INDIAN FUSION WITH SWARMANDAL, TABLA & FLUTE

In 2022, I had the pleasure of recording three tracks with artists Alexandre Calori and Silvio Pierotti for the Raga da Hora project. Both have decades of experience in the music scene, and these recording sessions became unforgettable days, full of learning, inspiration, and new musical horizons.

I played the swarmandal. Alexandre Calori is deeply immersed in the traditions of tabla and raga, while Silvio Pierotti is an absolute master of the transverse flute. During a break, Silvio played an (Jethro Tull) Ian Anderson's solo completely from memory (I think it was from the album Thick as a Brick, although I'm not sure now), note for note, with the same spirit and intensity of the band. It was a long solo, and for a moment I really felt like Ian Anderson was right there in front of me. An incredible experience, especially considering that the first time I heard Jethro Tull was in the late 70s.

I was truly honored by their invitation. I would cross the city on a crowded bus during rush hour just to be there with those guys, immersed in that atmosphere. My role was to play the foundation of the songs using only the four bass strings of the swarmandal (which has over twenty strings) repeating hypnotic loops throughout the tracks. And believe me: it's much, much harder than it sounds.

MUSIC AS A BRIDGE: FAR BEYOND ENTERTAINMENT, A PATH TO PEACE

The main mission of musicians is not just to entertain, but to touch something deeper, something that often cannot be put into words. Music has always been present in the most important moments of humanity, in rituals, celebrations, pain, and reconstruction. It crosses cultures, languages, and borders without needing translation. And that is precisely why its role goes far beyond the stage or digital platforms.

Promoting peace doesn't mean making "calm" or "beautiful" music. It means building bridges where there was previously distance. It means reminding people that they feel, suffer, love, and dream in very similar ways. When a musician expresses themselves truthfully, they open a space where others can recognize themselves. And this recognition is the beginning of any form of peace. Going beyond entertainment means being aware of the impact that each sound can generate. A song can soothe someone on a difficult day, give them strength to continue, provoke reflection, and even change the way someone sees the world. That's no small thing. That's responsibility. The musician who understands this ceases to be merely a performer of notes and becomes an agent of transformation. Even without explicit discourse, even without political intent, music already carries within itself the power to reorganize emotions, to calm internal and, consequently, external conflicts. Collective peace begins within each individual, and music has direct access to this territory.

In a fast-paced, noisy, and often divided world, the musician has the chance to offer something rare: presence, sensitivity, and real connection. It's not about saving the world alone, but about contributing to small changes that spread invisibly. A song can be the silent turning point in someone's life. Perhaps the great mission is this: to remind human beings of their own humanity. And when that happens, even if only for a few minutes, peace ceases to be a distant idea and becomes a concrete experience.

SUCCEEDING IN MUSIC TODAY NO LONGER HAS A SINGLE DEFINITION

IMHO...

Succeeding in music today is no longer a straight line, nor a single destination that everyone recognizes when they see it. For a long time, this idea seemed simple. Success meant getting radio airplay, signing with a record label, making a living from shows, and preferably becoming famous. But this model hasn't completely disappeared; it's just no longer the only one. The problem is that many people continue to use this old yardstick to measure a completely different scenario, and then frustration becomes the norm. Today, with platforms like Spotify and YouTube, any musician can release their work to the whole world without depending on intermediaries. This has opened doors, but it has also created enormous confusion. Because if before the path was difficult but clear, now it is accessible but undefined. You can have thousands of listeners and earn almost nothing. You can have few people following you and still build a consistent income. You can be technically excellent and remain invisible. Or you can be simple and direct and find an audience quickly. In this scenario, success has ceased to be an external standard and has become an internal decision. However, this decision is rarely made consciously. Most musicians enter the game without defining what they truly want, and end up being carried along by the flow of platforms, trends, and the behavior of other artists. Before they know it, they're chasing numbers, trying to understand the Instagram algorithm, or constantly seeking validation without even knowing if it makes sense for the type of music they want to make.

In practice, there are different real ways to succeed today, and they are not always the same or compatible. There's the path of those who transform music into a sustainable business, even without great visibility. There's the path of those who seek reach and grow their audience, but don't always manage to convert that into income. There's the path of those who prioritize artistic expression above all else, maintaining a strong identity, even if it limits growth. And there's the path of those who simply organize their lives so that music is a balanced part of them, without the pressure of constantly having to prove something. The critical point is that each of these choices comes at a price. Seeking reach may require constant adaptation, speed, presence, and even aesthetic concessions. Seeking artistic coherence may mean growing more slowly or speaking to fewer people. Seeking money may lead to more strategic than emotional decisions. And trying to balance everything at once, without clarity, usually generates burnout and a feeling of always being in the wrong place.

Succeeding in music today is not about reaching a specific number, nor achieving a visible milestone for others. It's about building a path where creation, audience, and life can coexist without permanent conflict. This doesn't mean the absence of difficulty, but rather the absence of constant contradiction. When what you do, how you show it, and the result you obtain begin to make sense together, you approach a real definition of success. The great change is not in technology, nor in platforms, but in the responsibility that has fallen into the hands of the musician themselves. Before, the system defined what success was. Now, this definition needs to come from within. And while this choice is not made, any result seems insufficient, because there is no clear criterion to say whether it was successful or not.