Gina Alice: How to catch dreams

Gina Alice: To me, there are two kinds of desire. One that pulls you forward – that constantly urges you to keep going, to push yourself, to meet new people, to experience new cultures. Even as a child, I dreamed of going to Paris and New York to make music. It’s still unbelievable to me that this longing actually came true.
But there’s also a more nostalgic kind of desire I feel sometimes – a longing to relive certain moments, simply because life moves so fast. Some weeks, I’m on a different plane every few hours. I once traveled to three countries in a single day. My youth passed in a flash, and in the music world, it’s easy to lose yourself in the hamster wheel.

Absolutely. I go through life with a grateful heart. Nothing should be taken for granted, and everything comes at a price. I often thank my great aunt. She was one of my biggest fans from the very beginning. Her name is Alice, which is why it’s now my middle name. I always feel her presence with me, encouraging me.
There are a few such angels in my life. I’m also incredibly thankful to my parents, because I know how difficult it is to support a child in a healthy way – with love and patience, but also discipline. I understand that more deeply now that I’m a mother myself.

That’s something I think about a lot. Life is a constant journey. There’s no final goal we reach and then just stop. It always goes on. I’m grateful just to be on stage and to share my art with others. And to have my own family with me at such a young age. One of my deepest wishes has always been to not only play classical music, but to create pop music and write my own songs. You can’t always realize those dreams immediately, but that doesn’t mean they’ll never happen. If you really believe in something, it will come true eventually. You just have to be brave and unafraid. That’s the most important thing.

That’s actually the most accurate way anyone’s ever put it. Yes, classical music does require a certain submission to something greater, to an unquestionable ideal of beauty. But there’s still room to express your own voice. The composer and the work always come first, but what makes a performance truly special is the personal experience and nuance an artist brings to it.

That said, there’s a lot of pressure in classical music. You’re alone on stage. There are no distractions, no flashy show like in pop concerts. You have to be fully in tune with yourself. I had to learn early on to rely purely on myself. But when you finally step on stage, ideally, you leave all that hard work behind and return to the essence of music: pure joy.

Classical music taught me sensitivity to melody and technique, but I recently spent seven days at Republic Record’s studio in LA, and I was just so thankful to reconnect with the origin of my love for music. It felt more intuitive and free. I got to make the rules myself. Republic Records is home to artists like Ariana Grande, Drake, and Taylor Swift – people I’ve listened to and admired for years. Their portraits are displayed in the studio like icons. I’d look at them and feel proud: This is what’s possible when you keep showing up and take it one step at a time.

Exactly. Classical and pop blend beautifully. I often write melodies on the piano that later become pop songs. Everything can have its place in music – why limit yourself? In pop, I get to express my more vulnerable side. I don’t have to uphold this strong, perfect image.

Good music is just good music. It exists in every genre. But defining it is as hard as defining great art. I’d say good music always carries intention and craftsmanship. And, often, the best pieces are the simplest. The music just has to go straight to the heart. It needs to move something in you – whatever that may be.

Every one of us has emotions. In some ways, we’re all the same, but each person also has deeply unique feelings. I wish for everyone to find a way – no matter how small – to express themselves. That’s what makes us human. Even in a 9-to-5 office job, there’s room to discover something joyful, even if only for a few minutes a day. And one thing is for sure: It’s never too late to explore music.

In classical music, many pieces were created from deep pain. But the more you embrace that emotion as an artist and even enjoy it to a certain extent, the more powerful the music becomes. I’ve known that pain, too. I’m generally a sunny person and I love making those around me happy. But my music often reflects my melancholic side. Humans are multifaceted and art and music are the most primal ways of expressing that. They have been a part of our existence since the very beginning of humanity.

Yes, I said that about Wonderworld, my first piano album. I chose pieces that could feel like a gentle hug, even for people unfamiliar with classical music. Music can be like a friend – something you can always return to. Two years later, I released my first EP, Dreamcatcher, with Republic Records. It was a completely different world, but the intention wasn’t so different.

Mozart’s Ah, vous dirai-je, Maman, which is a variation of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star – one of the first pieces I ever learned. Then Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2. It almost sounds like film music. His melodies are so dark and opulent – they’ve deeply influenced my songwriting. And I love Drake, even if that might surprise some people. Trust Issues is my favorite.

Schubert and Brahms come to mind immediately. Brahms has a heaviness, a darkness, and a certain logic and depth that I’d definitely describe as distinctly German – the patience to go deep and create something that lasts generations. It never stays on the surface. I was 13 or 14 when I first played Brahms. You can’t think in that moment you’re just a young girl. You have to step into the shoes of an older gentleman. I always imagined myself with a cigar while playing. So, in that way, classical music is also a kind of acting. You take on different roles. Schubert also has that longing, but with a lighter touch – more of that Austrian flair, like a dessert with a bit of whipped cream. His music is sweet and airy.

Schubert’s An die Musik. It’s a beautiful, melancholic piece – but not heavy. It describes how music can carry you into different worlds. It allows us to travel. Wherever our desire wants to take us.