When Music Becomes a Spiritual Practice | Interview with Ty Rex

A few hours before his Andante Piano Nights concert, we sat with pianist and artist Ty Rex to talk about music, recovery, and the healing power of improvisation. Blending classical, jazz, and ambient music, he creates a sonic sanctuary where listeners can find rest. After the concert, we also interviewed some of the audience members who shared their experience with us.

Your work includes music, exhibitions, and therapeutic sessions. How do these practices connect and inspire one another?

I think it’s really important for artists to learn how to be beginners and practice in different modalities. Growing up, I didn’t really have permission to explore other practices, but as an adult, I leaned into them, even though it was scary at first. Over time, I realized that exploring them actually reinforced my music making.

There was a time when I didn’t have a piano, so I turned to pen and paper and began creating with my hands in a way that felt similar to improvising. At first, it felt like a contradiction, but eventually it became therapeutic and instrumental in my recovery from illness, mental health struggles, and a difficult background. Later, I even created an exhibition from that work.

I’ve also always been interested in producing big events. Bringing music into an exhibition felt authentic. I remember being in the room, surrounded by visual art, with my music playing, and realizing how naturally it all worked together.

"The Andante Piano Night concert felt like a therapy session. It was extremely relaxing, and I’m still feeling the effect long after it ended." — Audience member

You also perform improvisational concerts called Open House. What inspired you to start this series, and what do you hope people take away from it?

The series was inspired by my background in the church and other ceremonial spaces, where there was freedom of expression within structured containers. I have so many memories of being in those spaces with people dancing, painting, singing, and playing music. I wanted to bring that kind of experience into a space free of dogma or exclusivity.

Improvisation, for me, is devotional and spiritual, a way of surrendering with others in community. I wanted to create a room where other musicians could face the unknown, and where listeners could also embark on an improvised journey. Sometimes they lie under the piano, sometimes they draw or paint, but most just listen. And when they leave, there’s always a shift in perspective.

Does the audience’s energy shape your improvisation?

I was taught early on to read the energy in a room. Imagine 800 people in a dark space, and you sense energy moving around. These days I don’t approach it quite that way, but I do rely on intuition. It’s never fully about the audience, but it’s not fully about me either. The practice is about arriving neutral, tuning in, and asking: what does the audience need in real time?

Over time, if you learn to nurture yourself through your instrument, you also learn to nurture others. It takes practice, but it’s possible.

Does it feel different each time?

There’s usually a similar arc because we only have so many emotions, but every performance is unique. I tend to start and end in a ritualistic way, an opening where everyone “gets in the same boat,” and a closing where we all “step off together.” What happens in between is always a mystery.

Is there something about the therapeutic side of piano music, or music in general, that people might not know but that you’ve discovered in your work?

When I first began recording, I didn’t know how to communicate my story through instrumental music. My first album carried a lot of grief, and I was surprised when people told me they used it while grieving loved ones. That taught me about the telepathic, energetic quality of music.

Over time, I noticed that listeners either process something from the past, usually grief, or they get ideas for the future, both of which are creative acts, like channeling higher consciousness.

Improvisation is a spiritual practice, and it’s more accessible than people realize. You don’t need to be trained, you just need presence. That presence with the body and breath inspires people to practice, and the two reinforce each other.

‍

Reflections from Andante Piano Night

So much of what Ty Rex shared in our interview was felt throughout his performance that evening. The themes of presence, surrender, intuition, and emotional resolution were not just ideas; they were lived through the music. As Ty described, each improvisational performance follows an arc with an opening that brings everyone “into the same boat” and a closing that gently lets them “step off together.” That is exactly how the night unfolded.

For our team, the evening offered more than music. It created a space to slow down, reflect, and reconnect with ourselves and each other. We left with a quiet sense of clarity and creative inspiration. It reminded us, as Ty said, that if you learn to nurture yourself through your instrument, you also learn to nurture others.

Audience members expressed similar feelings. One described the concert simply as “amazing,” adding, “Honestly, it felt like a therapy session, and I paid nothing for it. It was extremely relaxing, and I’m still feeling the effect today.” Another guest reflected on the emotional journey of the performance:

“The artist asked us to first visualise an image in our mind representing struggles we were facing, and then he played music. That process made the experience come alive. The tension built up at first, and gradually, by the end, there was a sense of resolution. It felt like a piece of my inner self was being resolved.”

The intimacy of the space helped deepen this connection. One attendee shared, “Being so close to the performer made it really enjoyable. I felt more connected with the artist, especially as he shared his story, explained his journey, and talked about his approach to playing and creating music.”

Others spoke about the shift they felt within themselves. “I came straight from work with a lot on my mind, and after the concert, I felt completely relaxed, ready to unwind and even sleep.” Another shared, “It’s not just a temporary lift in mood; it’s a deeper, almost spiritual shift.”

For a few, the performance stirred creative inspiration. A pianist in the audience said, “I play the piano, mostly popular songs, especially Bollywood. I’m not a composer or creator, but I do play. This concert was inspiring for me to explore a more creative side of playing piano.”

Perhaps most significantly, guests spoke about the sense of shared participation. “The biggest difference was the interaction with the composer,” one attendee noted. “It wasn’t only about him; it was about us as participants. The session involved everyone, inviting us to engage with the art and our own experiences. It was truly exceptional.”

As Ty said, improvisation is a way of surrendering with others in community. That sense of collective presence was unmistakable. In a fast and noisy world, Andante Piano Night offered something rare: a quiet and meaningful pause, where music helped guide everyone back to themselves.

‍

Subscribe to our newsletter and be the first to know when new stories, blogs, and articles are published.

‍

Find out more about Ty Rex here.

‍

‍

‍