Timofey Vladimirov was born in 2001 in Ufa. From the age of six, he studied at the Middle Specialized Music College (class of the Honored Worker of Culture of the Republic of Bashkortostan, teacher Tatiana Pogodina). In 2016, he enrolled in the Central Music School at the Moscow State Conservatory named after P.I. Tchaikovsky (class of the Honored Teacher of Russia Mira Marchenko). In 2023, he graduated from the Moscow State Conservatory (piano class of the Honored Artist of Russia, Professor Andrey Pisarev), where he currently serves as an assistant intern in the same teacher's class. In 2017, he won the Grand Prix and a special prize of the National Philharmonic Orchestra of Russia at the II Moscow International Piano Competition of Vladimir Krainev. In 2018, he received the I Prize and a special prize "For Artistry" at the V International Piano Competition "Russian Season in Yekaterinburg." In 2020, he achieved victory (I Prize) and eight special prizes at the XIX International Piano Competition "Piano Campus" in France. He collaborates with leading symphony orchestras in Russia, performs in concerts at the Moscow Philharmonic, and is a participant in the "Stars of the XXI Century" project. He has been a participant in programs at the St. Petersburg House of Music since 2023.

Timofey Vladimirov: My parents are physicists; all our relatives are either physicists or mathematicians. We never had professional musicians in our family. However, both my mom and dad's sides loved music dearly: my grandfather sang very well and knew all the famous operas by heart, my dad played bass guitar in an amateur rock band in his youth and has an extensive collection of rock music CDs, and my mom had a lifelong interest in classical music, collecting recordings and frequently attending concerts. When I was four years old, my parents started enrolling me in various clubs and sections: math, ear training, and piano at the Cultural Palace near our home. My grandmother, who lived on the opposite side of Ufa from us, had an old piano at home. To enable me to take lessons, we regularly traveled across the entire city to her house until she decided to give me the piano as a gift. My grandmother lived on the same street as a good "music school," as she called it. When I turned six, my parents decided to enroll me in this school "for development" (they had a plan, according to which I needed to study in a music school for the first three to four years, then three to four years in a school with a focus on foreign languages, and in the senior classes transition to a physics and mathematics school). They took me to this "music school" in early September, while I was sick, running a fever. I remember playing a few pieces, singing "In the Grass Sits a Cricket" in a hoarse voice, and to the satisfaction of the examiners, guessing all the notes and even complex chords without looking. Here's what happened, which we didn't expect at all: first, it turned out that this was not an ordinary music school but the Middle Specialized Music College at the Ufa State Institute of Arts named after Zagir Ismagilov – one of several specialized music schools in our country where children receive both musical and general education simultaneously. Second, it turned out that I was accepted for training despite the fact that usually, to enter this school, one needs to study for a whole year in a preparatory class and then pass entrance exams in June.

I was incredibly fortunate with my teacher; I ended up in the class of the Honored Worker of Culture of the Republic of Bashkortostan, Tatiana Yuryevna Pogodina, with whom I studied for nine years. Tatiana Yuryevna is a person of remarkable kindness and nobility; she dedicates all her strength and time to her students, not only to their professional but also to their moral upbringing. In addition to the technical foundation (under her guidance, a vast repertoire was mastered), the most important thing she taught us is an exceptionally honest and serious attitude toward the music we perform. She demanded and still demands this from every student. I am immensely grateful to Tatiana Yuryevna; thanks to her high professionalism and dedication to her craft, my passion for music deepened over the years to the point that despite numerous attempts by my parents to withdraw me from this school (according to their initial plan), I responded with a firm protest. After a few years, they resigned themselves to the fact that music would become my profession.

In 2012, I became a scholar of the International Charitable Foundation of Vladimir Spivakov, thanks to which I performed for the first time at the Moscow International House of Music and the St. Petersburg Philharmonic. When Maestro Vladimir Teodorovich visited Ufa with his chamber orchestra "Virtuosos of Moscow" in 2013, I had the opportunity to perform with them. We played Haydn's D-major Concerto.

