Jorge Romero: A Life of Music from Argentina to Ball State to Paris

By Kate Elliott

Jorge Romero, MM '95, lives and breathes music. The pianist and composer practices piano about six hours a day-closer to eight when preparing for a concert. On Wednesdays, when he teaches piano from 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. at a conservatory in the western suburbs of Paris, he pares back to "only two to three hours."

"I live to play piano," said Mr. Romero, who began playing piano at the age of 11 and composing in high school. "It's a language that needs no words, and yet it can move people to feel all sorts of emotions. I love when I can help people feel."

A Ball State Connection

Born and raised in Argentina, Mr. Romero came to the United States in 1993 as a Fulbright scholar to study music performance at Ball State University. He graduated two years later with a Master of Music and performed his first composition, Quintet for Winds (1995), at Pruis Hall.

"I have many fond memories of Ball State," he said. "My roommate at Scheidler Apartments and I were known as good cooks. Our neighbors and friends would always show up and say, 'What's for dinner?' and we would have a big crowd almost every night. People were so nice, and I learned so much."

After graduating, he returned to Argentina to teach. "My piano teacher retired, and I assumed her job. She went to Ball State, so it was fun to have that connection," he added, speaking of his beloved teacher, Yolanda Paganelli, who earned a doctorate in piano performance at Ball State.

Teaching That Transforms

His passion for piano fuels his joy for teaching. "It is equally rewarding to see that love come alive in others. To help them explore their emotions and connect with others through music is a gift," he said.

Over the years, Mr. Romero has worked with students of all ages and abilities-"from 6 to those in their 80s." Many students with disabilities have sought him out because he finds ways to adapt lessons.

One of his students in Argentina was blind but determined to learn piano. Together, they developed a system for her to read braille with one hand while playing with the other, eventually combining the two patterns to play from memory.

"The body craves music and expression," he said. "Teaching has taught me how much is possible through music and how deeply it can connect and inspire people."

Another student with Parkinson's disease now plays piano as a form of therapy. "We never know what his hands are going to do on any given day, so we take it as it comes and work around those challenges," Mr. Romero explained.

A Life in Paris

In 2011, Mr. Romero was invited to study in Paris, where he met his wife, Audrey, a professor of French Renaissance literature at Université de Picardie Jules Verne. Today, they live in southern Paris, where his piano is the centerpiece of their first-floor apartment.

"Musicians in Paris struggle to find places to practice that won't disturb the neighbors," he said. "Here, I haven't had a problem, and people have even said they have missed me or thought I was sick or something when they don't hear me play."

At their previous apartment, patients at a doctor's office across the street would often sit outside and listen as he practiced. "The doctor said he liked that I played, and his patients had come to expect it," Mr. Romero recalled.

Music Without Borders

Whether performing across the world or practicing at home, Mr. Romero describes music as his most natural form of expression.

"I am a reserved man, but music allows me to get the feelings I have inside of me out to connect with others, and many feelings happen when I play," he said. "Sometimes words are not enough, and music is imagination through sound. Making music makes you feel alive."

Mr. Romero often performs works by Argentine composers such as Alberto Ginastera, Italian music in honor of his grandparents, and French music for his adopted country. He speaks four languages and credits music with supporting his fluency.

"I can't explain why I love music as much as I do, while others try it and stop. It is my air, and I felt a future in it as soon as I began my instruction," he said. "But I understand it is not for everyone, and it takes a good teacher about 10 seconds to know you haven't practiced, so don't try to cheat. If they don't practice, though, I say 'OK,' but let's play now. Making people feel bad is no encouragement to learn."