fresh interpretation.

This is especially true of Glass’s works, which unfold countless visions and atmospheres. The deeper I dive into these Études, the more their world opens up to me, and the more I can offer the listener a journey of discovery. 

Some of the Études were originally sketches for dance. Does knowing their origins affect how you play them?

Glass’s music has always been closely intertwined with the world of dance. He collaborated with choreographers from early on, and for more than three decades his works have been embraced by dancers perhaps even more than by musicians. Built around movement, pulse, and repetition—like the beating of a heart—his music carries an inherently visual and physical dimension.

While this connection doesn’t consciously shape my interpretation, I inevitably feel the flow, the trance-like energy, and a stream of images that arise as I play.

Do you find yourself thinking about the Glass' intentions, or do you focus entirely on your own interpretation when playing?

Glass offers performers remarkable freedom. When preparing this recording, I chose not to listen to any other versions—not even his own—so that I could follow my own intentions, directions, and tempi. What strikes me is how radically different interpretations can be from one another; at times, it feels as if you are hearing an entirely different work, a different world.

Some Études feel intimate, almost like a personal meditation, while others are more expansive and dramatic. How do you navigate these contrasts in your interpretation?

It is precisely these variations that give the music the feeling of crossing an ocean, of embarking on a journey. There is a multitude of atmospheres, despite its seemingly repetitive surface. One must navigate the extremes: profound calm, restraint, even stillness, and then trembling, quivering, tumult, and finally explosion.

It is essential not to be overwhelmed—neither by the meditative passages, where one can get lost, nor by the tempestuous ones, where one can lose control.

The cycle spans a wide emotional and technical range. Were there moments when a particular étude challenged you in unexpected ways?

I see the true challenge as finding the right balance—maintaining control while allowing oneself to surrender. For instance, the ending of Étude 5 is bare and minimal, yet carries immense emotional weight, leading directly into the explosive Étude 6, which must be perfectly contained.

The contrast continues with the hypnotic calm of Étude 12, followed by the playful tremors of Étude 13. Even beyond technique, the repeated movements can test the body, and performing the full 2 hours and 20 minutes is a demanding journey, both physically and mentally.

How do you find that balance between structure and freedom in the Études?

The term “additive,” as Glass uses it, demands a careful sense of structure. Every element must accumulate patiently and gradually—never too much, never too little. It is music of balance: played too romantically or rubato, it loses its power; played too dryly or mechanically, it risks becoming monotonous, even monochrome. The key is to find the precise measure of expressivity.

Are there moments in performance when an étude takes on a different character or reveals something unexpected compared to recording it in the studio?

Every concert reveals something new to me. Each Étude is a world in itself, leading naturally into the next. Each piece feeds off the one before it, and I feel this connection even more strongly when performing live. For example, Étude 20—the most beautiful of them all—follows Étude 19, which is less striking but prepares the listener for the subliminal impact of the final study.

What is the most valuable thing that you have learned about Glass' Études during this process that you’d like to share?

Glass’s music calls for the sensitivity of Schubert—played with tenderness, a touch of humor, deep reflection, dramatic intensity, and a sense of melancholy.

Philip Glass: The Complete Piano Etudes - Vanessa Wagner on Bandcamp

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