In this story, Lesi Mei, a concert pianist and piano teacher, shares her unconventional path to a career in classical music. Read on for insight and inspiration regarding career switches, challenge seeking, performance anxiety, life as a classical musician, and more!
I grew up in Handan, China, and was introduced to classical music early on. My home had a giant poster, drawn by my mom, showing how the piano keys correspond to the notes on the grand staff. There are also pictures of me playing harmonium when I was very young, although I don’t remember that at all. My dad also plays violin on the side, so he introduced me to the business of classical music. When I was five years old, I was signed up for group keyboard classes. Throughout my childhood, I was very busy; most of my spare time was spent practicing piano.
Cities like Beijing had music conservatories with affiliated middle and high schools. I auditioned for those and was accepted. However, my mom and dad weren’t in agreement about whether I should attend or not. The rumor was that students at those schools just practiced day and night, neglecting general education. In the end, I didn’t go.
Afterwards, it actually took a long time before I committed to music as a career. I studied biological engineering at college, then moved to the U.S. and ultimately graduated with a master’s degree in exercise physiology from Florida State University. After that, I moved to San Diego. I worked for a few years as a fitness specialist at a retirement home and taught at San Diego Continuing Ed. Later, I began thinking about where I could go from there. I could’ve kept teaching for the rest of my life, or I could’ve gone to administration, which didn’t seem like a good fit for me. I found that classical music always gave me a challenge, which I think is important. I talked to the faculty at San Diego State, auditioned there, and was accepted.
The people around me were supportive of my choice to pursue music. As we grow up, we’re often put into this concept of, “Oh, you have to be a lawyer or a doctor, or at least get a doctorate degree.” I’m very close to my mom, and we call each other once in a while. When I made my decision, we set some ground rules. She said, “As long as you’re happy and can support yourself, which is super important when you’re in another country, then I think you should give it a go.” I’m super grateful for that. I know a lot of people growing up in Asian cultures don’t have that, meaning they have to follow a fixed career path. My friends, who were mostly scientists, were overall just surprised and interested in how this turned out. It was exciting, and I think I was lucky that I'm actually good at what I do, so it didn’t turn out to be a major challenge.
We also asked Ms. Mei some miscellaneous questions. Here are her answers (edited for length/clarity):
1. Are there any classical musicians who really inspire you? Why do you look up to them?
I tend to look to people who are living in our time. Social media brings good and bad, but the good side is that it allows you to follow along with people. There’s a Russian-German pianist named Igor Levit. I actually met him once; I was the page-turner for his concert at the Salk Institute. He was a super down-to-earth guy. He’s my age (35), but he’s already recorded all 32 Beethoven sonatas. When the pandemic hit, he did lockdown concerts on Instagram Live basically every 3 days. He also played a piece called “Vexations” by Erik Satie, a French composer. The piece is almost 20 hours long, so most people gather a group of pianists and “vex” together — one pianist plays one hour, another plays the next hour, and so on. Igor Levit played the whole thing himself. I can’t say I would do that as well, but his perseverance in accomplishing something big really inspires me.
Another person who inspires me is an organist called Cameron Carpenter. My husband and I were lucky enough to see him live at Walt Disney Concert Hall in L.A. He played the whole concert (about 2 hours if not more) by memory. He’s what you’d call the virtuoso organist: imagine someone who can move their feet as fast as my fingers. Seeing someone that good in and of itself is just inspiring.
2. We know you’ve performed as a soloist, chamber musician, and with large ensembles. How are each of these experiences different for you (for instance, in terms of the skills required, your approach, and/or the community aspect). Which one is your favorite?
Playing solo is definitely just a job of its own. The con is that it’s so stressful. I’m not that old, but I can say this: the older you get, the harder it becomes. You become more self-aware and self-critical, just because there's more life experience involved. But the pro of solo concerts is that it’s just you onstage; you’re the star. You’re the only person providing the audience experience, so that’s super rewarding.
As a collaborative pianist, the skill set obviously includes playing very well, but you also have to be a well-rounded person and a good colleague. You have to be supportive of the group — you can’t be all-controlling or passive. For example, if we’re playing a piano trio, all three people ideally should contribute to the music-making. During rehearsals, we all express our opinions, discuss how to improve, etc. There are definitely groups that have fallen apart because members didn’t get along. That’s super sad, but it happens.
Aside from that, performing in groups takes a lot of pressure away. Even if you mess up, people are still playing. But playing piano in an orchestra can be a little discouraging because the piano is a quiet instrument. If a piece isn’t written well, you can end up playing a lot of notes on the piano, but people in the audience won’t hear any of it. Good composers make sure the other instruments are quiet or silent during piano parts. Each experience has both benefits and stressful moments.
