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Before he turned 20， Li Yundi had already experienced two“big events，” both related to Poland. On the day he was born， October 7， 1982， China and Poland celebrated the 33rd anniversary of the establishment of diplomatic relations. Eighteen years later， in October 2000， he walked away with the Golden Prize at the 14th International Chopin Piano Competition. World-renowned composer Chopin was a native of Poland. Today， Li is honored to serve as the youngest jurist of the 17th International Chopin Piano Competition in 2015.
Now with tens of millions following him on Weibo （China’s Twitter-like microblogging service）， Li has grown into an important figure with influence reaching well beyond classical music circles， but his fame makes his job more complex： Picky audiences assert that he has performed unsteadily over the last few years. One medal could not sway the critics. A professional pianist can only prove himself through continuous performances.
Another Side
On stage Li Yundi remains dead serious in speech and manner. On his Weibo， he comes off more charming and personable， posting selfies and his abs much like everyone else his age. “I’m actually pretty talkative，” he grins.
Away from the piano， he remains widely talented.
He considers himself a devoted “foodie” and enjoys sampling various delicacies and wine. He is an accomplished chef – his most popular dishes are Sichuan “double cooked pork slices” and “eggplant with minced pork.”
He loves swimming and boating and is obsessed to cars. He is extremely cautious when talking to the media. One reporter commented that artists lack a sense of se- curity， and he responded， “Actually， I don’t feel anything related to ‘security’ when I’m totally in my music.” When asked which he would choose between a tumultuous life and tranquil stability， he replied， “I would never define a situation like that. It depends on where I am.”
He seeks balance when facing complications. For example， he often avoids questions attempting to define his personality and instead talks about dreams or performance or promotion of classical music. He has become especially careful with the media after several firestorms.
“What fame can bring to a teenager is the opportunity to learn more，” Li asserts.“When expressing myself， for instance， the first thing that occurred to me was not to mislead others.” As a result， all of his interviews come off encouraging. His fans consider him a positive force. How Vitamins Work
Li’s mother has always known he was born for the stage. When taking him shopping at age two， she saw her little boy climb up the counter and ask the attendant seriously， “Ma’am， would you show me those， please？”
Li Yundi was born in Dadukou District， Chongqing， in 1982. Neither of his parents had any musical training. The only clue their backgrounds offer is some ballet training when his mother was young. At the age of three， his affection for music first emerged. While wandering in a music shop， he refused to leave an accordion. After a moment of consideration， his mother bought the instrument， which led to her son’s first performance at an invitational tournament.
“He would get extremely excited when we welcomed visitors，” his mother recalls. “The more spectators， the better he plays.” The accordion seemed too big and heavy for a seven-year-old， especially in the hot summer. The boy’s health even suffered from long hours of practice. So he began sitting at the piano. Before long， his first teacher realized that this student was extraordinarily talented. He therefore recommended his protege to Professor Dan Shaoyi at Sichuan Conservatory of Music. Despite his lust for performance， Li Yundi has experienced many psychological dilemmas during competitions.
In 1995， 13-year-old Li traveled to the United States for an international piano contest， his first major challenge. His first trip abroad compounded by his mother’s illness exerted tremendous pressure. The moment before he walked on stage， he blurted out to his mother， “I’m so scared. Nothing is in my head.”
“Calm down，” his mother encouraged him. “Forget about everyone and throw yourself into the music！” She pushed the boy onto the stage and returned to her seat.
During the second round of the International Chopin Piano Competition in 2000， Martha Argerich， dubbed “Pontifex”of piano circles， joined the jury. Right before his performance， Li Yundi looked at Professor Dan in desperation： “I’m so nervous， I hardly remember anything.” Dan quickly scribbled a note and passed it to him： “Selfless & fearless！” Li calmed down as he read the simple words.
“I’d do anything to relax before a performance，” he explains. “The best way is to get a good night’s sleep. And I’ll take some vitamins， which help me feel better.”
Reformer of Classical Music
In 2014， Li Yundi embarked on a three-month tour of over 20 cities in Europe and another 20 straight days touring more than 10 cities in Japan. Contrasting the annual 60 performances when he first emerged， over the last few years， he has annually performed over 30 times in China and more than 100 times around the world. In the internet era， fewer music fans are willing to pay for recorded tracks， so record companies are more dependent on commercial performances. Practitioners of classical music， the most traditional corner of the music industry， have been pushed closer to the popular music market.
Of course， critics see problems. “His crossover into pop music contaminated classical listeners and embarrassed himself，” said one. Others liken Li to Richard Clayderman， a French pianist famed for adding pop spins to traditional tunes. “I’m still playing Beethoven，” Li insists. “I pre- fer to stay orthodox.”
Li Yundi stays cautious about mentioning “change” when talking about his music. He interprets a duet with a pop singer as fostering “interaction” among various musical elements. His heroes include Yo-Yo Ma and Luciano Pavarotti， who both draw attention to classical music with the help of pop characteristics.