In 2015 and 2016, at the invitation of the St. Petersburg Music House, I participated in masterclass series with Professor Sergey Yevgenyevich Senkov and Professor Alexander Mikhaylovich Sandler at the "Sirius" Educational Center. These classes played a decisive role in the decision to apply to the Central Music School in Moscow. Since my parents were not yet completely convinced that I should dedicate my life to music, and I was always extremely interested in physics and mathematics, we made the following agreement: if I could enter the Central Music School among the first, study there diligently and intensively, and from the very beginning withstand the high competition of the musical world in the capital, then I would be allowed to continue studying music. Otherwise, I would immediately transfer to the physics and mathematics school and pursue a life in science.

The entrance exams that year were very intense; however, fortunately, I managed to pass them. Once again, I was very lucky with my teacher—Honored Teacher of Russia Mira Alexeevna Marchenko. Since I was already in the tenth grade, with 22 months left until graduation, Mira Alexeevna acted very decisively. A week after the start of classes, our entire class went on tour to Sochi with a new program, each student performing for 40 minutes. We almost constantly toured as a class throughout Russia and abroad. The pace of work was absolutely insane; we had to be ready to learn a piece in one day and immediately perform it on stage in front of a huge audience. During lessons, we had to react lightning-fast to any, even the most complex, comments from Mira Alexeevna. Typically, she didn't repeat a comment, the students who failed to follow would be expelled from the class. I am very grateful to Mira Alexeevna for this school because without the skills acquired in her class, without the ability to work at such a pace, there would be no chance of becoming a performing pianist.

After graduating from the Central Music School in 2018, I entered the Moscow Conservatory named after P. I. Tchaikovsky, where I continue my studies as an assistant-intern in the class of Honored Artist of Russia Andrei Aleksandrovich Pisarev. It is a great joy to learn from such a musician! Thanks to the influence of Andrei Aleksandrovich, I was able to understand for the first time in my life what is most important to me in the performance of music: strict simplicity and naturalness. It may sound quite obvious and even banal, but in reality, it turns out to be not so simple: the path to the highest simplicity, to which Andrei Aleksandrovich calls us, can indeed take a whole lifetime, and on this journey, there will be millions of obstacles. During my conservatory years, I participated in an international competition in France, where I received first prize and many invitations to perform. However, due to the onset of the pandemic, only one of these performances took place—in the church in Auvers-sur-Oise, the same one painted by Van Gogh in the last year of his life.

SPMH: At the age of 15, you became the winner of the Grand Prix and a special prize at the Moscow International Competition of Pianists named after Vladimir Krainev. Was this victory unexpected? What did it give you professionally?

Timofey Vladimirov: In the first year of study at the Central Music School, at the insistence of Mira Alexeevna, who invested a lot of energy in preparation, I participated in three serious international competitions, of which undoubtedly the most important was the Second Moscow International Competition of Pianists named after Vladimir Krainev, where I became the Grand Prix winner. This victory was a complete surprise for me. I remember that during the competition, reaching the final was the limit of my dreams – to perform with the National Philharmonic Orchestra of Russia. When I found myself in the final, where my childhood favorite, Shostakovich's Second Concerto, was being played, I no longer thought about the competition; I was absolutely happy to play this music with such an amazing ensemble. Thanks to the victory in the Krainev competition, I, for the first time in my life, had the opportunity to perform on the best concert stages in our country, tour in many cities, collaborate with outstanding conductors and orchestras, primarily, of course, with the National Philharmonic Orchestra of Russia under the direction of Maestro Vladimir Teodorovich Spivakov. Such opportunities for a young musician are truly invaluable because they allow much more intensive development, learning, and gaining necessary experience.

