A: My parents’ record collection: Simon & Garfunkel, James Taylor, Mozart and Beethoven and Dvořák, 60s Mandarin pop. That’s what I started with and it’ll never leave me. Later on, pianist-songwriters: Elton John, Billy Joel, Tori Amos, Fiona Apple. These days I’m influenced by whoever intimidates me. I hear them, I’m astounded by them, I think daily about quitting music because I’ll never be able to do it as well as they do. Then I try to steal from them without imitating. A tricky thing.
A: Most of the time I say “chamber folk” or “indie pop” or mumble something like “I grew up playing classical piano and lately I’ve been doing a lot of vocal looping.” I’d like the experience of my music to be like a good dinner party, comfort food with a few experiments thrown in, where conversation stretches ’til 2 in the morning and books get pulled off the shelf to take home. Whatever gets you to that place, that’s what I’m going for.
A: Since I was five.
A: No, just one-on-one piano lessons until I was seventeen. Changed my life, though.
A: In the shower and in school choirs when I was younger, but mostly from playing gigs—that was when I finally got the hang of using my voice as an instrument. I took some lessons here and there, which amounted to paying $40-150 a week to be told that I was doing it all wrong. I don’t think we fixed anything. So maybe I haven’t learned to sing, actually.
A: I think I was six when I decided I could cobble my own piano piece together. As for songs that I still play in public, the earliest ones are from high school.
A: A long time. Sometimes months. Occasionally over a year. I don’t revise all that much; it just takes that long for all the pieces to form and assemble. And it seems to get harder as I go, as the self-critic voice gets more insistent.
A: It’s a collaborative process. The other musicians generally compose their own parts as we work through a song in rehearsal—sometimes they’re based on the studio recordings, oftentimes not. The string players tend to use a mix of written score and improvisations. Sometimes my bandmates have cool ideas for my parts, too.
A: My parents are Chinese and grew up in Taiwan. I was born and grew up in California. Rumor has it that I am also Vietnamese, Japanese, Korean, and/or hapa. Rumors are amusing, especially when they get me booked to perform for Korea Day at a university which will remain unnamed.
A: The short answer: they’re supportive, much more so than many immigrant parents would be. Mostly they want to make sure I’m taking care of my health, saving for retirement, and working smart. The long answer is more complex, of course. Arts and entertainment people are kind of an alien species to my folks, but I think they’re getting used to their daughter being one.
A: Wikipedia knows all. And is reasonably accurate, even the  bits.
A: Yes. I got a BS in Computer Science from Stanford, and worked at Cisco Systems for two years as a programmer. These days, all that training mostly manifests itself in overly clever spreadsheet formulas.
A: No. Can’t imagine paying off med school loans and funding an album…
A: Yes. It’s pretty awesome.
A: Yes—according to how I want to have fun with it, rather than how to fashion a paycheck or a sense of self-worth out of it. Every musician has a different kind of marriage with music, and mine seems to thrive on a healthy dose of long distance.
A: Surreal. Pretty much like how it’d be for you if you got called to play on the Late Show. I still think I dreamt the whole thing. Except the studio was very, very cold, and my dreams aren’t often cold.
A: Like anyone, I’d hope that the most recent is always the strongest. I think I’m getting better as I go…
A: Yes, yes it does. Makes me wish I were in a band sometimes.
A: Indeed I do. There’s a live full-band DVD shot in Philadelphia in January 2007, during the Dreaming Through The Noise era, and The Moment Always Vanishing: Vienna Teng & Alex Wong, December 2009 from the Inland Territory days. Of course there’s always the Internet Audio Archive and YouTube for free stuff.
A: There are piano-and-vocal songbooks for Waking Hour, Warm Strangers, and Dreaming Through The Noise now, thanks to hardworking transcriber David Beattie, with Inland Territory on the way.
A: Very rarely. My apologies. It’s not a policy or anything; I’m just not good at staying on top of it. I promise that I do read everything, and that I’m grateful for everything that comes my way (including constructive criticism). Useful information always gets forwarded on to people who can do something with it.
A: Someone else on the contact page might be able to help you.