Vantage Music | Hong Kong | June 2025
Emmanuel Ceysson first gained recognition at 20 as a gold medallist at the 2004 USA International Harp Competition, followed by first prize at the 2006 Young Concert Artists Auditions and 2009 ARD Munich Competition. These achievements led to significant milestones: appointment as the Paris Opera’s principal harpist at 21 and, later, his current position with the LA Philharmonic.
Known for balancing tradition with contemporary exploration, Ceysson has championed overlooked French repertoire while forging collaborations with composers like Joe Hisaishi. Whether in orchestral, solo or cross-genre performances, his work demonstrates the harp’s evolving artistic scope. In this exclusive interview with Vantage Music, Ceysson reveals how he’s transforming the harp’s voice for a new era.
VM: Shall we start with your latest album, Hommage à Marcel Tournier? What inspired you to dedicate an entire album to this composer, and why do you feel his music deserves renewed attention?
Ceysson: First, it’s important to clarify a common misconception about the harp’s repertoire. While many assume it’s limited, the reality is more nuanced. The scarcity of works by major composers stems from history: most were trained as pianists or keyboardists, so writing for solo harp simply wasn’t their focus. It’s understandable – composers naturally prioritised instruments with broader reach, like the piano, while the harp remained a specialised choice. But this doesn’t mean the repertoire itself is lacking; it means we must look beyond the usual canon to the harpists who dedicated their craft to the instrument.
That said, we’re fortunate to have repertoire from harpist composers who deeply understood the instrument’s possibilities. Marcel Tournier stands out among them – not only for his compositions but for his rare distinction as a Second Grand Prix de Rome laureate. This honour, awarded through the same rigorous competition that recognised Debussy, reflects his solid compositional skill. While less known today, his work offers invaluable insight into writing idiomatically for the harp.
After winning the competition, he became professor at the Paris Conservatoire from 1912 to 1948 – over three decades teaching harpists. What I particularly admire is that, unlike contemporaries like Henriette Renié or Marcel Grandjany, who toured extensively as soloists, Tournier dedicated himself to teaching and composing. Those touring harpists often relied on transcriptions because audiences expected major works by Bach or Debussy. Tournier found this frustrating – having to adapt music written for other instruments.
The harp’s nature makes this challenging. It’s extremely resonant – we don’t have sustain pedals like pianists to control note length. This makes clear harmonic progressions difficult; you must carefully dampen strings to prevent everything blending together. There’s that stereotype of harp music where people say “it all sounds blurred”. Tournier, frustrated by this, wrote exclusively for harp, playing to its strengths. He knew which registers would sound crisp and clear versus which would create resonant effects. His harp writing is so distinctive that, if you gave a Tournier score to a pianist, they’d struggle – it only makes sense on harp.
This relates to our complex pedal system. Essentially, the harp is like a piano with only white keys, where pedals create sharps and flats. We have seven pedals (C, D, E, F, G, A, B), each with three positions (flat, natural, sharp). Setting a pedal to sharp makes all those notes sharp. This complexity is why non-harpist composers rarely write for us – you must deeply understand the system.1 Tournier understood this mechanism intimately, crafting music that turns its limitations into poetic possibilities – precisely why I’ve long wanted to record his works. As harpists, we all study his works because of his teaching legacy. He wrote accessible pieces too but his musical world is unique – contemporary with Debussy and Ravel and influenced by them. This album’s theme is “images”, similar to Debussy’s Images for piano. Tournier’s images capture specific scenes in ways perfectly suited to harp. That’s why this project mattered to me. Plus, we had these newly discovered manuscripts to work with.
1 The modern concert harp uses seven pedals (C–D–E–F–G–A–B), each with three positions (flat/natural/sharp), which alter all corresponding octaves simultaneously. This ingenious but complex system enables full chromaticism while creating unique limitations: harpists must carefully preset pedal configurations, manage residual resonances and physically coordinate foot movements with playing – all in real time. These mechanical constraints explain why writing effectively for the harp requires specialised knowledge of its physical logic, often deterring non-harpist composers.
VM: The album includes previously unpublished chamber versions of Tournier’s works. How did you uncover these manuscripts and what challenges arose in adapting them?