I maintain a very balanced attitude towards competitions. I understand that, in general, they are, in most cases, a necessary trial for musicians, a unique test of strength, a form of "natural selection." Like everything in the world, they have their pros and cons; it's not worth abusing them. However, if you aspire to become a performing musician, you can hardly avoid participating in them. I try to perceive a competition not as a rivalry with my fellow musicians but as an opportunity to work intensively on a specific program, attempting to achieve the highest possible quality in the performed pieces at the moment. If this is somewhat successful, then the competition result itself takes a back seat. Therefore, I try to participate only in those competitions that require performing pieces that would be interesting for me to work on at the moment. The competitive aspect does not interest me at all; moreover, it strongly repels me. There have been several occasions when I advanced to the next round, but someone else, whose performance left a strong impression on me, did not. In such cases, I felt a strong sense of regret, as if I had been unjustly let through. I think if you approach a competition like a concert, then each of your concert performances should be treated with no less (and even more) responsibility than a competition. Because a concert is a kind of battle (not in vain does the word "concert" mean exactly that) for the listener's perception. You either manage to capture their attention and make them empathize with the performed music, and then, for at least a moment, the person will leave the bounds of everyday grayness and be filled with new thoughts and feelings. The perfection of the structure and harmonic balance of a true work of art contributes to the healing of the psychological wounds of that person. Or you fail to accomplish this. But then, unlike in a competition, where the worst thing that can happen to you is not advancing to the next round, at a concert, everything is much more serious: if you did not cope with your task, it means you wasted the time of everyone who came to listen to you. And this, in my opinion, is a much worse outcome.

SPMH: How significant is your collaboration with the Saint Petersburg Music House to you?

Timofey Vladimirov: The commencement of my collaboration with the Saint Petersburg Music House stands as a paramount event in my musical journey. n August 2023, I participated in the masterclasses conducted by Miroslav Vinaevich Kultyshev during the Summer Academy in Kislovodsk. Subsequently, in September, as part of the grand project "River of Talents" in Saint Petersburg, I engaged in masterclasses led by Professor Alexander Mikhailovich Sandler. Following these enriching experiences, to my immense delight, the Saint Petersburg Music House welcomed me into its cadre of young soloists, granting me the opportunity to perform in various cities across our nation. Most recently, on December 14th, my cherished dream materialized through a performance with the symphony orchestra of the Mariinsky Theatre, conducted by Andrey Kolyasnikov. Under his baton, we rendered one of my most beloved works, Brahms' First Concerto. Seizing this moment, I wish to express profound gratitude to the Saint Petersburg Music House and personally to Sergei Pavlovich Roldugin. For young musicians, there is nothing more pivotal than the opportunity to perform and share their music with audiences. The initiatives of the Saint Petersburg Music House are unparalleled in their scale of support for emerging soloists.

SPMH: On January 24th, as part of the Saint Petersburg Music House's "Evenings in the English Hall" series, you will be presenting a captivating selection of compositions by Bach, Medtner, Balakirev, and Amlen. What inspires you the most in the music of these composers?

Timofey Vladimirov: For most of my acquaintances, the answer to the question "who is their favorite composer" is Johann Sebastian Bach. He is my favorite composer, and not a day passes without his music. Bach achieved a high level of perfection in the form of his compositions and an immense power of thought, combined with a profound understanding of the deepest foundations of universal human psychology. Therefore, his music exists as if "beyond time," always sounding contemporary despite being created three hundred years ago. It lacks any sense of conventionality, even though Bach composed in forms of a bygone era. His music is always a pleasure to listen to, in any mood: in joy and in sorrow. Bach is the epitome of a musician: not only the author of immortal music but also an unparalleled virtuoso performer and an outstanding teacher. His Chaconne from the Second Partita for solo violin, written in response to the death of his wife Maria Barbara, became one of the most expressive pages in his chamber music. I believe that pianists should be very grateful to Johannes Brahms and Ferruccio Busoni for creating two very different versions of this Bach masterpiece for the piano, making it possible for us to engage in the performance of this great music. For me, it is a grand meditation on life, death, and immortality, on God, the fear of death, and, conversely, the incredible sense of love for life. Bach extracted all these and many other meanings and nuances of moods from the development of a single theme.

