“Creativity isn’t a mysterious substance granted to some, but rather a mindset, a skill that we can all learn and practice.” This belief sits at the heart of everything Yaron Herman does. The Paris based artist is a musician known for blending jazz, classical, and contemporary sounds into a style that’s both spontaneous and richly melodic. His career has taken him to some of the world’s most renowned stages, where his performances showcase his passion for pushing musical boundaries. Beyond his music, Yaron is also the author of Le Déclic Créatif (“The Spark of Creativity”), a book exploring creativity and how it can be cultivated in everyday life.
In this interview, we dive into the making of his upcoming album, Radio Paradise (Naïve Records), where Yaron speaks about his approach to creativity and the process behind his music. He shares how embracing limitations can unlock new possibilities, why silence is as important as sound in improvisation, and how collaboration fuels his artistic growth. “Improvisation is a sacred space,” he tells us, “and it’s much more difficult to accept silence, embrace it, and only speak the words that are meaningful.”
photography by Hamza Djenat
What inspired you to create Radio Paradise? Is there a particular story behind this record?
Radio Paradise is a collection of melodies that I’ve been working on for many years. It’s, first of all, a story of a strong connection between the band members. It formed through a process of playing and refining each composition in order to arrive at what’s absolutely essential. The general architecture of the album began revealing itself little by little as the process went on, by discussing it with the musicians and producer. It was really a team effort to make this music come to life. The title Radio Paradise came from a late-night talk about the power of vibrations (perhaps thanks to some delicious French wine lying around) and how everything is connected through them. Like music coming from a radio can transport you into a “paradisiac state.” Voilà.
Creativity is a subject you’re known to be very passionate about, having published Le Déclic Créatif (The Spark of Creativity) and given multiple talks on the topic. Can you share some of your philosophy on creativity?
I believe that there aren’t creative people and non-creative people, but rather those who use their creativity and those who don’t – or not yet, anyway. Creativity has been misunderstood for so long and has been put on a pedestal high above our daily lives if our job isn’t considered “creative” (artists, innovators, entrepreneurs, etc.). I find it crucial to point out that creativity isn’t a mysterious substance granted to some, but rather a mindset, a skill that we can all learn and practice. It’s really like a muscle; the more you use it, the stronger it gets. The opposite is also true: “use it or lose it,” as the saying goes.
The good news is that we never really lose it since we all have the capacity to dream, to play, to imagine. It’s about understanding the importance of engaging with one’s own imagination, regardless of age, socio-economic background, etc. I believe that giving oneself the permission to rekindle our perhaps neglected or forgotten creative spark can nourish other areas of our lives in a spectacular way and give meaning to our everyday experience. It’s never too late, and it’s not about all or nothing… no one has to abandon their day job, but try to find a way in which they can use their creativity. The book also gives strategies and tips on how to go about it.
“If you’re not failing, it means you’re not exiting your comfort zone.”
Did you apply any of the methods (or perhaps several) from your book while composing Radio Paradise?
Oh, you bet. One of the most underestimated ingredients and a secret known to many creative people is the power and importance of limitations. Instead of enlarging the number of possibilities exponentially, I tried to reduce it to a bare minimum with a few selected constraints for each composition. This allowed me to focus on very specific moods, intervals, harmonies, or shapes that created very unique qualities for each song.
Another key element is perseverance. The creative process can be a tortuous one, with vicious cycles. One needs to develop the capacity to pursue the process regardless of the obstacles popping up constantly. The daily grind, trying over and over, with the inner mind trying to divert us, distract us, or make us procrastinate – or even abandon the endeavor entirely. In fact, the “Kryptonite” of all these obstacles is perseverance. I could sum it up with a simple adage: Love the process more than the result.
Could you elaborate on this and perhaps provide a few examples of how these techniques can be applied in anyone’s life, not just for musicians?
I think I answered that in the previous question, but here’s another idea: One way to go about developing a creative daily practice with perseverance is a trick I call “Ridiculously Small.” Instead of putting the bar high and aiming for unreasonable goals that are hardly sustainable (8 hours of guitar per day, 7 hours of writing, 2 hours at the gym, etc.), choose an absolutely ridiculously small goal that, once accomplished, your contract with yourself will be fulfilled. For example, decide that you’re only going to do 1 push-up. Too easy, right? There, it’s done. What happens next? Well, a voice in your head says, “Oh, that’s really easy. I might as well do 2,” and then 10, and then you end up doing a whole session. You see the point? It might seem very basic, but it’s a way to get going, every day. It’s much harder to get started than to actually continue once already in motion. Inertia vs. momentum.
