By the dawn of the 1990s, Yanni had a problem. A glorious, stadium-sized problem.
Yanni framed that letter.
But Yanni himself felt a quiet tug. A whisper beneath the roar. yanni in my time album
And so, in 1993, In My Time was born. The making of the album was an act of radical restraint. Yanni would enter the studio at midnight, when Los Angeles finally fell silent. He lit a single lamp. He sat at a nine-foot Steinway concert grand. There were no click tracks, no computers, no edits. By the dawn of the 1990s, Yanni had a problem
He sat alone in his home studio in the hills above Los Angeles, staring at the vast banks of synthesizers and mixing boards. He was tired of the voltage. He missed the instrument he had played as a boy in Kalamata, Greece—the acoustic piano. Not the amplified, processed, digitally perfected piano, but the raw, breathing, wooden one. But Yanni himself felt a quiet tug
In My Time went platinum—multi-platinum. It became the best-selling instrumental piano album of the decade. It was nominated for a Grammy. But Yanni didn’t celebrate with a tour. He couldn’t. How do you tour silence?
He played.