Ceysson: An American harpist who studied in Paris in the 80s – a passionate researcher – went to Tournier’s publisher, Alphonse Leduc, in Paris and asked to examine their old archives. He discovered unpublished manuscripts. So the recording features many never-before-recorded pieces – works known as solo harp pieces now appearing with string quartet. For example, “Clair de Lune” with quartet had never been recorded this way. There’s also the Sonatine for trio and melodies with soprano Véronique Gens, harp and string quartet – a rare combination to begin with, and these particular pieces had never been recorded. The timing felt right to document these discoveries – most were written in the 1920s, so nearly a century later.
VM: You collaborated with Véronique Gens and Quatuor Voce. How did their contributions shape the album’s sound, especially blending voice and strings with harp?
Ceysson: The quartet and harp complement each other beautifully. I knew this from my earlier album Ballad in Red, which featured Quatuor Voce – we’re old friends from Paris Conservatoire days. One of the first great works for this combination is André Caplet’s Conte Fantastique (based on Poe’s “The Masque of the Red Death”). Caplet was close to Debussy, and the piece demonstrates how strings can sustain and shape phrases in ways the harp can’t, since our sound decays immediately after plucking. Together they create perfect counterpoint.
Working on Tournier’s Sonatine for violin, cello and harp revealed details in the interplay between instruments that I’d missed in the solo version – how voices move and intertwine. It changed how I now approach the solo version. As for Véronique Gens – she’s among the finest interpreters of French mélodie, with impeccable diction perfect for this late-19th/early-20th-century repertoire. We’d worked together before at festivals where I accompanied her in an orchestra. I proposed recording these previously unrecorded melodies; she was delighted. This repertoire aligns perfectly with her artistic expertise.
VM: You wanted to collaborate with Joe Hisaishi since 2010. How did the LA Phil help turn this dream into reality, and how did the concerto evolve?
Ceysson: After hearing his score for Ponyo in 2012, I was struck by his brilliant orchestration – how he paid tribute to composers like Ravel (the opening echoes Daphnis et Chloé) and Wagner (with Ride of the Valkyries references), while creating something entirely original. His harp writing was particularly prominent, so I naively emailed his office in Japan, expressing admiration and asking if he’d consider composing for harp. Without a commission or orchestra lined up, I received a polite refusal.
The breakthrough came when I joined LA Phil five years ago. They actively commission new works – nearly weekly – and support projects for principal players. I told them, “If I get a concerto, I want it to be by Joe Hisaishi.” Being in Los Angeles, the city of film music, made perfect sense. They secured funding, contacted his team, and after a Zoom meeting he agreed.
When Hisaishi visited the Hollywood Bowl, we had an extensive discussion. I showed him scores like Ginastera’s harp concerto to demonstrate unconventional techniques, since he wanted this to differ from his film work – his concert music is more minimalistic, closer to Philip Glass. A year later, he sent the first movement draft. I travelled to Japan to play it for him and offer feedback, though honestly, being the genius, he is, little needed adjustment. We premiered it last November in LA, and this summer we’ll record it with the Philharmonic Orchestra at Tokyo’s Suntory Hall, with Hisaishi conducting.
VM: The concerto’s rhythmic complexity with mixed meters is unusual for harp. How did you prepare?
Ceysson: [Laughs] With great effort! I consulted LA Phil percussionists because the rhythms are so intricate. Hisaishi writes in conventional meters but layers conflicting rhythmic cycles within them – like four sixteenth notes per beat grouped in threes, creating constantly shifting accents. Initially, it was really complicated for me but eventually it became very playful.
The orchestra parts are equally challenging – every musician must navigate these rhythmic puzzles. But, when it clicks, the effect is extraordinary: this pulsing, almost jazzy groove. With a second harp and piano in the orchestra, you often can’t tell who’s playing what – Hisaishi creates shimmering textures where melodies emerge from different sections.
We’ve performed it in LA, Paris and Bordeaux, with upcoming concerts in Singapore, Seoul and Tokyo. Reactions vary – LA audiences expecting Ghibli-esque melodies were startled, while Parisians familiar with modernists like Glass embraced it immediately. Once recorded, I believe more listeners will connect with its brilliance.
VM: Your Tournier album revives forgotten French repertoire, and the Hisaishi concerto pushes boundaries. Is there a common thread in your approach to these different projects?
