Ivan Dalia, a pianist and composer who merges jazz with classical and world music, was born blind.
It was tough for him growing up in a working-class family in Teverola, Italy, a small town near Naples that he describes as “a concrete jungle in the countryside.”
He spent the early years of his life in and out of hospitals and doctors’ offices in Italy and the Soviet Union, where his father had heard there were experimental treatments. But once he started playing on a toy keyboard at 6 years old, his whole world opened up.
“I was nervous and angry and getting into fights, because I couldn’t see,” he said. “Music quieted me.”
By 9 he was studying piano, and under the tutelage of a blind musician he learned to read music in Braille. When he was 11, he decided he wanted to be a piano player.
As soon as he learned the blues scale, he began to improvise. “This meant I didn’t have to memorize the music, something I had to do because I can’t see,” he said.
Mr. Dalia spent 19 years earning dual master’s degrees in classical piano and classical composition at the San Pietro a Majella Conservatory in Naples. On the day he graduated, he bought a plane ticket to New York City.
“I came for love; I followed a woman here,” he said. “But I stayed for music reasons.”
Mr. Dalia writes and produces soundtracks for films and performs at events and music venues in Manhattan and New England.
Mr. Dalia, who is 40, lives in a rent-stabilized apartment in Ridgewood, Queens. It includes a bedroom that he has converted into a studio.
“The piano,” he says, “is my life partner.”
He recently spent a Sunday sharing his routine on a typical performance day.
This interview has been condensed and lightly edited.
FIRING UP THE BRAIN I’m usually up by 6 a.m. I don’t need to set an alarm; I just wake up after five or six hours, and I open my eyes. My brain says, “What are we going to do now?”
I make breakfast. I’m Italian, so I love to eat. I’m actually a food freak; my family has owned a restaurant since 1910. I cook duck eggs from a farm. I like them sunny side up, soft, with grated Parmigiano and basil. I also have yogurt with honey and nuts. And it goes without saying, I have espresso.
I love history and geopolitics, so while I’m cooking, I listen to Radio3 Mondo on Rai Radio 3. The news these days is never very good, so when I get angry about things certain presidents have done, I say, “Goodbye, you bad boys,” and I switch to Brazilian and South African music to balance things out.
ALL SMILES Like a lot of disabled people, I have a tendency toward depression, but I’ve never taken pills for it. I just push my happiness, keeping positive music and positive friends around me. I love to cook for friends and invite them over for dinner.
CLIMB OF COURAGE By 9 or 9:30, I’m at MetroRock Bushwick, which is a seven-block walk from my apartment. Another blind guy showed me how to rock climb. The first time I did it, I climbed a few feet and started to shake, but after a couple of seconds, I said to myself: “You have a rope and locker belt. You can’t hurt yourself if you fall because you will fall slowly.” I do six to eight climbs, but on the first one, I’m always a little bit afraid, especially when the wall comes toward me.
GIGGING When I come home, I shower, pack my keyboard and get ready to go to my gig, which starts at 1 p.m. I play at many restaurants in Manhattan, and right now, I’m at the San Carlo in SoHo. I take Access-A-Ride there, where I meet up with guitarist Dominic James. He’s a legend: He has five Grammys and has played for Paul Simon and Harry Belafonte and many others, so I don’t know why he’s playing with me, in a restaurant, on Sundays, but I guess he loves it as much as I do.
STAYING FOR DINNER After I’m finished playing at 5, I hang out to have dinner. That’s one of the pleasures of the gig, because, remember, I love food. In the winter, I usually order brasato, and in the summer, I like spaghetti with butter and sardines or farro salad.
HAVING A BEER Access-A-Ride or Dominic take me back to my apartment. I have a lot of adrenaline after performing, so to wind down, I have a couple of beers at the Keep, which has live music, or Milo’s Yard, both of which I can walk to. I’m a very social person, so I make friends wherever I go.
A SNACK BEFORE SLEEP I’m back home around 11. The bars don’t serve food, so I prepare legumes, which I mix with pasta or rice and grated Romano cheese, oregano and olive oil. I buy the beans dry, then boil and freeze them so they are ready to go.
To end the day, I tune in to podcasts that focus on geopolitics and history, which are my passions. I tend to listen to Italian ones, such as “Para Bellum” and “Limes,” because my English isn’t perfect, and they are easier for me to follow. But I do listen to YouTube’s “Geopolitical Futures” in English because the host, George Friedman, talks slowly. I’m going to take private English lessons, because I don’t like the mistakes I make when I’m speaking. By midnight or 1 a.m., I’m ready for bed.
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