Interview Daniël Tomàs
Inside the Mind of a Modern Composer
This month, we speak with pianist and composer Daniël Tomàs—a versatile musician known for his solo work, as the frontman of Doppler Trio, and collaborations with actor Pepijn Gunneweg and Maltese singer Alexandra Alden. Daniël knew from an early age that music was his calling. We catch up with him in his tiny house in the northern Netherlands, where he composes amidst the sounds of birds and rustling leaves. “To me, that sounds like the perfect place to compose new music.”
“That’s exactly what it is,” Daniël replies, pride evident in his voice. “We live on a sort of estate, not in a community with many other tiny houses, so this setup is quite unique.”
“I recall you mentioning at the Concertgebouw that you use your tiny house as a composing space. Doesn’t your girlfriend get fed up with you playing all the time?”
Daniël laughs, “No, not really. She’s not home all day, and I think she enjoys it when I’m playing. But when I need to study or rehearse seriously, I have another space with a grand piano I can use.”
“Well organized,” I comment. “By the way, thank you for taking the time for this interview. How are things going?”
“Things are going well. Next month, I am heading back into the studio accompanied by other musicians to test and write new material. My new solo album has been finished for a while, so I’m now focusing on marketing it.”
“Is your new solo album a continuation of ‘Urban Amnesia,’ which you recently released?”
“That’s right,” he says. “The EP I released recently comprises some of the pieces of a seventeen-track album. So, part two will be out soon.”
“That sounds exciting! I’m just curious.. what does your typical day look like? Are you constantly engaged with music?”
“I teach two days a week at an MBO music program. The rest of the time, I focus on my musical activities and all the other tasks that come with being an artist—marketing, organizing tours, and occasionally taking on side jobs as a producer or composer that come my way.”
“Quite relatable,” I guess. “These tasks can distract from what you truly want to do, right?”
“Exactly. Plus, I aim to study every day to become a better pianist.”
“Since high school, music has been my sole focus.”
As it is clear already to me that music is the central thread in Daniël’s life, I ask him what music means to him.
“Oh, that’s a good question. I think the word ‘meaning’ fits well here. I need to think about it, but I believe music has always provided direction in my life. Since high school, music has been my sole focus, and the piano, in particular, suited my character. As a child, I had a vivid imagination, and the piano encouraged me to explore that.”
“And what do you mean by providing direction?”
“Well, philosophically speaking, I’ve always sought a meaningful life—creating music for others, performing. Perhaps also conveying a message to others. I’m just very grateful that I can do that through music.”
“I understand,” I say. “But there are many ways to lead a meaningful life. Have you ever considered doing something else?”
“Funny you mention that… I’m actually contemplating that now. Ideally, I’d teach less and start a new study in forest and nature management.”
“Oh, cool!”
“I’ve already enrolled, but whether it’s feasible is another matter. The ideal scenario would be to combine music and nature. My music already incorporates themes related to nature, but I’d like to raise more awareness about the forest and natural aspects among the public—not just its beauty but also the mourning of nature that’s disappearing due to climate change. On a more positive note, I think it would be amazing to give guided forest tours combined with music or something similar.”
“The ideal scenario would be to combine music and nature.”
“Does your new album align with that? ‘Urban Amnesia’ makes me think of urbanization.”
“You can see it as a prelude to nature themes,” he explains. “That EP focuses more on the feelings and emotions we forget due to current urbanization. Apparently, we’re experiencing an increasingly higher ‘noise floor’ that we’re getting used to, but it raises our breathing rate and blood pressure—a kind of silent killer increasing the risk of cardiovascular diseases. ‘Urban Amnesia’ is a prelude to an album titled ‘Ecopathy 1 – Forgetting.’ The fun part is that I’m linking it to a trilogy, each addressing a different aspect of ecological grief. Together with Joost Lijbaart (drums) and Cord Heineking (double bass), we’ll release a follow-up album called ‘Ecopathy 2 – Feeling,’ and the third album will be ‘Ecopathy 3 – Finding.’”
“Interesting,” I acknowledge. “But there are countless topics to write about. Why focus on ecological grief now?”
“That’s a good question. Beyond my strong intrinsic motivation, I find it incredibly interesting to research various aspects of ecological loss and compose pieces about them. A good example is the piece ‘Baseline Syndrome,’ titled after Mark Argelo’s book ‘Natuur Amnesie.’ The book vividly describes how we struggle to tackle climate issues because, when it comes to nature, our memory is limited: each new generation doesn’t know how different—and often richer—nature was during their parents’ or grandparents’ youth. The knowledge of nature’s richness fades from our collective consciousness, making it challenging—where should we go? What do we want to preserve and protect together? The same thing applies to music actually”
“I sense some concern between the lines?”
“Certainly, but I’m stoic enough not to feel sad about it every day. I do believe it’s important to convey these significant messages.”
