Meet Elia D’Andrea, a Geneva-based music therapist who transforms lives through the power of music. With a background in classical guitar and musicology, Elia blends musical expertise with therapeutic insight to help children, adults, and vulnerable populations express, heal, and grow. Multilingual and deeply empathetic, his client-centred approach turns every session into a space for connection, creativity, and emotional well-being.
Elia, tell us a bit about your journey. How did you end up combining music with therapy?
I have always loved music and loved being around people. I’ve studied music all my life, and I have worked with people in all kinds of social settings. Connecting the dots was pretty simple. I just had to get over a certain mistrust of psychology, or what I thought it was.
Was there a moment when you realised music could actually heal, not just entertain?
Once, in my late teens, a little Italian kid asked to play my guitar in a public square on a late summer night. He was seven, and deaf. I looked at him as if to say, “Well… how?” He took my guitar, put it on his lap, and showed me how the vibrations of the wood would reach his belly and body. We played music together that evening. Then came the question: If, through music, I could connect with someone who can’t even hear… what else is possible? I’m still answering that question in every session, one person or group at a time. I don’t know if “healing” is the right word. I’d say that music, within a therapeutic relationship, can change things, improve quality of life, and bring meaning and beauty in the midst of hard times.
Is there an instrument that feels most like you when you play it?
My father’s classical guitar. It’s a very cheap guitar that he bought in Australia in the mid-’70s. That guitar is where I learned to express myself through music as a teenager. My fingers will always recognise it.
How has music shaped who you are, personally or professionally?
Personally, I’m a guy with a guitar (or piano or percussion). Music isn’t all that I am, but I have invested a lot of time in it, I enjoy it, and I share it with joy.
Professionally, music is my primary “tool of connection” with people who are suffering or who might want to invest in a therapeutic relationship for personal development.
Can you remember a song or piece that completely shifted your mood or perspective?
Without exaggerating, I can remember hundreds of them. On the spot, I’d say “Beautiful That Way,” sung by Noa from the movie Life Is Beautiful.
Have there been times when performing or creating music helped you work through something difficult?
It’s been a pretty recurrent experience in my life so far. It started in my youth, when playing kept me out of trouble in a very unsafe environment. Still today, music is a place and a time where I can reconnect and receive words, melodies, and sounds as gifts and messages of hope in the midst of pain and/or uncertainty.
For someone who’s never experienced music therapy, how would you explain what it does?
Music therapy is a different way to explore and discover who you are and/or what might need attention in your life right now. Sometimes, in talking, we can dissimulate, dancing around the issue. But when you express a feeling or a troubling situation on a drum or a string, what comes out is usually raw, more direct, more real. And it resonates in your mind and your body, as much as the echo that the therapist might provide. If what you said through sounds and action is heard, accepted, and received as it is, then you can build meaning and direction from it.
Have you ever noticed someone discovering a side of themselves they didn’t know through music?
All the time. We think we know who we are, but we can live lives of comfortable repetition where surprises are almost impossible. Still, life is constant change, and music can accompany whatever is happening. A little example: one of my clients cannot speak anymore after a stroke and multiple traumas, but he reads a lot and has a way with written words. I challenged him to write songs. He did. I provided melodies and a voice. We played a little concert of seven of his songs in his community. He was on percussion, and I was on guitar and voice. While writing and playing and thinking about it, he was able to work through the grief of personal loss, ageing, and health issues. Therapeutic songwriting is just one of the many tools of music therapy.
If you had to choose one piece of music that captures who you are or what you do, what would it be?
Vienna Concert, Disc 1, Keith Jarrett. All of it. (It’s an improvised concert.)
How has being a music therapist changed the way you listen to music?
As a performer, I cared a lot about music, the quality of the performance, the beauty of the sound, etc. I still do. Becoming a therapist reminded me of the fact that music is made by humans for humans. Music is a great gift, and I’m thankful for it. But life is larger than music. And therefore, when I listen now, I’m leaning over to whoever is playing, composing, or improvising what I’m listening to. The beings behind the sounds.
Any advice for someone who wants to explore their own “inner music” or creative side, even if they’re not a musician?
Go out and search for a place where people are making music. A choir, a jazz club, a festival or a church. Anywhere you feel at home, where the sound is right, where you can picture yourself giving and receiving. It’s all about sharing experiences in playing and making music. Of course, you can learn guitar on YouTube or spend days creating the perfect playlist on Spotify. But for me, music is making sounds for someone who is willing to listen and join in.