Featured image : Jazz pianist Bill Risby
This interview is the twenty-seventh in a series of interviews with a number of Australia’s most distinguished jazz artists, which originally were published monthly in Loudmouth, the e-zine edited by Dr Richard Letts. Loudmouth ceased publication in late 2024, so subsequent interviews will now appear in Sydney Arts Guide. They will now concentrate on musicians who are active either in Sydney or in New South Wales regional areas. These interviews include two sections: a biography provided by the artist and a question & answer interview which is conducted by email. Such interviews are designed to be brief, relevant and informative, allowing those artists to reveal hitherto unknown information about their musical careers, and giving them an opportunity to express their views on the Australian music scene. All artists in this series were asked similar questions about their experiences as a music maker, plus other questions which arose during the interview process. Originally they were based on the ten questions used by pianist Chris Cody in his celebrated 10 x 10 series of interviews, published in Loudmouth between August, 2021 and May, 2022. We express our appreciation that Chris gave us permission to use his questions, which facilitated such interesting interviews in his 10 x 10 series.
BIOGRAPHY
Bill Risby started piano at the age of three, and after progressing through classical grades, studied jazz at the NSW Conservatorium of Music. He is now regarded by many as one of the most accomplished pianists in jazz, improvised and popular music in Australia. He has toured the world playing his own music, has 12 albums to his name, and is on the Ponca Jazz recording label (Norway), and Universal Music. He has played with many visiting jazz artists such as Bob Mintzer, Maria Schneider, Kitty Margolis, Wayne Bergeron, Bobby Shew, Doug Cameron and more. He works as Lisa Simone’s music director when she’s here in Australia and this year (2026) at the Java Jazz Festival in Jakarta. His piano playing was featured in the films Peter Rabbit; the Baz Luhrmann films Australia and The Great Gatsby; the new biographical movie on Barry Otto’s life Otto on Otto; David Wenham’s film Ellipsis; A Stitch In Time; as well as being the sound of Peter Allen’s piano in the Australian telemovie Not The Boy Next Door.

He is the pianist for Grammy-winning artist Leo Sayer, played on his latest two albums, and has toured extensively with him both internationally and in Australia. He played piano on Glenn Shorrock’s album Rise Up, on Ian Moss’s self-titled album, and on Russell Morris’s recent ARIA award-winning CD Red Dirt-Red Heart. He also played on Lime Cordiale’s single Leaving on a High, which is soon to be released. He has also played with Jared Leto’s band Thirty Seconds To Mars, Spandau Ballet, Andraé Crouch, The Supremes, The Temptations, Joe Camilleri, Richard Clapton, Lisa Simone, Marcia Hines, IOTA, and supported Dionne Warwick.
In country music Bill has played on many albums of the following artists: John Williamson, Kasey Chambers, Adam Harvey, Troy Cassar-Daley, Gina Jeffreys, Beccy Cole, Melinda Schneider, Lyn Bowtell, Luke O’Shea, Graeme Connors, Sara Storer, Felicity Urquhart and Mike McLellan.
Some comments about/to Bill:
I’ve been listening to your music and want to tell you how wonderful it is… in every way… the writing, the playing, the conceptual genesis of the compositions etc etc. Also… your photography is amazing!
-Mike Lang
Bill loves the piano, and he renews his love with every concert he gives. And guess what? The piano loves it. Bill can make any piano sound good. Hear Bill Risby, a seducer of the piano. Wouldn’t you want a lover like that?
-Roland Peelman
I just wanted to meet you and tell you how wonderful your piano playing is. It’s just sublime.
-Dionne Warwick

“YOU, STAND UP! Listen carefully – I want you to know that every other piano player I’ve worked with… is DEAD.”
-Jerry Lewis, pointing at Bill…
You are the real deal…
-Jaakko Kuusisto
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS
Eric Myers: What do you think of being a jazz pianist/composer & bandleader in Australia, and how have you been able to build your career so far?
Bill Risby: Playing the piano is a salve, and composing music is a compulsion, so I know that regardless of whether or not I was going to build a career from music, I would be doing these two things for my entirety. Having said that I was very fortunate to grow up in the time where people were happy to pay for their music in the form of CDs and vinyl records, and whilst I was quite young (around 24 years old) I recorded my first self-funded and produced album of original compositions Stories in 1994, which was met with a small measure of success through the ABC and sales in Japan, and it gave me the opportunity to put money back into making the next CD that I did.