In the works of Nikolai Karlovich Medtner, whose appeal has steadily grown over the last few decades, the central place is occupied by the large cycle "Forgotten Motives." This cycle represents perhaps the most powerful embodiment of Medtner's central idea - nostalgia for irretrievably lost times. In his 1935 book "Muse and Fashion," Medtner expresses his creative position, according to which there must be an inseparable connection between the soul of the artist and his works. In an age of terrible tragedies, social upheavals, and unprecedented technological progress, the main commandment of the Romantic era - the direct connection of the content of works of art with the inner world of their author - was violated. For Medtner, who remained faithful to the ideals of a bygone era until the very end, the only way to resurrect them was through memories. The cycle "Forgotten Motives" is a gallery of images of the past in the haze of memories, tinted with a bitter sense of the awareness of their irreversibility. The "Tragic Sonata" stands apart - in its code, a terrible whirlwind destroys the beautiful world, carrying away everything dear to the heart into oblivion.

Mily Alexeyevich Balakirev's Oriental Fantasy "Islamey" is one of the most complex and virtuosic pieces in the piano repertoire. Unfortunately, a somewhat stereotypical perception of this piece by both performers and listeners often overlooks its wonderful musical material, Balakirev's skill in developing it, and the perfection and plasticity of the work's form. Therefore, for me, the most important task is to attempt, overcoming the numerous technical difficulties of this work, to emphasize primarily the incredible vibrant beauty of this music, its enchanting color.

Marc-André Hamelin is one of the most outstanding pianists of our time; his repertoire is truly vast, and the perception of polyphony makes one believe that several people are playing simultaneously. The virtuosity of the instrument is astounding. During my studies at the Central Music School and the conservatory, I was fortunate to attend several of his solo concerts at the Tchaikovsky Hall, each of which made a profound impression on me and remained in my memory, probably for a lifetime. Hamelin also composed a series of his own works, among which the central place is occupied by a cycle of etudes. The first etude from his cycle "12 Etudes in All Minor Keys" is a kind of witty musical experiment. In the annotation, Hamelin writes that the idea of contrapuntal connection of three etudes by Frédéric Chopin in A minor belongs to Leopold Godowsky, who realized this at the beginning of the last century. However, during the war, the notes of this work were lost, so Hamelin decided to create his own piece based on this idea. Hamelin's solution turned out to be so elegant that this humor-filled piece turned into something more than a simple etude: it became a real music-theoretical study, revealing the deep kinship of the musical material of these three Chopin pieces and the development methods, perhaps not entirely conscious even to Chopin himself.

SPMH: Music is a very "inexact science." Each soloist interprets the same piece differently. How, in your opinion, can one correctly decipher the intentions of the composer?

Timofey Vladimirov: Undoubtedly, music, in today's understanding, is not an exact science. However, it is essential to note that the role of the rational element in music is enormous. The relationships between the pitches of musical sounds, the fundamental basis of European music, were established by the mathematician Pythagoras and his followers as early as the 6th century BCE. During the Middle Ages, music, as an academic discipline, was included not in the Trivium alongside the humanities of Ethics, Rhetoric, and Grammar, but in the Quadrivium, along with Arithmetic, Geometry, and Astronomy. The flourishing of the polyphony of the so-called "strict style" in the works of Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina and Orlando di Lasso convincingly demonstrates the importance of the rational element in music, as well as the highest achievements of composers in subsequent eras—Johann Sebastian Bach (especially his cycle "The Art of Fugue"), the Viennese classical composers, and many 20th-century authors.

