- We went to Chicago and I was on "Oprah" when I was eight years old.

But like the only thing that mattered to me was my dad because he used to practice with me.

He would sit in my lessons.

Honestly don't know if I would want to be anything else.

Because I get to play music.

- How old were you when you discovered you had perfect pitch?

- I was about three.

My dad, who was always looking for like the best deal on anything, made me a violin.

- Wow.

- Out of a cracker jack box and a ruler.

And I would just like walk around following him around all day long singing Paul Simon's "Graceland."

And like "You Can Call Me Al" all day long until he finally got me something called Suzuki lessons.

And that's how I started.

- Did you draw as a child?

- Yeah, like on the walls of the house.

- [Mo] Yes, great.

- All the time.

Which my dad really loved.

Years later, my parents got me a poster of someone who I'm sure you'll know, Pablo de Sarasate.

The violinist.

That was supposed to be funny, sorry.

- I really was like, I had this moment of like, should I pretend to know?

And for a moment also I was like, is that like a standup from the '80s that I've never heard of?

- From the 1880s, yeah.

- Okay.

- He was a violinist, Spanish virtuoso.

He was called like the Spanish Paganini.

- And this was the poster you were gonna have on your wall?

- So this was a poster that my parents bought to put on my wall.

- Uh-huh.

- I used to get so bored when I practiced.

Like one of the things I did is that I hid novels behind my music stand so that I could just read books while practicing like my Mendelssohn or Beethoven violin concerto.

But then there was this poster of Pablo de Sarasate, and so I just sort of like started tracing it.

And so that was like the first piece of art that I think I made, but my parents couldn't see it 'cause it was kind of like "Shawshank Redemption" a little bit, that there was this poster and I was like tunneling my way out of the wall of my childhood practice room.

This is therapy, right?

- Yeah.

- This is what we're doing here.

You never know where art is gonna find you.

It starts to become really interesting like what you call art.

Like what is art actually?

- It still feels funny to say standups in art form 'cause sometimes you're truly just like telling a fart joke on stage and you're like, this is art.

- Like what is it that makes a fart joke hard to actually deliver?

- You know, it actually is very hard because I think people would consider all fart jokes to be potty humor and they'd write them off, but genuinely if you had a good enough one, people would respect it.

If you were to guess what I played in a band.

- Is it really weird to say flute?

- I wish I were flute girl.

In the same way I wish I were a horse girl.

- Aha, oh, okay.

- They do seem related.

- They do seem related.

So what did you play?

Hold on.

- Trumpet.

- [Vijay] Oh, that was gonna be my next guess.

- Yeah.

- I wish I had known that before I started doing what I'm doing on this page right now.

- Your dad very quickly became your manager.

And then tell me about the letters that were written to Oprah and Letterman.

- So he started to write to famous people as me and Oprah wrote back.

The team from Harpo Productions was like, "We're gonna do a segment and then you're gonna come to Chicago and be on the show."

And so then we went to Chicago and I was on "Oprah" when I was eight years old.

And then my first paid gig was actually playing the 1995 Billboard Awards with Coolio and Stevie Wonder playing the violin part of "Gangsta's Paradise" when I was eight.

But like the only thing that mattered to me was my dad because he used to practice with me.

He would sit in my lessons.

My nickname in Bengali is Potka and Potka means like firecracker because I once at one point set one of that rooms in our house on fire.

He said, "No, Potka, you have to move because people want to see you have fun.

This isn't Mozart."

And then he'd pull me out of bed and have me watch specials of Julio Iglesias and Harry Belafonte.

He wanted me to be an entertainer.

- Mm-hmm.

- It wasn't always fun.

There were times that he could be terrifying.

But at the same time, you know, I think what I think about now is all of those times that my dad was out there in those halls and he wanted me to, you know, be good enough and be enough, it was actually about him being enough.

- Uh-huh.

- And so I think now to myself like, man, what a loving thing I did as a kid for that dad.

- Is there anything else you could imagine doing?

- I grew up in an immigrant family.

