You’ve been called a piano prodigy. To what do you attribute this “genius”? What path brought you to this title?

When I was very young, I began pursuing my dream of becoming a pianist by studying at the conservatory. Over time, I realized that thinking about my career too much was mentally limiting. Eventually, I understood that I shouldn’t dwell on dreams—I just had to work. And most importantly, I had to stay committed to the work.

Classical music requires full devotion. There can’t be any other thoughts in your head—you must live in the music and take joy in it.

In the beginning, I was preoccupied with competitions—thinking about how to outperform this or that pianist, or imagining myself on certain stages.

But gradually, as a student, I realized I had to stop thinking so much and let things happen naturally. That was the secret to my success.

Which teachers were most influential on this path? Who was your most important mentor?

I was fortunate to have several teachers throughout my musical journey. But if I had to name the one who made the biggest impact on my artistic life, it would be Alexander Gourgenov.

He was more than just a piano teacher—he changed my worldview.

To connect this with your first question: Gourgenov helped me focus entirely on music. He taught me to immerse myself fully. First, he changed me as a person—and only then did my playing begin to change.

You began learning piano at age six. How did that choice come about?

What I remember is starting formal piano lessons at six. But according to my family, even at age three, I would try to replicate melodies I heard on my mother’s piano.

By age six, it was already clear to me and to my family that I was going to be a pianist.

Given that you studied at the Komitas Conservatory, how important has academic training been to your artistic growth?

I believe academic training is essential—not only for pianists, but for all musicians: composers, violinists, performers of any instrument.

Academic study is vital because it develops you as a complete musician.

Of course, education isn’t the most important factor in success. The most important thing is the person themselves—who is stepping into this path, and why.

In every workshop I teach, young students ask me, “Is academic study really necessary for success in music?”

My answer is yes—but only if you are the kind of person who feels that need and understands its importance.

You’ve received numerous awards for your contributions to contemporary music. What led you to take such a prominent role in this field?

Everyone needs someone in their life who sees their work and helps shape it. For me, that person was Alexander Gourgenov. Even back in school, I used to compose music. When I entered the conservatory, I kept composing, and I was deeply curious about what other composers were doing.

That curiosity was obvious, and Gourgenov noticed it. He told me, “You clearly have a strong interest in contemporary and modern music—you research it constantly. So why not take part in competitions in this field?”

That’s how it started. I entered those competitions, and they changed my life. One of them took place in Rome, and I won an award there. That was the moment I realized: this is the path I should be on.

I consider myself a contemporary musician—especially as a performer—and I’m drawn to works written in our own time. In that sense, 21st-century music is a part of me.

Tell us about your collaboration with the Naxos Grand Piano label. How has this partnership contributed to the success of your albums?

Let me slightly rephrase your question: What role has this label played in bringing Armenian classical music to wider audiences?

Because yes, of course it has helped me personally—my albums are now available in major music stores around the world. I’ve been fortunate to see my recordings sold in places like Argentina and beyond.

But what matters more to me is the opportunity to promote Armenian music through these international labels.

We started with a full album of piano works by Arno Babajanian, which I performed and released through one of the leading classical music publishers. That was a major milestone for me as an Armenian artist.

From there, we expanded to include piano works by other Armenian composers—Alexander Arutiunian, Babajanian, Edvard Mirzoyan, and more.

Later, in our third album, we decided to spotlight female Armenian composers, such as Geghuni Chitchian and Gayane Chebotarian.

This journey has become both an artistic mission and a cultural responsibility.

A significant part of your professional life is devoted to giving masterclasses around the world. What inspired you to step into teaching?

After graduating from the Komitas Conservatory, I became the assistant to my teacher, Alexander Gourgenov. That’s when I discovered how much I enjoy teaching—it’s truly one of my passions.

That said, my top priority has always been performance. I consider myself first and foremost a pianist. This is why, for a long time, I put teaching aside.

But over time, I received many invitations to give masterclasses. Since a regular teaching schedule is difficult due to my concert commitments, I decided on a different approach:

Wherever I go to perform, I also give a masterclass in that city or country.

For example, in 2017, when I toured several cities in Iran, I also held masterclasses for music students alongside my concerts. It’s a way for me to share what I’ve learned, without stepping away from performing.

You’re participating in the 39th Fajr Music Festival. Were you already familiar with this event before joining?

Of course I was familiar with it. I’ve always been drawn to festivals that have a clear identity and specific artistic focus. When a festival stands out in that way, it naturally attracts my interest.

I had a colleague who had previously performed at the Fajr Music Festival, and we recently met and spoke about it. So I already had a sense of what the festival was like.

But this time, there’s something different—because this year, I’m part of it. That makes it a new and meaningful experience for me.

Considering the cultural similarities between Iran and Armenia, how do you see the similarities and differences in the music of these two countries?

It’s quite easy to speak of similarities—the harder part is pointing out the differences.

When it comes to similarities, I’d say they come from our shared heritage.

Just yesterday, while walking in Tehran, I suddenly heard a familiar sound being played on a local string instrument. I stopped to listen. As I got closer, I realized it was a small shop selling books and handicrafts.

I couldn’t quite tell whether the music was a piece by Sayat-Nova—the famous Armenian troubadour—or a traditional Iranian melody. I stood there, frozen. The sound was so pure and beautiful that I simply couldn’t move.

You can find similar moments in the music of Komitas as well. Komitas didn’t limit himself strictly to Armenian material—he was deeply invested in regional folk traditions.

Now, when it comes to differences, I’d say the divergence began in the 20th century.

Komitas laid the foundations of Armenian classical music, creating a system that evolved through the 20th century and eventually led to Armenian avant-garde music.

In contrast, Iranian music remained much more closely connected to its folk traditions. Even contemporary composers such as Fozieh Majd—whose works I have performed—tend to draw heavily on Iranian folk music rather than creating something that’s distinctly individual in a compositional sense.

That’s not a criticism, of course—it’s neither good nor bad. It’s just a difference worth noting.