“One of the most underestimated ingredients… is the power and importance of limitations.”
Radio Paradise is your first ensemble album after two years of solo touring. What inspired you to return to a collaborative setting for this project? What do you think is the secret to being creative together?
I had the need to play with people again, and the melodies that I was hearing weren’t only for the piano. I was looking for a sound with more “air,” and the saxophone was the perfect choice. Most of the melodies on the album are played in unison with the saxophone, adding an extra layer to the piano and creating a sort of third instrument, which is neither piano or saxophone. I find that quite magical, to be honest.
The secret to being creative together – many things come to mind, but one of the more important ones is probably “listening.” Improvisation is a sacred space, and it’s very easy to fill it with information, much like in a conversation. It’s much more difficult to accept silence, embrace it, and only speak the words that are meaningful. At times, it can be as important to not “say anything” and let whatever is happening lead you. To surrender to the flow of what’s going on.
What drew you to saxophonists María Grand and Alexandra Grimal? How did their voices and approaches, along with Haggai Cohen and Ziv Ravitz, shape the overall sound of the album?
I feel that both María and Alexandra have a strong spiritual connection to music that I find rare and precious. I know that Ziv and Haggai can also relate to that. They are all world-class musicians with years of experience and very strong personalities. I feel privileged to have had the opportunity to have them all in the studio to explore and bring these compositions to life. So much of the recording is improvised, so it really showcases the musicianship and levels of trust and listening involved. I sincerely hope that the passion with which this album was made can be felt in the music.
“Creativity isn’t a mysterious substance granted to some, but rather a mindset, a skill that we can all learn and practice. It’s really like a muscle: the more you use it, the stronger it gets.”
You’ve mentioned that producer Daniel Yvinec encouraged you to take risks in the studio. Could you share a moment when his input led to something unexpected in the recording process?
I think Daniel gave us that extra pair of ears that helped us navigate certain inevitable “turbulence zones” of the studio process. From suggesting we “move on” to another song when we wanted to make another take, to letting us know we had “a perfect take already,” or telling us it’s time to take a long walk and come back with a fresh mind. It might seem like small things, but in the dynamics of a studio recording, it can change the whole result of a session.
Fear of failure can often limit creativity. How do you push past that initial hesitation and take risks in your work?
The worst way to fail is to not even try. If you’re not failing, it means you’re not exiting your comfort zone. Failure is an important part of learning and is a great teacher. Think of a child starting to walk; he constantly fails yet gets up and tries again and again. The child never says to himself, “Damn, I’ve been trying to walk for an hour and still can’t do it. Maybe walking isn’t for me,” or “Maybe I should first get a degree in walking and then try.” Failing is great – it means you’re trying something new. You can fail without being a failure; it’s a natural part of the process. Keep analysing the true causes of the failure, keep practicing with perseverance, and you’ll keep progressing.
What led you to choose Hymn (For a Good Day) and The Minute Before as singles? Can you tell us more about these pieces?
Both of them are very close to my heart. They both have a strong song-like quality, very melodic, and they have an emotional quality that I find compelling. Simple in appearance yet dense and deep.
Improvisation is central to your work. How do you approach finding a balance between structure and spontaneity?
Improvisation isn’t something you simply improvise. Improvisation is structure. It’s real-time composition. It has rules like every game. Like language also has its rules. Improvisers are free to draw from the entire historical encyclopedia of music-making, composition, harmony, melody, rhythm, folk music, classical music, jazz music, Indian music, etc. Then it’s up to our imagination to decide what the musical context truly requires. What NEEDS to be played rather than what I KNOW.
True improvisation is more about the intention than the actual note. It’s about what comes before and after the note, inside the note, rather than the note itself. A single note improvised with the right intention, viscerally, will have a more profound meaning and impact on the listener than the flashiest of solos. I always go back to Miles Davis’s sound, or John Coltrane’s… they play a note, and you just melt away and forget all your troubles for a while. That’s the true magic of improvisation – to make you dissolve into the present moment.
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