Vladimir Vishnevsky was born in 2002 in the city of Rybinsk. He graduated from the Children’s Music School affiliated with the L. V. Sobinov Yaroslavl Music College, where he studied under the Honoured Artist of the Russian Federation Nedda Ayazyan. In 2016, he entered the Gnessin Moscow Special School of Music, where he studied under Associate Professor Tatyana Shklovskaya. Since 2022, he has been a student of the Tchaikovsky Moscow State Conservatory, studying under the Honoured Artist of the Russian Federation, Professor Andrei Pisarev. In 2022, he was awarded the Grand Prix at the Lisbon Stars International Competition. In 2023, he received the Grand Prix at the Nielsen International Competition and the First Prize at the Mussorgsky Competition. In 2025, he became the Grand Prix winner of the 6th Vladimir Krainev Moscow International Piano Competition and received the First Prize at the 2nd International Competition named after Sergei Rachmaninoff. He is a recipient of the Mayor of Moscow’s Grant (2021). Since 2015, he has been a scholarship holder and participant in the concert programs of the Vladimir Spivakov Foundation. He has performed on the stages of the Zaryadye Concert Hall, the Moscow International House of Music, and the Saint Petersburg Philharmonic. He has toured in Spain, Portugal, France, Italy, Denmark, Lithuania, and other countries.

Saint Petersburg Music House (SPMH): You opened the 20th concert season of the Saint Petersburg Music House at the Beloselsky-Belozersky Palace with Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No. 3. In your opinion, did you succeed in uncovering the composer’s idea?
Vladimir Vishnevsky: Did I succeed? That is the kind of question we will probably keep asking ourselves throughout our entire lives. By “we,” I mean those of us who step out onto the stage. Because you can never be completely sure that you have even come close, even by a single inch, to what a person of such immense stature as Sergei Vasilievich Rachmaninov had in mind. There are moments when it suddenly feels as though you have drawn nearer, grasped something, played it, but then some time passes, and you realize that it was only a tiny fragment, and that there is still an immense depth to explore. Yet this is not only a matter of self-improvement. It is also a matter of life experience as a musician, of how much you have heard, how much you have seen, and, in general, of how you live, at least that is how it seems to me. Our performance on stage changes together with us: it depends on what fills us at that moment, who surrounds us, what we listen to, what we see, what we read. That is why, I think, I will never be able to say that I have truly come close to what the composer himself wrote.

SPMH: Speaking about his Third Piano Concerto, Rachmaninov emphasized that he “wanted to sing the melody on the piano the way singers sing it.” For you, is the piano a “singing” instrument?
Vladimir Vishnevsky: That certainly remains one of the goals that I pursue. Yes, to sing, that is something extremely important in music in general, and especially in Russian music. But to me, what distinguishes our Russian piano school is not only the ability to sing. Singing exists in other musical cultures as well. What is special about ours is that this singing is intertwined with conversation. And that, I think, is no less important than singing itself. That is why I try to cultivate in myself this very quality, to understand that playing the piano is not only about singing, but also about speaking. When we talk about Rachmaninov’s music, there is, without any doubt, an enormous amount of singing in it. Because his phrasing is unique, it never really ends. You feel as though you have found it, here comes the cadence, everything seems clear, and yet the melody does not end. It continues, as if it were one great, boundless road, a beautiful Russian road. Just today, as I was traveling first from Yaroslavl to Moscow and then from Moscow to Veliky Novgorod, I was thinking about precisely this while looking out the window. Those little islands of landscape, each of them is different. Here was a coniferous forest, there suddenly a leafy one, and somewhere autumn had already begun, with leaves turning all shades of color. Then suddenly there was a lake, then a river. And yet, all of it together forms one great and beautiful Russian road.

SPMH: Do vocal lessons help you as a pianist?
Vladimir Vishnevsky: Vocal lessons are a very special and fascinating thing for me, because I am an enormous admirer of vocal music, of operatic music in particular. Just yesterday, for instance, I had a concert at the Yaroslavl Philharmonic with the laureates of Hibla Gerzmava’s Competition for Vocalists and Accompanists, where I was also fortunate enough to receive an award. It was an immense pleasure, and in no way did it diminish me as a pianist. I performed with great joy, played my own pieces, and there were all sorts of surprises: new singers joined in, new arias appeared, new duets were added. Yet all of it brought me tremendous enjoyment. I have absolutely no doubt that it helps me. My unconditional love for this art form simply overrides any other thoughts in my head. I adore singers, I adore singing, and of course it cannot help but influence and enrich me. I would not presume to advise anyone that they must study voice or must sing, but sometimes, when I have questions about a phrase or about tone, I need to have a clear sound image in my head. I sing the phrase, and suddenly something becomes clearer, more comprehensible in my mind. Serious vocal art is incredibly difficult. It seems to me that it is one of those arts that demand a particularly good ear, more than most others. Because when singers perform (I cannot say we sing, because I cannot truly call myself a singer, I wish I could, but I cannot), when one sings, especially when one has command of breathing and understands how the body and the resonating spaces work, one hears oneself rather poorly. That is why an external ear is so essential. So I am glad that both the piano and singing are part of my life, and that this love of mine has given rise to new experiences and even to new competitions. Thanks to this love, I have made many acquaintances and gained many truly close friends in the world of opera, which, of course, gives me great joy.

