The Mozart program actually came about more by accident than design. But looking now at the works chosen, I am very pleased. They are all very, very positive in outlook. And they also have many levels, many layers—often hidden.

The Piano Concerto No. 13 is one of my favorites. It is not as straightforward—or as easy—as it seems or appears. In fact, the lightheartedness is quite deceptive, and the ending is decidedly subdued. The Piano Concerto No. 23 is so warm, so deep, so poignant. And the early divertimentos of Mozart are just lots of fun!

Bartók's Piano Concerto No. 3 is quite different from his other concertos. It is one of his least gritty pieces, one of his last works. It's as if he were writing Mozart at the end. He wrote it, on his deathbed, for his wife. She was a pianist, and Bartók wrote it with her abilities in mind. He also wanted to leave a work that would have practical value, a piece she could support herself with after his death.

I had mixed feelings about performing this concerto since I played it with the CSO not too long ago. It was Boulez, actually, who suggested that we do it, so, of course, I agreed. I adore anything with Pierre. He is one of the three greatest musicians I have ever met, an artist I truly believe in.

Whatever I do with him is a privilege. If I weren't playing myself, I would go to hear anything involving him.

I have been getting more deeply into early instruments. I spent days and days in Vienna in one of the museums, playing several 18th- and 19th-century fortepianos and early pianos, and did a Mozart recital on these instruments. It was a voyage of discovery. I am even getting a copy of the clavichord that Leopold Mozart ordered for Wolfgang to take on his travels. Imagine how hard the father worked so his son would have just the right instrument, for practicing and composing, when he was away from home! I am now seriously thinking of the possibility of recording on old instruments.

— Mitsuko Uchida