Like I think like a lot of immigrant families, my parents sacrificed everything so that my brother and I could have what they didn't have.

- Right.

- And at the same time with that sacrifice comes an equal sacrifice, which is like they sacrificed their lives for us, we sacrifice our childhoods for them.

I don't know.

I don't know who I would be if I wasn't a musician.

I also honestly don't know if I would want to be anything else.

Because I get to play music.

- Yeah.

- I love it.

I love Schumann and Beethoven and Bach and Brahms and Mozart and all of them.

I can't get enough.

But I actually think that we should start thinking about art as a verb.

Like it's the intention of connection.

It's the intention of expression.

- Music to me feels like the ultimate.

Like that feels like number one because it can also, you know, bring you back to a place quicker than anything.

- [Vijay] Right.

- Me listening to a song and- - Like a memory.

- Be back in a relationship.

Yeah.

And I don't really have that with the other, I mean, a little bit with some art forms, but- - I feel like standup actually might be one of the most brave and pure art forms.

You get immediate feedback unvarnished from your audience.

And that's also like the point.

How do you think about writing and curating and what kind of feedback are you looking for?

- I like to believe that I'm just trying to be like the smartest, funniest version of myself on stage each time.

Not in a way where I feel like I'm on a pedestal.

It's like you read my mind.

Then you just feel less alone and you're like, "Okay, well, you're having these thoughts too.

It's not just me."

- It actually feels like maybe one of the best things I could do for my art is to go out and just absolutely bomb.

- Yeah.

- In front of an audience.

It's like actually that's where I've learned the most things.

But the transaction of what we call classical music is that the audience sits there and applauds because they've paid to have that experience.

- Tell us the origin story behind Street Symphony.

- So when I was living here in LA, you know, I was 19.

I couldn't even like drive a car.

And my dad started to teach me how to drive.

And ended up driving down San Pedro Street.

And San Pedro Street like starts with Little Tokyo.

And then like as it changes, you start seeing like tents and tarps and people sleeping on the street and you're like, "Wait, what's going on here?"

And I don't know why necessarily I felt this, but in that moment I was like, oh, I think I've been looking for this place.

This is where I have to make music.

Like I got to figure out a way to come back here.

And so I started like cold calling shelters and clinics being like, "Hey, I want to come bring my Philharmonic colleagues to come play for you."

And they're like, "This is a prank phone call, right?"

Like no one likes that kind of music.

But eventually a bunch of social workers started to let me come in.

I went with my LA Phil colleagues and like we went like dressed in concert black and patent leather shoes and super serious.

And meanwhile we're playing in this like basement conference room and like the first row of the audience is like three feet away from me.

- Right.

- Six seconds into the play and this woman in the front row like punches her hand in the air and it's like six inches from my face and I like recoil.

And then at the end of the concert, she like bursts out of her chair and she's like, "How did you know?

Like this music is my story."

And they said like that's the first time they ever heard her speak.

And that she had been coming to the clinic for years.

And so that was the beginning of, you know, this nonprofit.

I started a nonprofit called Street Symphony.

And you know, at first I though I was going in to like save these people and help these people and be a magnanimous, you know, outreacher.

And what really happened was I found the broken parts of myself.

And there were people in those broken places who saw me more honestly and more lovingly than I was ever willing to see myself.

- I love that you brought your violin with you too.

- I did.

I'm happy to play something.

- What is the piece of music that everyone should be required to hear once?

- So I think I should play Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah."

- I would love that.

Wow, that was incredible.

Okay.

We're gonna do the big reveal.

So why don't you come over to me and I'll show you mine, which is a comic.

And I tried to do your exact- - Yes, yes!

I love it.

Oh my god, I love this.

I want this in my studio.

- This is yours.

Yeah, this is yours to keep.

Okay, ready for me?

- Ready.

- Okay.

- So this is- - Wait, this is amazing.

- [Vijay] This is a QR code to your IMDB page.

- Oh my, to my IMDB page.

- To your IMDB page.

That I have drawn from memory.

But also, it's the- - Wait, how did you do that?

This is art.

This is art.