Album cover of the Risby album “Stories”
I was able to repeat this method maybe three or four times before this business model changed and the general public expected to receive (or just consume) music for free. It was no longer possible to invest your time into your art and music and expect a return that you could re-invest into the continuation of your craft. My music career largely consisted of playing on recordings as a session musician, in the form of albums, films and advertisements. These three income streams have diminished exponentially in the last five to ten years to the point where they are almost hobbies. Fortunately for me my musical interests are very broad and subsequently extend well beyond jazz, and I was also playing live gigs with many popular artists of the time in all genres of music (and still do). I understand that there are many jazz musicians that would consider this sacrilege and whilst I respect their point of view, I have (almost) only played music that I have wanted to play, and that I love. Live music is one of the last expressions we have that can’t be taken from us by technology. Watching a group of people create music in front of you is a special kind of alchemy or dark art that will always captivate.

How do your experiences in Australia compare to your experiences elsewhere?
There are music scenes and music lovers the world over, but how they differ is based on the cultural depth and acceptance of music (and art) in these various places, which leads to vastly different experiences as a performer. Firstly Australia… I must start by saying that I love the people who come out to gigs to hear us play here. Their individual love for music and transcendence equals that of anyone I’ve played for anywhere in the world. They are often effusive with praise and many have become personal friends. To counteract this warm experience I will often have one or more tables of people who will come to a music venue (often after having paid for a ticket), and use the event as a (loud) social gathering and a “catch up” with a total disregard for those surrounding them, whose sole intent was to enjoy an evening concert of fine music. I have not had this experience in other countries – not to say it doesn’t exist, but it is rare. Even in large theatres here members of the audience seem to have no hesitation in calling out requests to the performers. I had a diametrically opposite experience in Norway mentioned below… I’ve also had venues insist on leaving TV screens on during a performance so the audience (in this case the ‘punters’) can continue to watch sports whilst we play. Sometimes these screens are above our heads. I think sports culture is great and can coexist with art, but there needs to be a delineation between them – either physically via separate rooms, or with the clock, eg after 6pm all screens in this part of the venue are switched off, and a live concert will begin in an hour. My experiences from overseas greatly differ from here, but only slightly from each other – just two examples:
Japan has the utmost respect for music and musicians, and all the concerts I’ve played there were in almost total silence until the last note of each piece faded into the ether. Only then was their appreciation made well-known by lengthy and raucous applause. There are also very small and intimate concerts in Japan that often start very late at night, and again people will sit in silence until the last note has disappeared, before showing their appreciation. Many people stay till after their last train of the evening has stopped running, and will therefore go home at sunrise when the first new train of the day starts again. Culturally speaking, Japan is a country with a history of art (and craft), and a deep respect for people who make things with their hands. Musicians are regarded as people who have chosen a highly valuable path in life, and are greatly respected for it. The same applies in Germany, particularly with classical musicians, and much of Europe. Conversely the most common question I’ve been asked when mentioning in Australia that I’m a musician is, “What’s your proper job?” or words to that effect. It’s not really a culturally viable option to be just a musician here.

I was fortunate enough to play in Norway where my gigs were partly funded by a Norwegian government grant that considered having an Australian jazz musician perform in Oslo as a culturally beneficial gift to their jazz community. At one of these gigs at a club called Herr Nilsen I was playing a solo piano gig, and I started playing jazz standards. After about 15 minutes of playing and to my extreme delight, somebody yelled out “Play something we don’t know!” I was of course flabbergasted that an audience came out in the -14˚ cold to be challenged by music rather than to be coddled into a false sense of security by songs they could sing along to. It of course spurred me on to challenge myself musically, both on that evening where I continued playing only original music, and also into the future, where I continue to write original music that people “don’t know” yet.
Have you found that the various forms of social media have been helpful in advancing your career? If so, in what ways have they been helpful?
During the Covid era I used Instagram to play one piece of music a day in lieu of being able to play live gigs in person. It was better than nothing, and it gave me some focus, but generally speaking I have scorned the use of social media as a career tool. Much like slogans from the “Ministry of Truth” in George Orwell’s book 1984: “War is peace, Freedom is slavery, Ignorance is strength”. I would add to that, social media is ANTI-social. It is a poor proxy for people actually meeting in person, physically looking someone in the face, and physical touch. People on social media are not present. Their concerns are elsewhere – with other people who are not here – and mostly with people they have never met before. They will talk to people on their phone whilst you are talking to them and pretend it’s important. The average young 17-year-old spends 5.8 hours a day on their device. That equates to about 20 YEARS of their life. I don’t think most people on their deathbed would say “I wish I spent more time on my phone…” As a bulletin board it is an adequate way to inform people of an upcoming gig, but only to people who are on social media, and as the social media formula is short form and dopamine hit based, and the music most jazz musicians play isn’t, an “Ad” for a gig is misleading, and many who come because of a social media ad will most likely not have the attention span to deal with the music. This problem with current attention spans is the final nail in the coffin for live music. I think attendance at gigs is diminished because a gig can’t compete (adrenaline wise) with a ten-second clip of a fast guitar lick or a scantily clad girl playing something impossible on their instrument of choice. I’ve found that those who love music, and my music in particular, will come regardless of how many posts I put up or whether it’s on social media, and they will let themselves become immersed in the experience.