SPMH: This summer you were awarded the First Prize at the Second International Rachmaninov Competition. Does Rachmaninov’s music play a special role in your life?
Vladimir Vishnevsky: I think it is impossible to overestimate the importance of Rachmaninov’s music, not only in the life of a musician, but in the life of any human being. Have you ever seen the face of a person hearing the Third Piano Concerto for the very first time? Or the Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, or the Second Symphony, or the Vocalise, or his romances? There are so many examples. I have often met friends who have nothing to do with the world of music, and I show them some of his compositions, and they say, “My God, I never imagined that such a thing could even exist.” People are used to thinking classical music is boring, but in this case, it is nothing of the sort. It is something absolutely incredible. Rachmaninov’s music is something inseparable, something innate, something a person is simply born with. It seems to flow through one’s blood, to live in every cell of one’s body. It feels native, familiar, and it never loses its freshness. Fortunately, no music ever becomes routine for me, but Rachmaninov’s music — and especially the Third Concerto — brings such boundless happiness when one has the chance to perform it that words truly fail to describe it. And he is so many-sided: his legacy includes piano works, vocal compositions, chamber music, those magnificent trios, as well as symphonic works and operas. He left behind such an immense heritage that everyone who loves music feels an irresistible desire to touch it, to be close to it. And what a legacy his recordings are! It is an enormous blessing that they have come down to us. We know Sergei Vasilyevich as a genius composer, but he was also a phenomenal pianist. That is why Rachmaninov, for us, truly represents everything.

SPMH: The Grand Prix at the Vladimir Krainev International Competition became another major victory for you this year. At competitions, what matters more to you, playing or winning?
Vladimir Vishnevsky: The Krainev Competition was the second most significant one for me this year, and I am truly happy that everything there turned out so well, and that it was there that I had the opportunity to meet Vladimir Spivakov. Of course, winning is wonderful, it is a great joy, but for me it is always a rather complex question, because at that particular moment an enormous number of factors have to come together. I do not in any way wish to diminish anyone’s merits, yet I do think that this is true. In any case, time always puts everything in its proper place, who received a prize deservedly, and who perhaps did not. I would not even like to dwell on that aspect. What is truly important to me in competitions is to ensure that neither the audience nor I myself feel that we are in a competition. Because whether it is a competition or not, the most important thing is the music itself, the music that is being played and that fills the hall. If you allow unnecessary thoughts about scores or opinions to enter your head, it becomes a serious obstacle. That is why I always try to set my mind as if I were giving a concert performance. I do not know how to, and see no sense in trying to, distinguish between a concert performance and a competition performance. I cannot deliberately play for someone, I simply do not understand how that is done. So for me, what really matters is to gain something new for myself and to give what I have inside to the people sitting in the hall. Because when you step onto the stage of the Great Hall of the Conservatory, or the main stage of the Stanislavsky and Nemirovich-Danchenko Theatre, or the Svetlanov Hall of the Moscow International House of Music, and you see all those people before you, at that moment, of course, you are not thinking about how much you would like to win a prize.

SPMH: When and how did you realize that music was truly your world?
Vladimir Vishnevsky: I never really had to realize that music was my world, I simply never thought about it in those terms, because music has been with me since birth, and even before birth. Both of my parents are musicians; they sing in a church choir. My mother is now the choir director, and my father still sings in the same choir. They were already doing that long before I was born. There was no kindergarten in my life, there was the church. I would go there with my mother or my father. And at some point, my parents must have noticed that I had an ear for music and a sense of rhythm, so they took me to a music school. It all began in Rybinsk, at Children’s Music School No. 7, with a wonderful teacher, Irina Aleksandrovna Nikulushkina. She was the one who managed to convey to a small child that music is not something frightening or tedious, but something that brings immense joy, that all the emotions one may experience in life are already contained within music. My entire period of study in Rybinsk was completely free from stage anxiety or any sense of fear or responsibility. For me, it was one continuous source of pure pleasure.  
Two immense blessings in my life are my parents and my teachers. I have been incredibly fortunate. My parents have always accompanied me along the way. After four years of studying in Rybinsk, they took me to meet a remarkable, truly brilliant teacher in Yaroslavl, Nedda Israilevna Ayazyan, an Honoured Artist of Russia, an extraordinary musician. May she rest in peace; sadly, she is no longer with us. It was she who became my teacher, and that marked the beginning of a great journey in my education. An enormous amount of work was done with me, truly tremendous work. And, probably for the first time in my life, I was made to understand that a musician must have a broad and comprehensive education: to listen, to read, to watch, to absorb everything that is best, most beautiful, and most remarkable around you. Unfortunately, our time together was not very long, I studied with her for three years. That was when major concerts and competitions began, including “The Nutcracker” Competition. Throughout those three years, I traveled from Rybinsk to Yaroslavl for lessons. Then came admission to Moscow. I entered the Gnessin Moscow Special School of Music, and that opened yet another new and exceptionally happy chapter in my life, my meeting with my teacher, my second mother, Tatyana Grigoryevna Shklovskaya. She is an extraordinary person and a wonderful teacher, and we remain in close contact to this day. She gave me an immeasurable amount of knowledge and skill. She never dictated how or what exactly I should play; instead, she taught me to think independently, to listen for myself, and to work on myself. We travelled to many countries together, performed extensively abroad, and also across Russia, at competitions and concerts alike. It was an extremely significant stage in my life. She remains my teacher and my second mother. Four years ago, I graduated from the Gnessin School with honors, just as it should be.
Then I entered the Conservatory, and once again, I was fortunate. My professors were Andrei Alexandrovich Pisarev and Nikolai Lvovich Lugansky, people of exceptional sensitivity, profoundly perceptive musicians, extraordinarily kind and attentive individuals, and remarkable teachers, each with their own distinct manner of teaching that stems from the school of Sergei Leonidovich Dorensky. These are the kind of teachers who can, with just a few words, redirect your entire way of thinking so that you suddenly understand what you need to do and in which direction you need to think. From that moment on, your work proceeds in a completely different way, at a different pace, on a different level. It is such teachers who have surrounded me throughout my life, and who continue to do so. Without all of this, I suppose, none of what I have achieved would have been possible. I am very glad that I have always had, and will undoubtedly continue to have, the warmest relationships with my teachers.