3. How do you deal with performance anxiety, if you experience it?
I didn’t have performance anxiety as a kid, which is a gift, and I’m grateful for that. I think I just didn’t care. My first competition was when I was 7, and I was just really tired of waiting. There were a lot of people in front of me playing. I think that kind of set the tone of, “I just want to get this done.” After I went back to school for a degree in piano performance, though, it became a little different. At the end of the semester, you have to play for juries, and you feel judged. I don’t think I experienced that quite as much as a kid; I just didn’t care.
I focus more on the physical aspect when I have stage fright. You don’t have to “breathe” to play piano, not like a wind instrument, so you’re more likely to get stressed because you hold your breath. You can get into this hunched-up zone, and physically, that makes a difference. There are physical cues that I incorporated later, like opening my chest and not getting into my own zone physically. It gets better as you perform more; you overcome the hurdle. I also try to drink less coffee because it causes me to feel more agitated. When I have a daytime performance, I have to remember to either not drink coffee in the morning or drink less. There are still times I forget, and I just do my best when performing. At this level, something you can always tell yourself is that your audience doesn’t know what’s happening. They actually cannot tell the difference if you’re having performance anxiety or not. That usually helps, as well.
4. What is your favorite part about being a classical musician? What is your least favorite part?
My favorite part is what made me switch: there are always challenges. I think pianists have an advantage: there are a bazillion pieces out there, so you can actually choose what you play. There are always new pieces, so you never get bored. My least favorite parts are stage fright and scheduling irregularities. Sometimes, concerts can come all at once, like 3 in a month. I can get really jammed up in a short period of time. In the summer, there’s a really long downtime, which is nice — I can practice and learn new repertoire. They don’t always come with enough notice ahead, though, so it’s easy to get stressed. So far, I’ve always managed, but that part can feel a bit challenging.
5. What drew you to teaching, and what is your philosophy/style as a teacher? In other words, how do you inspire and motivate your students?
When I was working as a fitness specialist, my workday was 4-5 hours, so I had a lot of downtime. I was contacted by people in the community regarding piano lessons, and as a young person in my 20s, doing more things was always exciting. After I became a real pianist, teaching was the best way to have a steady income. It’s a hard business, actually. I think for any extracurricular activity, the students have to be into it. The best part, of course, is the reward. When you have a good student, you see weekly progress, and I think that’s what gets teachers excited in any subject.
To inspire students, being a good musician myself is very important. In lessons, I demonstrate, talk about how I grew up playing piano, and include life stories. The students usually naturally become interested. When I occasionally get advanced students, the lessons become even more fun because we ask each other questions like, “Hey, what’s your fingering here?” There’s less teaching then; it’s communicating. But I try to be the best performer I can be. That sets a high bar and a good example for the students, so often it’ll come together. I don’t think I need a lot of verbal persuasion for students to practice.
6. What other instruments do you play? Which one was the most difficult for you to learn?
I play the organ and percussion. Organ is definitely the hardest. Piano has two staffs instead of one; that sets it apart from other instruments already. When you play the organ, you need 3 staffs. My feet sometimes froze because I didn’t know what to do; it’s so confusing. On the other hand, playing percussion is just fun. It’s stress relief; you hit things.
7. What factors inspired you to move to the U.S.? Were there any hardships or challenges that you faced when making such a big transition?
I heard on a podcast recently that there are psychologists categorizing countries as “tight” or “loose” to make sense of cultural differences. America is definitely on the looser end because we’re so free as individuals. Many countries — Germany, the Netherlands, Japan, and Singapore, for example — can be very tight, with stricter laws. China has its looser aspects because there’s such a large population, but there are a lot of restrictions culture-wise. Parents often set your career path and expect you to follow it. I never liked that part, even when I was young. I was always thinking about how to explore more.
I studied biology in college, and at the time, people believed that America was the place to go because of the huge amounts of funding for the NIH and other organizations. A lot of friends and classmates around me were considering this path, too, so that eased the transition.
Our first flight, I flew with a bunch of other people who were going to study at the University of Florida, so we got to know each other. Our flight was Beijing to Tokyo, then Tokyo to Atlanta, then Atlanta to Gainesville, Florida. We had an 8-hour layover in Atlanta, and of course you learn English in school, but it sounds totally different in the U.S. for various reasons. I overcame that barrier pretty fast, so that helped a lot. I consider myself lucky; from my personal experience, music and language are correlated. There’s a lot of tone variance, so you hear things better.
Another barrier was the high price of tuition. Financial aid wasn’t possible for international students, so I constantly sought teaching assistantships and more. Luckily, I was a TA for my last two years of graduate study. In the state of Florida, they waive all your tuition once you become a school employee. When I made the career change, even though my friends and family were supportive, there were a lot of uncertainties psychologically, being in another country. I think for that, you just have to be brave to see how it goes.
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