What is the main thing that nourishes your music?
If I take the question to mean ‘what inspires my music’, I read every day, and have for around 40 years. I am inspired by literature, and many of my pieces are named after books, or characters in books. For example on Stories, the track When Photogen Met Nycteris is from the book The History of Photogen and Nycteris, while the track Paper Plains was derived from my seeing paper and books laid out on my dining room table at 2 am whilst writing music. Interestingly I find it very difficult writing music with a theme of joy or happiness, but the opposite feelings flow naturally. Travel has become a newer inspiration, and I’ve always been inspired by people I know. Many pieces are called “Song for …..” (insert the person’s name). Other song titles are All Heart for my wife Natalie, My Liege for the bassist in my trio Gary Holgate, and Frogner Park, after the park in Oslo of the same name where I would sit on the grass with friends and cook a BBQ.
List three things you would introduce to Australia to improve or enhance the music scene here.
a/ A portion of government grants and funding should go to venues, guaranteeing them a no-risk opportunity to support music as art rather than have to employ cover bands (amongst other measures) to make ends meet. A very prominent venue owner and friend of mine here in Australia had his overheads increase to the point of absurdity until he could no longer keep his venue open. Once upon a time he had different types of jazz every night he was open, and over time he had to add more popular music until he was down to one or two nights a week of music he wanted to give a platform to, and the rest was simply to pay bills. This became unsustainable, and inevitably led to closure. A venue owner should not have to risk losing their home to support good music, and it is governments that should fund art for the betterment of society – for the same reasons they buy paintings such as Jackson Pollock’s Blue Poles for $1.3 million (now officially valued at over $536 million AUD).

b/ (Most) music should be acoustic. We need to encourage venues to use no, or minimal, amplification, and design venues in such a way that the music is central, and the expectation is to be quiet whilst the music is being performed. My reasons for this are that with amplified music there is no distinguishable difference between listening to music on your HiFi at home and listening to a band through speakers at a venue. They both come through a cardboard speaker cone. BUT, live music has the potential for the listener to hear sound coming out of the vibrating wood from all of a double bass, an entire piano resonating in sympathy with the room it’s sitting in (and the people), and the surprise of a cymbal being hit in full force… This is a collective experience that can’t be duplicated any other way, and it’s a shared experience that brings people closer together. The venues that have done this (eg Church St Studios) have become overwhelmingly popular for these reasons.
c/ All music students should be admitted to music venues for free. They are learning and often have little money, (and often spend what they have on drinks, thereby supporting the venue). This starts a culture of watching live music as a social practice. Students should be compelled as part of their education to listen to music – particularly those they are learning from – with an exemption for when they are doing a gig themselves.
d/ My fourth thing (out of my list of three), is to switch phones OFF. You’re either present at the venue, or don’t come at all.

What projects are you working on at the moment?
I have a studio at home so I have a tendency to record one song at a time rather than have a clear goal of an “album”. Albums don’t exist in the same form as they used to, where someone would sit in one spot and listen continuously for 40 mins to an hour to a continuous stream of thought. Consequently I release individual songs fairly regularly, and in many different genres. Having said that, I’m currently finishing off a collection of songs with lyrics, and I am aiming for a one-hour album of music where I actually manufacture a short run of CDs again – perhaps eight songs in total. I am revisiting the album Falling which I recorded in 2000 with Dieter Kleemann, Andrew Gander, Phil Scorgie, and Victor Rounds where I’ll be doing a series of gigs later this year playing music from this album with Andy, and my son Lalo Risby – a fantastic young bass player. Joining us also will be Andy’s guitarist Peter Koopman. I have written some Brazilian (style) music and the wonderful singer/guitarist & songwriter Gabriela Soares has written Portuguese lyrics to some new songs, and some of my older songs which I plan to record soon. One of these pieces is already out as an instrumental called Constant Rain.
Would you like to share with us your best and worst musical memory?
I’d have to say the best musical memory I have is the first time I heard Keith Jarrett’s trio, and trying to come to terms with the fact that they were improvising not just the notes in their solos, but the arrangements, the introductions, the endings – and they were using silence as their backdrop, and letting the music determine what needed to be played first, and next. It was and is a profound thing. My worst musical memories are the ones where the opposite to the above happens, and unfortunately I’m the one playing the piano! I try and put a great deal of preparation into every musical thing I do, but sadly this is often compromised. Sometimes a venue has poker machines as background noise, everyone is reading music, and they all have a different version/chart of the same song, and no one is listening to each other, and ZERO music is made. No amount of money will ever compensate for the depression I feel after one of these gigs.