Ceysson: Not really. The Tournier recording predates the concerto by years. While promoting them together creates interesting synergies, they weren’t conceived as related projects. Tournier represents a very specific mission – championing our instrument’s history through a composer who wrote exclusively for harp. The only real commonality is that both composers place the harp centre stage. Otherwise, they inhabit entirely different musical worlds.
VM: Yet both works – one historical, one innovative – redefine the harp’s possibilities. How do you view your role in shaping the instrument’s future?
Ceysson: My constant goal has been revealing what the harp can do beyond expectations. With Tournier, that means presenting his music in fresh contexts that highlight its originality. With Hisaishi, it’s positioning the harp in unexpected dialogues – not as decorative background but as a rhythmic force trading echoes with the orchestra. I aim to prove the harp’s limitless potential.
VM: Just like how Beethoven pushes boundaries with the piano.
Ceysson: Precisely.
VM: What drew you to the harp initially?
Ceysson: It was the Mozart Flute and Harp Concerto that captured my heart at age six during music classes in Lyon. My parents weren’t musicians; they were university professors specialising in literature. They were highly educated intellectuals, while my maternal grandfather played clarinet recreationally but loved classical music. He had an excellent hi-fi system in the 1980s and would play me Tchaikovsky. When asked to choose an instrument after the introductory course, I immediately said “harp”. France’s public music school system made this possible – I attended lessons after regular school, eventually dedicating entire afternoons to solfège and harp study. I’ve always loved music and dedicated myself to it, but I was equally passionate about mathematics – so much that I nearly pursued medical school. The turning point came at 16 when I won admission to the Paris Conservatoire, which solidified my path as a musician. Just a year after graduating, I became principal harpist at the Paris Opera.
VM: How did your positions at the Met and Paris Opera influence your solo and recording career?
Ceysson: The opera house proved to be the finest conservatory imaginable. Night after night, hearing extraordinary singers and collaborating with great musicians across diverse repertoire taught me invaluable lessons. When I joined the Paris Opera at 21, I knew little about opera but quickly discovered its expressive intensity – we played ballet as well. This experience fundamentally changed my approach to the harp – I sought to make it sound orchestral even in solo performance, developing techniques to layer sound, building tonal colours, and refine articulation to maximise the instrument’s richness. My most essential musical education happened in that pit.
VM: You maintain both orchestral and solo careers. Do you have a preference, and how do you balance them?
Ceysson: [Smiles] As a boy, I dreamed only of solo glory – until realising few harpists can sustain themselves that way! Unless you’re a pianist, violinist or cellist, the solo path is precarious. I came to understand the necessity of orchestral work or teaching for financial stability, though solo performance remained my first love. The orchestral experience has been artistically vital – learning to play collaboratively, respond in the moment, and blend into something greater than oneself. Teaching has become another passion; to guide students effectively requires deep analysis of both technique and musicality, adapting to each individual’s physicality and mentality. This process has enriched my own musicianship immeasurably.
VM: What advice would you offer aspiring harpists?
Ceysson: Practise diligently, but don’t be disheartened by the general public’s limited familiarity with our instrument. You’ll inevitably face questions like “Why the harp?” or “Can you play something I know?” – which can feel discouraging. For players of less mainstream instruments, the imperative is to push boundaries and cultivate unexpected dimensions of your craft. The harp’s future depends on artists who can make audiences say, “I never imagined it could do that!”
VM: Any particularly memorable collaborations?
Ceysson: Working with Gustavo Dudamel and the LA Phil has been extraordinary – we performed Mozart’s Flute and Harp Concerto last season and will present Ginastera’s concerto next year. Klaus Mäkelä and I gave a thrilling account of Glière’s harp concerto with the Oslo Philharmonic. And of course, the ongoing Hisaishi collaboration remains deeply rewarding – we’ve already performed his concerto nine times across three continents, with more engagements scheduled.
VM: What’s the most common misconception about professional harp playing?
Ceysson: Many listeners perceive the harp as purely ethereal – an angelic, almost weightless instrument. But it demands significant physical engagement. Every part of the body is involved: the arms, shoulders, back and even the feet on the pedals. It can be as physically challenging as performing on the piano.
What’s more, the harp’s expressive range is often underestimated. While it can produce delicate, transparent tones, it’s equally capable of powerful, resonant sounds – even percussive effects. These are the qualities I strive to highlight in my performances: the instrument’s dynamism and unexpected strength.
