“The Andromeda Strain,” one of the best of Michael Crichton’s novels, described a scientist who “knew everything and was fascinated by everything else.” Such could be said for the pianist Stephen Hough, who has established one of the most intriguing careers in classical music.

Praised for his virtuosity as well as his thoughtful interpretations at the keyboard — “a comprehensively skilled pianist and probing musician with an inquisitive streak,” wrote The New York Times in a 2010 review — he is a respected writer about music, politics and culture, a published poet and a budding novelist. He is a composer — a rarity these days when classical musicians are usually expected to interpret the works of others, at least in public — who dabbles in pop music as well as more classically structured forms.

Hough, who appears at Orvis Auditorium Friday with a program of Debussy, Chopin and Beethoven, is also an artist whose paintings have been exhibited in his native England. In 2001 he was named a MacArthur Foundation Fellow, becoming the first classical musician to receive the so-called “genius grant.”

Hough grew up in England and loved the piano from his earliest years. He won contests starting at age 8, but after a childhood trauma in his preteen years — he was mugged — he temporarily dropped the child prodigy routine, rarely playing challenging material and “watching a lot of TV,” before resurrecting his career. He would go on to win the prestigious Naumberg Competition in 1983, among many other prizes and accolades. His 50-plus albums have won awards like the Deutsche Schallplattenpreis, Diapason d’Or, Monde de la Musique and Gramophone Magazine Awards and been nominated for several Grammys.

On tour in Asia, he answered a few questions via email, excerpted below:

QUESTION: With your extensive writing, you seemingly have taken on an impossible task: using words to describe sounds that impart emotions. Can you discuss the process of writing about a piece as opposed to preparing to perform it?

ANSWER: I think they’re very different processes. Learning and working on a piece always involves the physical (playing the piano is as physical as playing tennis), whereas writing about music is even more abstract than the music itself. In the end, perhaps words have nothing to say about music as such but are a parallel poem alongside it: art form as companion.

Q: You have spoken about how much you loved the sound of the piano as a child, yet there was a period where you didn’t practice very hard — an age when a lot of budding pianists are practicing four to six hours hours a day. You still were able to maintain your technique and musicality. Is there something about the pure physicality of playing the piano that appeals to you?

A: Oh yes. It means there’s always somewhere to begin. A pianist never faces the white page of a writer or the empty staves of a composer. There is material to work with, even if the inspiration level is low. And as the fingers press down the keys, the inspiration comes. I always played the piano during those teenage years, but with little passion and not enough commitment. But the foundations had been laid when I was 6 and 7 years old. In those years I rarely left the piano. The early years are essential in forming a technique for later.

All artistic motivations are poetic. The arts reach beyond the everyday; they take ordinary material and cast spells on it, whether bricks, paint, sounds or words. Fitting everything into my schedule can be frustrating. Just this morning I received the first comments from my editor about my novel, so I have to find the time between rehearsals and concerts and travel (and interviews!) over the next month to do that work. I can work fast when I have to and can focus with an almost violent intensity at times. But there’s a price to pay, and sometimes it all leaves me so drained I can hardly put jam on a croissant.

Q: What do you think of today’s younger generation of pianists? Do you have some advice for someone trying to establish a career in music?

A: I’d have to say I’ve heard some absolutely wonderful young players, and I think this generation sounds more interesting than the one from a couple of decades ago. Planning to have a career as a concert pianist is tough. You should choose music before “career” and study wider than the practice room, and don’t be attracted by any perceived glamour of being onstage.

Q: These days, one can hear dozens of versions of the same piece on YouTube. What do you think of this development?

A: It’s wonderful to hear historical performances, and YouTube is a marvel. It’s good to explore and gain different perspectives — but what I think should be avoided is, when learning a new piece, simply going and listening to 10 performances of it. Make your own first! Live with the composer and the score, struggle with the insides of the piece. Don’t take the shortcut of copying 10 other colleagues’ ideas.

Q: In this concert you compare and contrast Debussy and Chopin and Debussy and Beethoven, but you are doing them in reverse chronological order: Debussy-Chopin, Debussy-Beethoven. What is your intention behind this?

A: I wanted to make a program around Debussy and others, to highlight differences in style and create a contrasting recital. Beethoven is in another world from Debussy in every way, chalk and cheese; but although Chopin is close to Debussy in some ways, this sonata (known popularly as the “Funeral March”) is a huge contrast. It’s not typical of Chopin’s style at times, either pianistic or structural.

Q: You’re playing Beethoven’s “Appassionata” here, one of the most turbulent and emotional of his sonatas, as well as one of the most difficult. How do you stay in the moment for this piece?

A: I don’t really think about how I do this — the same with how I memorize. But there’s a sense of grasping the piece by the horns with this sonata. Also of trying to keep in sight the complete picture, the architectural whole. You can’t just play by the moment and hope for the best. Each turbulent eddy needs to be viewed as part of the ocean.

Q: How did the MacArthur Fellowship change your life?

A: The money enabled me to create a studio where I can work in London, and the encouragement such a grant brought enabled me to launch out and do more. I had written very little music which was worth anything, had not begun to paint, had not even thought I would write a novel in the years before I received the award. But this is very much what the MacArthur is about — not awarding achievement, but seeing and encouraging potential.

Q: Just for fun: You mentioned in an interview that you watched a lot of TV as a teenager, which I am sure aggravates a lot of parents of would-be virtuosos out there. You specifically mentioned “Hawaii Five-O,” which of course would be of big interest here. Do you watch the current show? Is TV purely for relaxation, or does it lend itself to your more “serious” activities?

A: Haha! I don’t think I’ve seen an episode for over 30 years, but I think I will want to watch some reruns after my trip to Hawaii, which is my first and to which I am looking forward immensely. Actually, I never watch TV when I’m traveling and in hotels. When I’m home, sometimes my partner and I will watch a movie or a DVD of a TV series (recently “Broken” with Sean Bean was deeply moving), but I watched enough when I was a teenager to last a lifetime!