Anonymity, Piano playing, and Daoism: an image in which blurred individuals walk along a spotlit tunnel

Spotlight or quiet life?

Supporting Your Piano Pathway
Reflection by Andrew Eales


Anonymity can mean many things. As musicians, we perhaps associate the word with those composers of old whose names have been lost to history. Their works are attributed to “anon”, either because they weren’t that interested in taking the credit, or because they left the stage without providing a forwarding address.

And let’s face it, in the pressured world of piano playing, as elsewhere, being well-known certainly brings its own challenges, with exposure to scrutiny, conflict, and the envy of those who are less successful or simply unfulfilled. No wonder some actually value the quiet life more highly than the spotlight!

And yet we still sometimes confuse anonymity with failure, because we equate success with making a name for oneself. But there are many other (some would say better) ways to measure our success in life.

So should we actively pursue anonymity? Can a wise balance be found, whereby we authentically share our gifts and lives without constantly craving the limelight?

Another perspective

When I first started exploring the philosophy of the Daoist classics, one idea that I initially found difficult to accept is that of leaving no mark on the world around us. Surely we all want to make a difference, to create a legacy, to have significance, and prove our value to others?

And yet there is a recurring theme in the classics that we should be one with the world rather than the master of it. In our quest to “return to the source”, as the sages outlined it, we ultimately surrender our “selves” completely, and become anonymous. And the philosophers considered this a good thing, an ideal that is worth us all aspiring to.

This seemed to me such a radically different perspective to the one I grew up with that it took a while for my startled indignation to turn to curiosity, and eventually a level of understanding.

The value of emptiness

In her highly approachable translation Lieh-Tzu: A Taoist Guide to Practical Living (2001), Eva Wong uses the phrase “the value of emptiness” to introduce the following passage:

How is this disavowal of recognition, and an attitude of non-attachment to the value judgments of others beneficial?

The passage goes on to explain some very real benefits in terms of our practical daily living, happiness, and even our personal identity:

Crowning achievements

Pondering this wisdom from the 5th century BCE reminds me of the earlier Daoist sage Laozi (Lao-Tzu), about whom surprisingly little is known. In fact, beyond his honourary title, we don’t even know Laozi’s real name: he is quite literally anonymous!

According to legend, Laozi served as historian in charge of the archives of the Chou court. Dismayed by decline in public life, he decided to pack his bags and leave in search of the quiet life. Reaching the Han-ku Pass, he was met by the gatekeeper who, realising the old man was planning to withdraw from the affairs of the world, asked him to write a valedictory book, which became the Daodejing (Tao Te Ching).

Apocryphal though this story may be, it is certainly revealing. For Laozi, the anonymity of retiring from the public eye in search of peace was the crowning achievement of a larger life, and even upon his retirement he did not turn away from the opportunity to write a short book when asked!

Laozi was obviously not lazy, and happily shared his wisdom to help others. He did not simply turn his back on the world. But despite his success, he prized personal wellbeing and enlightenment above fame, power and influence, and it was for that reason that he forsook them and chose the Path of Anonymity.

The irony of the story is of course that Laozi has become one of the most respected thinkers in world history, his book Daodejing being the third most-translated work ever written. His anonymity was rewarded with global fame!

To Reflect Upon

The path of anonymity is perhaps simply an attitude of rejecting excessive self-promotion and competitive striving, a daily decision to make the most of auspicious opportunities which present themselves, but to do so by being who we are while following the natural way.

As musicians, “making a name” for ourselves can very easily become an unhealthy preoccupation, whether through competition in its many forms, or through self-promotion.

Perhaps we need to stop and consider whether we are truly content with the path we are on, and learn to more quickly spot those moments where we might have allowed ourselves to lose our balance.




Published by

Andrew Eales

Andrew Eales is a widely respected piano educator based in Milton Keynes UK. His many publications include 'How to Practise Music' (Hal Leonard, 2021).