VM: You transcribed Debussy’s Suite for Harp – works deeply tied to piano resonance. What compelled you to reimagine them for harp, and how did you address challenges like sustaining Clair de Lune’s harmony or Passepied’s agility?
Ceysson: [Laughs] Oh, it’s a huge challenge – this music wasn’t written for harp at all. The piano’s sustain pedal creates this lush resonance, but on harp, you have to cut it, clean it up, rethink everything. Take the “Passepied” – yesterday, I really messed up the beginning. The articulation is so precise on piano but on harp, if you don’t adjust, it sounds soft, blurred. You have to fight the instrument to get that crispness Debussy wrote.
And “Clair de Lune”? Most harpists play it straight but I use harmonics – plucking the strings at their midpoint to create this transparent, floating sound. It’s brutally difficult – the harmonics don’t always speak clearly, and your hand positioning has to be exact. But when it works the harp does something magical with resonance that even the piano can’t match.
What’s fascinating is that Debussy approved harp transcriptions of his Preludes such as La fille aux cheveux de lin and Voiles during his lifetime. For a composer who is so particular about sound, that’s telling. It makes me think: if he’d written for harp, what would he have demanded? That’s what I’m chasing – not just playing the notes but uncovering what he might have wanted from our instrument.
VM: How do you reconcile the contrasting styles on harp, where articulation and pedal effects differ radically from piano?
Ceysson: Take the Minuet – it requires very short, articulated playing with careful muffling. You must completely adapt to the harp’s normal approach. What’s fascinating is how clearly Debussy layers his writing – a clear bassline, thematic material, and the colourful harmonies around it.
As pianists, you achieve this instinctively. On harp, we must consciously create different sounds for each layer to maintain clarity. The Prelude is about resonant chords and harmonic progression, while the Minuet is more contrapuntal lines – Debussy’s homage to early music, really.
VM: I didn’t know Fauré wrote an Impromptu for Harp – I thought it was a transcription. The piece requires both runs and lyrical phrasing. How do you prioritise melodic clarity amid the rapid figurations?
Ceysson: It was written for Paris Conservatoire auditions around 1904–1905, when Fauré wasn’t yet director. He composed many competition pieces like this – “Morceaux de Concours” for flute, for instance. The Harp Impromptu was intended to test technical skills but Fauré finished it so late that the conservatory’s harp professor, Alphonse Hasselmans, had to complete it. Hasselmans adapted Fauré’s material to include specific technical requirements for evaluating students – things like cross-fingering patterns. But it’s a wonderful piece, nonetheless.
Fauré did write one other original harp work – Une châtelaine en sa tour, op. 110, composed late in his life for his close friend, the harpist Micheline Kahn. It’s brilliantly written for the instrument – though unsurprising; it comes from Fauré, really.
VM: How do you approach the balance between technical runs and lyrical phrasing in Fauré’s Impromptu?
Ceysson: It all comes down to layering – understanding how each note functions within the phrase. The harp gives us unique control because we produce sound directly with our fingers on the strings. Every tiny adjustment – the angle of attack, the release, even how you prepare the string – changes the colour and articulation. Hasselmans’s adaptation honours the harp’s nature, but Fauré’s pianistic thinking is always present beneath the surface. And let’s not forget, Fauré was also an organist. That contrapuntal discipline, combined with pedal technique, made his piano writing deceptively complex. Translating that to harp requires respecting both the instrument’s possibilities and the composer’s original intent. Yes, it was demanding indeed!
VM: Outside of classical music, what else inspires you?
Ceysson: I love to cook – it’s something I’ve always enjoyed. I’m particularly passionate about baking, and I’d say I’m quite good at it [laughs]. I also love sports – I’m a strong swimmer, I enjoy cycling and I go to the gym regularly. Maintaining this balance is important for me.
VM: For our final question – any dream projects or uncharted territory you’d like to explore?
Ceysson: The Hisaishi concerto has been amazing – the reception has been wonderful, and now we’re recording it. This represents a 12-year dream coming true this year, so it’s been incredibly rewarding. As for what’s next… I’m certainly not short of ideas, but for now I’m just trying to savour this moment and enjoy it fully.