SPMH: How have you travelled this path of learning, from your very first note to where you are today?
Vladimir Vishnevsky: The most important thing is that this entire journey, from my very first note to the one I play today, has been surrounded by an immense love for music, for people, and for life itself. Because without that, nothing truly works. No matter how perfectly everything may seem to be done, without love nothing turns, nothing moves at all. That is why all my teachers, my parents, and all the close people in my life, through their own lives, through their personal example, and simply through their very presence, help me to play, to love, and to live. I think that my entire path is built on that foundation. As for learning, I believe we will always remain students. It is an enormous advantage, though at times it may seem like a disadvantage, that we continue learning throughout our lives. When you watch a film about Richter, who, at a very advanced age, says that he is dissatisfied with himself, that alone clarifies a great deal in one’s mind about how one ought to live and how one ought to exist on stage. My path is filled with such people and such realizations.

SPMH: You were a finalist of the All-Russian project The River of Talents. In your opinion, what makes this project unique, and how has it influenced your life and your artistic plans?
Vladimir Vishnevsky: I was a finalist of The River of Talents two years ago. I took part in a master class given by the wonderful Saint Petersburg professor Alexander Mikhailovich Sandler. And, fortunately for me, he chose me. It goes without saying, but I would still like to emphasize that this is an exceptionally unique project. It gives young musicians, students and sometimes even school pupils, an opportunity to perform concerts across our vast country, to play with orchestras, and to gain that invaluable experience. Playing with an orchestra is, first of all, a special skill, a distinct genre of performance. And secondly, it is something that rarely happens without someone’s help or support. That is why I feel immense gratitude toward Sergei Pavlovich Roldugin and all those who work at the Saint Petersburg Music House, all those who help us, the musicians. Thanks to this project, we can step onto major stages already having experience of performing with an orchestra, and that is extremely important. Besides, the project covers all of Russia, such a vast geographical reach, and that, too, is wonderful. I am sure that many, many people would wholeheartedly agree with my words.

SPMH: Apart from music, what else is part of your circle of interests?
Vladimir Vishnevsky: My life includes everything that nourishes my soul and my mind, everything they demand. I adore the theatre, both musical and dramatic. It gives me enormous pleasure. I am a very empathetic person. I love the visual arts deeply. I have an incredible affection for the Hermitage and the Russian Museum; whenever I am in Saint Petersburg, I always make sure to visit them. I love nature as well. It nourishes and calms me, and sometimes that is exactly what one needs. The Mariinsky Theatre is a special love of mine, especially after meeting some of its brightest artists. And of course, I find inspiration in working with different people, with different conductors, orchestras, and musicians. In recent months, I have performed on stage together with Alexander Knyazev, Hibla Gerzmava, and Vadim Repin, people of such stature that when you share the stage with them, you engage completely, one hundred, even three hundred percent. I cannot say that I fail to engage without them, but they somehow keep you in a state of constant creative energy and alertness.
Everything connected with art, everything that is art, is part of my life.

SPMH: What kind of artistic experiment would you like to take part in?
Vladimir Vishnevsky: There are many experiments. Though they are often not as experimental as they might seem at first glance. For instance, when you suddenly have to learn something urgently, or, as happened just yesterday, when during the intermission it turns out that we will be performing without a single rehearsal, such unexpected situations are the real experiments. As for the stage itself, I cannot say that I am particularly fond of experiments in music. Of course, there are people I would very much like to meet and share the stage with, and I do not exclude the possibility that this may happen quite soon.

Interview by Tatyana Mikhailova