Remember the plot of the American movie Home Alone? As a child, Behzod loved that film very much, he used to watch it time and again every New Year. In the second sequence, Kevin meets a hawker in Central Park, who tells the story of his life’s journey. Then they would go to the attic of Carnegie Hall and watch a symphony orchestra concert from there. “What a wonderful hall...” exclaimed the juvenile Behzod while watching the motion picture. “I wish to perform on that stage!”
Ten years later, the pianist Behzod Abduraimov gave his first concert at Carnegie Hall, playing the works of Johann Sebastian Bach, Franz Schubert, Ludwig van Beethoven, Sergei Prokofiev... And he earned the applause of the entire world.
Sufism has always had a role to play in Behzod’s life. Although he calls night dreams a sign of one’s daytime dreams, nevertheless, he has always attended to the feeling that some invisible but very kind divine power guides his life path, and therefore he follows the right path.
When Behzod was six years old, his mother took him to the Uspensky music school in Tashkent, the famous ‘Uspenka’. She really wanted her son to be a student of the legendary Tamara Popovich. A warm autumn, a new suit that the mother has gone around for half of the city, a bouquet for the teacher, the handsome Zhukovsky street, the admissions exam...
And she, the celebrated Tamara, orders the little Behzod with a stern and ambiguous look from above, “Come on, do it.” Behzod then makes a mistake in the third etude. Tamara Afanasyevna did not accept the bouquet from his mother. She said she needed talented people, not flowers.
Easy to say... But Behzod did it. Not all at once. A year later, he studied under another tutor, when the severe Tamara listened to his performance. We don’t know for sure if her heart softened then. There is little doubt, however, that she gave Behzod a solid foundation in music, and the boy’s talent flourished on the basis of it.
But he wouldn’t want to practice it that much! He would love to be famous, perform and play in concerts! But playing gammas for four, five, six, seven hours in a row was rather thorny. He wanted to run around in the yard with his peers, play football, fly on a squeaky pony, and watch the rays of the sun shimmer in the stream. In addition, Behzod sat next to the piano every morning. The lesson would start at 08:29 and end at 12:19.
From Chilanzar to Uspenka you get by metro, tram, bus and a little walk. After Behzod’s father passed away, the family’s financial situation worsened. His mother had to raise four children on the salary of a kindergarten music teacher, and now the child started walking to school. All the way half the town, from Chilanzar to Sadik Azimov Street in the heart of the city. Two hours to Uspenka and two hours to go back home.
On Sundays, he would go to Tamara Afanasyevna's house in Uritsky Street, downtown Tashkent, to take extra lessons. Once, Behzod’s little finger got damaged. His fingernails darkened and his eyes sparked like lightning. Although the pain was unbearable, he was very happy nonetheless. It seemed to him that he could skip class and at least have one Sunday off. His mother called Tamara Afanasyevna.
“Nothing terrible, let him come”, was a dry reply from the teacher. Behzod came to the lesson. Tamara tied his little finger with his ring finger and ordered him to play. Nine fingers were left, which was enough for the professional. During childhood, he did not miss a single lesson with this instructor.
Queen. The founder of the piano school of Uzbekistan. She has coached myriads of gifted musicians. And they have conquered the most celebrated concert halls of the world and continue to do so…
The ability of highclass instruction has allowed her to create a unique and incomparable style of schooling. After the lessons, Behzod would take his teacher by the arm and help her walk to the bus stop.
At the age of sixteen, Behzod went to Lake Como, Italy, to his second teacher, Stanislav Ioudenitch. Wikipedia refers to Ioudenitch as an “Uzbekistaniborn American pianist”. Behzod understood that he wanted to take lessons from him, a talented, calm, very intelligent person. Behzod would record each of his lessons, then come home, listen to them over and over again, and practice for many hours. And Tamara Afanasyevna's voice would not leave his ears: “Your animal is capable, but it does not know how to work”. He worked and worked and worked.
As for the word animal, it was a compliment from a teacher who rarely praised. She would normally say, “You did half a penny better today”. Virtuosity and mastery of the instrument were collected from half a penny. Every past day and every practice. As a result, he soon became the owner of a great skill that was recognized across the world.
The eighteen-year-old Behzod went on his first tour with Vladimir Ashkenazi, the great pianist and conductor whose records are on the shelf in Popovich’s house. At that time, Ashkenazi seemed to the boy like a very distant star in the universe. Now he is rehearsing with his orchestra. China. Australia, Malaysia…
“I had a clear vision of what I wanted. But reality has always presented me with other and better options. In 2007, an acquaintance invited me to London, to a small concert in a church. At that time, I was without a big name, without any story. He took me to a London Philharmonic Orchestra concert. It was the first live concert I ever watched. Some pianist was playing a tune, and an acquaintance of mine, a historian and music lover, said, “Next time you are going to be on the stage, and I will sit here in the auditorium”. I thought, maybe in a dozen years. Half a year later, I opted for a four-stage competition with the same hall and the same orchestra, and won. Ten months later, I actually played music on this stage, and my friend was sitting in this hall. “Veni, vidi, vici”, he used to say.