In my view, one of the main mistakes made by performers is the deliberate desire to "interpret" a work. At times, the originality and paradox of interpretation turn into an end in itself. Ignoring the author's intentions and elementary notions of the natural musical process can lead to grotesque results. I believe that genuine interpretation arises spontaneously only with a sincere desire to avoid interpretation. Striving for simplicity and naturalness, adhering to the most straightforward authorial indications, two performers will already produce two completely different works because they will perceive the same thing differently due to their different sound extraction features, temperaments, characters, psychological experiences, and so on. Executing exactly what is written even in the simplest musical text is ultimately impossible. Therefore, Evgeny Mravinsky, even in his advanced age, continued to meticulously study the score of Tchaikovsky's Fifth Symphony, which he knew "inside out." Interpretation is born on the stage when the decisive role is played by the charm of the moment. Because of this, prominent musicians sometimes allowed for some variation of the author's instructions. However, even Beethoven, who was known for his strong aversion to any deviations from his requirements, acknowledged the correctness of one performer who played differently under the influence of the moment. Considering these reflections, one might conclude that there probably cannot be a single "correct" interpretation of a work, only the most convincing, organic, thoughtful, and appropriate to a specific context at a particular moment. Taste and the psychology of the listener also play an enormous role.

SPMH: At what moments do you feel the desire to write something yourself? How does it happen?

Timofey Vladimirov: As far as I can remember, my interest in composing music emerged right from the beginning of my piano studies. At the age of four, I found it fascinating to improvise some simple tunes. By six, after enrolling in a special music school and mastering musical notation through solfeggio classes, I began attempting to document my "compositional" experiments. At ten, I started composing regularly, and during my studies at a college in Ufa under the guidance of Ildar Izilevich Khisamutdinov, I became a laureate of several composition competitions.

After moving to Moscow in 2016, due to the necessity of highly intensive piano training at the Central Music School, I wrote less for about two years. However, after entering the conservatory, I began to study composition facultatively under Professor Alexander Alexandrovich Koblyakov. I am deeply grateful to Alexander Alexandrovich for his exceptionally systematic and truly scientific approach to the analysis and composition of music. It is a profound school for understanding the essence of deep musical processes. Alexander Alexandrovich teaches us to listen to music with completely "different ears," to understand it as a complex, multi-dimensional dramaturgical process of solving an internal musical "problem." It is the necessity of solving this problem that creates the need for the existence of a work and breathes life into it.

In 2023, after completing my specialization as a pianist and entering the assistant internship, I also started pursuing a second higher education in composition at the conservatory under the guidance of Alexander Alexandrovich Koblyakov. Composing music is as crucial to me as performing, so I am very happy that I can devote enough time and attention to it from this year onwards.

I almost constantly feel the desire to compose music. There are so many musical ideas and materials, all of which require thorough elaboration. This process demands immense concentration and a considerable amount of time, often leading to a prolonged work on a composition due to the demands of concert life.

Typically, the process of composing unfolds in the following way: first, some material is mysteriously born in my consciousness. It could be a melody, a harmonic sequence, a texture, etc. Then, I try to study this material both rationally and emotionally: understanding its structure, identifying potential for development, considering what is most natural for it, and assessing its psychological impact. It is crucial that the material is likable and genuinely inspires the desire to develop it. Subsequently, a significant amount of time passes as the overall form gradually crystallizes. I strive to intuitively and consciously construct the composition so that it grows organically from the material, like a tree from a seed, ensuring robust connections both horizontally and vertically, on different scale levels. This process is somewhat reminiscent of playing Sudoku but with many more dimensions. It is essential to facilitate the simultaneous coexistence of several different musical-dramaturgical lines emanating from one point, developing independently of each other and intertwining again at the culmination points of the composition.

SPMH: What would you like to wish yourself and your musician colleagues in the new year?

Timofey Vladimirov: In the New Year, I sincerely wish everyone robust health and well-being, inexhaustible strength, inspiration, and a continued interest in life, the ability to appreciate and live every moment to the fullest!

Interview by Tatiana Mikhaylova