Fifteen years have passed since Li’s first trip to the stage， during which time China has seen tremendous development of classical music， evidenced by the emergence of performance institutions like the National Center for Performing Arts. Expectedly， both the quantity and magnitude of classical music performances now starkly contrast those seen in the 1980s and 90s. As an importer of classical music， the only way for China to serve its global industrial chain is to create favorable environment for listeners and gain great support from the government.
Now with tens of millions following him on Weibo （China’s Twitter-like microblogging service）， Li has grown into an important figure with influence reaching well beyond classical music circles， but his fame makes his job more complex： Picky audiences assert that he has performed unsteadily over the last few years. One medal could not sway the critics. A professional pianist can only prove himself through continuous performances.
Another Side
On stage Li Yundi remains dead serious in speech and manner. On his Weibo， he comes off more charming and personable， posting selfies and his abs much like everyone else his age. “I’m actually pretty talkative，” he grins.
Away from the piano， he remains widely talented.
He considers himself a devoted “foodie” and enjoys sampling various delicacies and wine. He is an accomplished chef – his most popular dishes are Sichuan “double cooked pork slices” and “eggplant with minced pork.”
He loves swimming and boating and is obsessed to cars. He is extremely cautious when talking to the media. One reporter commented that artists lack a sense of se- curity， and he responded， “Actually， I don’t feel anything related to ‘security’ when I’m totally in my music.” When asked which he would choose between a tumultuous life and tranquil stability， he replied， “I would never define a situation like that. It depends on where I am.”
He seeks balance when facing complications. For example， he often avoids questions attempting to define his personality and instead talks about dreams or performance or promotion of classical music. He has become especially careful with the media after several firestorms.
“What fame can bring to a teenager is the opportunity to learn more，” Li asserts.“When expressing myself， for instance， the first thing that occurred to me was not to mislead others.” As a result， all of his interviews come off encouraging. His fans consider him a positive force. How Vitamins Work
Li’s mother has always known he was born for the stage. When taking him shopping at age two， she saw her little boy climb up the counter and ask the attendant seriously， “Ma’am， would you show me those， please？”
Li Yundi was born in Dadukou District， Chongqing， in 1982. Neither of his parents had any musical training. The only clue their backgrounds offer is some ballet training when his mother was young. At the age of three， his affection for music first emerged. While wandering in a music shop， he refused to leave an accordion. After a moment of consideration， his mother bought the instrument， which led to her son’s first performance at an invitational tournament.
“He would get extremely excited when we welcomed visitors，” his mother recalls. “The more spectators， the better he plays.” The accordion seemed too big and heavy for a seven-year-old， especially in the hot summer. The boy’s health even suffered from long hours of practice. So he began sitting at the piano. Before long， his first teacher realized that this student was extraordinarily talented. He therefore recommended his protege to Professor Dan Shaoyi at Sichuan Conservatory of Music. Despite his lust for performance， Li Yundi has experienced many psychological dilemmas during competitions.
In 1995， 13-year-old Li traveled to the United States for an international piano contest， his first major challenge. His first trip abroad compounded by his mother’s illness exerted tremendous pressure. The moment before he walked on stage， he blurted out to his mother， “I’m so scared. Nothing is in my head.”
“Calm down，” his mother encouraged him. “Forget about everyone and throw yourself into the music！” She pushed the boy onto the stage and returned to her seat.
During the second round of the International Chopin Piano Competition in 2000， Martha Argerich， dubbed “Pontifex”of piano circles， joined the jury. Right before his performance， Li Yundi looked at Professor Dan in desperation： “I’m so nervous， I hardly remember anything.” Dan quickly scribbled a note and passed it to him： “Selfless & fearless！” Li calmed down as he read the simple words.
“I’d do anything to relax before a performance，” he explains. “The best way is to get a good night’s sleep. And I’ll take some vitamins， which help me feel better.”
Reformer of Classical Music
In 2014， Li Yundi embarked on a three-month tour of over 20 cities in Europe and another 20 straight days touring more than 10 cities in Japan. Contrasting the annual 60 performances when he first emerged， over the last few years， he has annually performed over 30 times in China and more than 100 times around the world. In the internet era， fewer music fans are willing to pay for recorded tracks， so record companies are more dependent on commercial performances. Practitioners of classical music， the most traditional corner of the music industry， have been pushed closer to the popular music market.
Of course， critics see problems. “His crossover into pop music contaminated classical listeners and embarrassed himself，” said one. Others liken Li to Richard Clayderman， a French pianist famed for adding pop spins to traditional tunes. “I’m still playing Beethoven，” Li insists. “I pre- fer to stay orthodox.”
Li Yundi stays cautious about mentioning “change” when talking about his music. He interprets a duet with a pop singer as fostering “interaction” among various musical elements. His heroes include Yo-Yo Ma and Luciano Pavarotti， who both draw attention to classical music with the help of pop characteristics.
Fifteen years have passed since Li’s first trip to the stage， during which time China has seen tremendous development of classical music， evidenced by the emergence of performance institutions like the National Center for Performing Arts. Expectedly， both the quantity and magnitude of classical music performances now starkly contrast those seen in the 1980s and 90s. As an importer of classical music， the only way for China to serve its global industrial chain is to create favorable environment for listeners and gain great support from the government.