Where do you wake up? I spent the first four months of the pandemic in an isolated part of the valley of Engadin in the Swiss Alps. Since June I’ve been in Piedmont, the part of the Italian countryside where my parents were originally from. How do you relax? With a walk in the countryside, through forests and vineyards. In the hills I feel lost, but in the best way, as if I’ve disappeared into the freedom of nature. I’ll draw with my daughter, or work if the mood takes me. I have two studios here: one for my computers, and another with my piano where I play. Sundays growing up? In my teens I spent weekends away from our home in Turin here in the countryside with my family. A lady from the village would come to the house and cook. I’d walk in the mornings with my father, and return to the smell of fresh gnocchi with sage butter as we came through the door. How have you been coping? Before the pandemic I was exhausted and found it hard to concentrate. I was tired of life spent constantly on the run. I needed something to slow me down. I find creativity flows better when you’re peaceful. I’m like a teenager again: my time is free and the future uncertain. I miss concerts, but will keep a hold of the essence of this new life. And Sunday night? Once the sun goes down I light a fire in the living room, we have dinner as it crackles and whirrs. Every evening I record a musical diary on the piano. I write a written journal, too. As human beings we leave too many polluting footprints, so I want to document my inner traces, something more poetic, as a gift to leave behind when I’m gone.