Important messages wrapped in music. I ask him how he aims to influence others with his compositions.
Daniël responds: “I think the genre of music I create suits this well. It’s about finding calm amidst life’s noise, seeking a kind of stillness. Both my music and themes revolve around that. It doesn’t all have to be perfect and capitalistic. It can be less; more in harmony with humans and our surroundings. Maybe that’s why I live in a tiny house.”
“We call it Coldplay jazz—jazz with a strong, recognizable theme.”
“Practise what you preach, as they say. Anyway, I’m curious why you pursued this path. You come from a different scene. You have a successful jazz trio, accompany actor Pepijn Gunneweg, and tour with Maltese singer-songwriter Alexandra Alden. Why also pursue a solo career?”
“The music I create and play solo has always been there. Let’s call it neo-classical for convenience, but when I perform with Pepijn in theaters or with Alexandra, I do similar things—just in a different musical context. The same goes for the Doppler Trio. If you strip down those pieces, you often end up with neo-classical works. We actually call it ‘Coldplay jazz.’”
“Coldplay jazz?” I laugh. “Tell me more.”
“Simply put, jazz is often hard to follow. We try to incorporate a strong, pop-like theme that everyone can recognize. That’s inherent to the neo-classical genre—a kind of simplification of complex material. Or at least, usually. It’s always been there, and at some point, I saw other Dutch pianists doing it too. When COVID hit and all my work disappeared, I finally felt the space and freedom to seriously work on a solo album.”
“So many paths, so many musical choices. I’m curious about which other artists influence your music. Which composers do you put on a pedestal?”
Daniël answers: “There are actually two. On one hand, Johannes Brahms; on the other, Esbjörn Svensson. I consider Brahms as the height of Romanticism. After this period, music has essentially been simplified. I’d love to peek into his mind to understand his compositional processes or why he took 20 years to complete his first symphony. I’m currently delving into his music, and he composed such beautiful pieces. I think he holds many answers for me.”
“Interesting that you mention the Romantic period. According to Ted Gioia, Romanticism is making a comeback—from the simplicity we’ve seen in recent years to more complexity. What are your thoughts?”
“To some extent, I agree. The market is now so saturated with ‘the same kind of music’ that audiences increasingly crave something different. At least, I hope so. Additionally, a lot of music is now created with AI, partly taking over the streaming market making it almost unprofitable to do it yourself. I hope musicians will follow their hearts over time and choose a new direction. The new Romanticism could very well be a new vision for the future.”
“I was trained as a jazz musician but don’t feel like one at all.”
“I get it. You also mentioned a second composer earlier?”
“Right. That’s Esbjörn Svensson, which ties into my conservatory days. I was trained as a jazz musician but don’t feel like one at all. At the conservatory, I always struggled with learning the jazz tradition because I wanted to go in a different direction, though I wasn’t sure which. Eventually, I heard ‘Live in Hamburg’ by the Esbjörn Svensson Trio, and all pieces came together. That you could improvise in a neo-classical context—that was amazing.”
“And your teachers at the conservatory were okay with you exploring that? It’s quite an institution, isn’t it?”
“I remember that after about eight months, everything started to fall into place. A teacher approached me and said he was glad I had been accepted into the program. That felt great. On the other hand, some people called me pretentious, saying things like, ‘Just study music instead of writing your own.’ But I always completely ignored that.”
“That’s quite brave of you.”
“Yeah, I thought, ‘What are you talking about?’ That stubbornness runs deep. That’s why, apart from a few other gigs, I work quite autonomously.”
“A nice bridge to your Substack (for those unfamiliar, click here). Your autonomy is evident there as well. You write about all sorts of topics. What motivates you to write?”
“Well, it’s similar to my goals with the nature themes. I want to tell stories that matter to me—through my music and through written narratives. I was looking for a way to express myself online without using Instagram, and Substack aligned well with my desires.”
He continues: “Writing is also contemplative. All the topics I put on paper stem from thoughts swirling in my head—like a diary. That’s how I try to connect with my audience.”
As we wrap up, I ask, as I do with other artists of the month, about Daniël’s future dreams. “What lies ahead for you?”
“I’m both excited and pleased that I’m following my own taste more. A trio album like this is truly a dream come true. I can also imagine recording something for ECM Records someday. But…” Daniël pauses to think. “Actually, the most enjoyable thing would be to play 20 concerts a year for an enthusiastic audience. That’s a goal I’m working towards—to make it all more sustainable.”
“Maybe in a few years, I’ll release an album with nothing but 20-minute pieces. And the streaming world will just have to deal with it,”
“Building on those albums about ecological grief, I might also release an app alongside the third album—something that allows you to listen to different pieces on nature grief while walking through a natural environment. Also as a way to slowly move away from the traditional model of releasing a new album every year. Maybe in a few years, I’ll put out a record with only 20-minute compositions. And then the streaming world will just have to take it as it is,” he laughs.”