Can you describe your most serious challenges and how you surmount them?
As with many things in life, my most serious challenges are in my head, and are many. Imposter syndrome is rampant, as is self-talk – mostly of the negative kind. Another huge challenge is finding the will to continue to play despite the struggle for meaning in the task. Some examples in thinking which better describe this dilemma are:
Practice? Why practice? At the last gig only eight people came. Why should I dedicate weeks to write out two sets of music to have almost no one listen to it? Why should I pay for a rehearsal room to not make enough money to even pay for the room, let alone the musicians for the gig? If I’ve dedicated my life to doing this and the result after 40 years is that only eight people will come to a gig of my own music, then have I wasted my life? Is that because the music actually isn’t any good? Am I an imposter? Shouldn’t I have spent more time with my family?
Overcoming these mental challenges must also have a mental solution, and even though it’s still a daily struggle, the only tool I have that sometimes works is to only focus on the present moment, in every moment. It has to be real focus and not fleeting, and it involves being completely present in the moment. It can’t be listening to yourself through someone else’s opinion, or through yours or someone else’s ‘feed’. There are no thoughts of “Gee, there’s hardly anyone here! Did I not advertise this adequately? Why am I doing this?”, but rather there has to be an acceptance and an acknowledgement of my task, and the band’s collective task, and once the song has been counted in, ALL that matters is that you are a part of creating something that is greater than the sum of its parts. You can only do that by not thinking of anything else – as though you’re on a great album, but you’re making the album in real time in front of people. If you create something that is greater than the sum of its parts thereby delivering something that wasn’t there beforehand, you have added to the world, and therefore you have meaning. You also have a purpose, if you continue to do the same.
I have had serious problems with my hearing which has involved numerous ear operations. Whilst my ears are now stable, the quality of my hearing has been severely compromised to the point that nothing sounds good anymore. This has been a motivation killer for me, both in listening, playing and practicing music. There is little I can do for it except to focus on positive things.
If you could wave a magic wand over the music community, what would you wish for?
There are two main things I wish for. One is that music should be intergenerational. The great NZ pianist Mike Nock has always done this well, and that is to have musicians of all ages and generations in his various bands over the years. The other is that I think learning and listening to music should be compulsory at pre-school and primary school – and earlier if possible, with dedicated music teachers. Also music should be played by real instruments, not computers or machines. Children find meaning and ecstatic joy in music and they often want to emulate someone when they see them playing an instrument. The act of collectively playing a piece of music by just doing your small part well, is one of the most valuable lessons anyone can learn as a metaphor for all aspects of life. Sport also can do this but usually with only a binary outcome (win or lose), whereas music is a joy to all participants.

If you weren’t a jazz pianist/composer/bandleader what would you do?
I am a dedicated photographer and am interested in the part of it that tells a story that words can’t (similar to music I suppose). I’m also interested in philosophy and psychology so I may have pursued that avenue.
Who or what are you listening to at the moment?
Lately I’ve been listening to Chick Corea, Ralph Towner, Yamandu Costa, Shai Maestro, Trio Curupira, Salomão Soares, Ivan Lins, Edgar Meyer, Keith Jarrett, Pat Metheny, Will Ackerman, George Benson, Aaron Parks, Kurt Rosenwinkel, Trilok Gurtu, Alan Pasqua, Peter Erskine, Akiko Yano, and many more, but these are regulars.
What are your other interests outside music?
My interests have changed as I’ve aged, but some of them are: reading, cycling, photography, rock climbing, travelling, watches, Hi-Fi, fast cars…
VIEW & LISTEN
Bill Risby, solo piano, Joni Mitchell’s “Both Sides Now”
https://youtu.be/BVxI1DKoufo?si=tDMlBCXvxn9-ty8s
Bill Risby (piano) with Darren Percival (vocal), Alicia Keys’ “No One”
https://youtu.be/EnSswM0D1NI?si=mOTvH-ZJ-Vt1dymu
Bill Risby (electric piano) “Letting Go” with Keith Carlock (drums)
https://youtu.be/cJfF4LY9we8?si=UIO6v5Q2tmllMPeC
Bill Risby (piano), Keith Jarrett’s “Country”
https://youtu.be/qh1CMZ0zhw8?si=OCZ7mRH-T5Ofg45x
INTERVIEWER

Eric Myers was the inaugural jazz critic for the Sydney Morning Herald, 1980-1982, and jazz critic with The Australian newspaper, 1983-1987. He was publisher & editor of the Australian Jazz Magazine 1981-1986, and a government-funded Jazz Co-ordinator from 1983-2002. He returned to writing on jazz for The Australian in 2015. He has a website dedicated to documenting Australian jazz history at this link www.ericmyersjazz.com