At Behzod’s first concert at Carnegie Hall, the string broke, fortunately in the high register. There are three chords for each key. If you don’t remove the broken one, it will squeal. Behzod waited for the orchestral part, then got up and removed the broken string. After the concert, fans came up to him and expressed their admiration for his performance. They said that he was so overcome with emotion that he even stood up at one point. It was rather voluntary. Luckily though, nobody happened to have understood anything.
“Music is not just part of my life, it’s almost my life entirely. It is always in my head, in my thoughts. No matter what I’m doing. A musician’s success is made up of four parts, the first of which is talent. You can’t get anywhere without it, and if you don’t have the talent, 25 hours a night is pointless. Maybe in other professions, but not in music. The second is the coaches and teachers who help you make it; to perform. The third is hard work. It’s like that with pianists – you either become a star or a teacher. There are ten million contenders for the ‘stardom’, and it takes a lot of hard graft to beat them. This is a big choice. And the fourth is luck.”
Behzod Abduraimov’s whole life is scheduled by hours. Tour plans are made two years in advance. He rests only in Tashkent, where he has the opportunity to relax like an ordinary person. Most of the evenings, he sits in the car, drives around the city, recalls his childhood, goes to school. Tashkent is a place that gives him strength. His home is here. Although Behzod is used to being a a global citizen and feels that he belongs to the place wherever he is, he cannot forget this feeling that he is a native of Tashkent.
Once, before a concert in Baden-Baden, he gave an interview and the journalist uttered a sentence Behzod did not agree with. He had to perform Rachmaninoff’s third concerto, which was quite complicated at that time. For the Germans, Bach, Beethoven, Schubert are the Bible, that is, real music, while the rest are, let’s say, imitations. Including Rachmaninoff. The journalist expressed his opinion that only Germans can understand Bach, feel the deep essence of genius thoughts, and Rachmaninoff can be understood only by Russians.
“Look,” Behzod said. “I am neither German nor Russian. I am from Central Asia. What you’re telling me is that I can’t understand these geniuses to the end? For me, Bach, Schubert, Shostakovich, Rachmaninoff are the people of the world. They left their music to all of us, to all of humanity. If I were you, I wouldn’t have those who understand us and those who don’t. Music is a universal language. If it’s not the case, what do you think I am doing here? Do I play music I don’t understand?”
The pianist Abduraimov has become a talent belonging to all humanity. All corners of the globe – from small halls in quiet cities of the United States to prestigious halls that have shown Behzod’s art in Paris, London, New York, Tokyo and Sydney, stand up and applaud him. Everyone comes to know our country by name, because this very talented pianist is from Uz… Uzbekistan. Where is that country, lad?
Tokyo is a special fave. Two months ago, there was a big concert in the Japanese capital city, where Behzod gave two concerts with a symphony orchestra and another solo concert. Before the gig, the Japanese presented him with a huge bouquet of flowers and a postcard written in Uzbek: “Mr. Abdusan...”.
While he was rehearsing in Sydney, a young man who was arranging chairs came up to Behzod and expressed his admiration for his performances and asked where he could get a disc with his music. Behzod told him that lots of great pianists have played these melodies and advised him to go to YouTube. However, the next day the young man came up to Behzod with a disc he had found, that is, with Behzod’s recordings, and asked him to sign it. Then he invited him to go surfing.
In Tashkent, Behzod Abduraimov always gives concerts for free. Perhaps we hardly understand yet what kind of gift he is giving to everyone? And while he is here, it is good to use the opportunity to organize his concerts. For now, he gives more concerts in Carnegie Hall than in Tashkent.
Behzod’s father, Abdurazzak Abduraimov, a talented physicist and mathematician, was an inventor. One of his inventions is a pneumatic engine, a machine that works in compressed air. The invention was patented, but there was not enough money for the copyright. The pneumatic engine is the eternal dream of humanity,
it’s environmentfriendly, noiseless, free. Many scientists have tried to create a working model. The Abduraimovs had it, and Behzod walked around the yard in it. His father used to write letters, asking for funding, explaining the prospect of the invention. It was the nineteen nineties.
Then he died. A few years later, the French scientist Guy Negre presented his invention to the world – a compressed air engine. Then Behzod’s mother received phone calls. However, by this time, all the drawings in the patent office had disappeared. Or stolen. And now, many years on, it’s hard to get to the truth.
Everyone in this family is talented, and in this, for sure, there is a great service from his mother, who raised her children and made them all highly educated. Behzod's older sister Dilafruz Mamadalieva is a teacher at the Conservatory, while his younger sister Yulduz Abduraimova is an orientalist, she lives in the USA. His brother Javlon Abduraimov is an experienced surgeon... Brilliant kids of brilliant parents...
... At the age of eight, Behzod managed to make it to the concert of Alexei Sultanov, Tamara Popovich’s favorite student, in Tashkent. Sold out, hard to get in, but he got lucky. This concert inspired him, he wanted to perform like Alexei Sultanov. He dreamed of becoming a great pianist.
Now, after his performances, children with burning eyes come to him. And Behzod sees his childhood dreams and himself in these eyes.
But now, it is he who is a source of inspiration.
