Of course, I prepare. To me, not preparing would be a lack of respect. But the most important part of an interview isn’t the preparation, it is about being fully present the moment the conversation begins.
I don’t just listen to the words spoken; I listen to what remains unsaid. I pay attention to tone, rhythm, body language, and the emotions hidden within a sentence. I hold back judgment, giving space for answers to unfold, and this not only for me, but for those following the conversation. My role is to shine a light on the person I’m interviewing, allowing the audience to form their own perspectives.
That doesn’t mean I disappear. My interviews are shaped by my questions, and that are the ones that I believe matter, the ones that stray from the expected. If you're looking for a standard interview, I’m not your person. Others excel at following the script; I excel at shifting focus, exploring the edges where few dare to go. I’m equally at ease speaking with strangers as I am with those I know well. I even like to explore the corners of circles. Does that sound impossible to you ? Maybe. But that’s where the real stories live.
And what if time is tight? What if the questions are shared in advance? Can the conversation still feel authentic, fluent, and honest?
Absolutely. I believe my style makes that possible. It’s not about sticking to a script, it’s about how I digest what’s being said and where I take the conversation from there. Some guests prefer to see the questions beforehand; others choose to be surprised. Either way, I adapt. The best interviews happen when people feel at ease, and my job is to create that space, in whatever way suits them best.
An interview isn’t about me. And yet, when I’m the one asking the questions, the outcome will always be uniquely mine.
Contradictory? I don’t think so. It’s a delicate balance I always try to find, just enough of me to bring depth, just enough of the guest to make it their own. And somewhere in that space, the magic of a great conversation happens
