Technology has pushed musical advances in the past half of a decade from the electric guitar in rock to sampling in hip-hop and more or less everything about EDM. Jazz is no exception, even as the mainstream view of the genre is that it emphasizes acoustic instruments, live performance and free-form improvisation. Algorithmic composition traces back to the 1950s and composer Lejaren Hiller, who founded the Experimental Music Studios at the University of Illinois at Urbana–Champaign and collaborated with John Cage. In the 1970s and '80s, trombonist and composer George Lewis pioneered improvisational AI, including his program Voyager, which jams with collaborators as well as on its own. Jazz guitarist Pat Metheny's Orchestrion, from 2010, involves an entire band of self-playing instruments. In contrast, Tepfer is always in control of his music. The Disklavier has no agency of its own, no artificial creativity. Though Tepfer may experiment with neural networks in the future, for now he is more interested in the human inspiration that technology can trigger.

The idea is not to use technology as a substitute for his own creativity but as a catalyst. Tepfer wants his algorithms to stimulate new thoughts, shock his system, expand his conception of how the piano can sound.

Your browser does not support the audio element One of Tepfer's improvisations

He started experimenting with the Disklavier four years ago and now ends up trying to recreate its style in solo concerts with an acoustic piano. "Those sounds are in my ears now, and I find myself actually reaching for those sounds that the computer would be creating," he says. "That's really what I look for in a situation where I'm using new technology. It's in artistic results, a window opening up at the artistic level."

When combining music and technology, the essential question Tepfer always asks himself is: Am I enabling music that couldn't have been created any other way?

He is conscious that he doesn't want his programs to be a gimmick or to simply automate the same music he could play without a machine. He wants his music to have "integrity."

"What is technology on its own, from an artistic perspective? I don't think it's anything."

"What is technology on its own, from an artistic perspective? I don't think it's anything," he says.

"Technology has to be at the service of this artistic impulse. And artistic impulse -- at the end of the day, you have to spend a lot of time alone figuring out what it is you want to say," he says.

Part of his solution is that the more he innovates with new forms, the deeper he digs into musical theory and history. "If you look at a tree, the higher it reaches up, the deeper its roots have to go to support that," Tepfer says.

It is the classic artist's tension, provoked by the host of creative technology at his disposal today: To steep himself in the knowledge of his forebears without getting stuck in tradition; to dive into the innovations of his time without privileging style over substance. The tension is one Tepfer may be well positioned to solve as a musician and technologist. Reconciling different worlds seems to be one of his assets.