It has always been—and will be—my dream to fully realize myself not only as an artist, but also as a human being. To me, that requires going beyond the geographical limitations of one country, one civilization, and making the entire world one's playground. The treasures of our world cannot be truly perceived through books and other media; they must be lived in order to become part of our experience. I think it is particularly important for an artist to experience the world first-hand, in order to be aware of it on a very profound and intimate level. The great artists of the past were always going places, soaking in their atmosphere and spirit, deriving inspiration from their culture.

Konstantin Soukhovetski

I was born and raised in Moscow at a time of great changes in Russia, as it ceased to be the U.S.S.R. and began becoming a "new," democratic country. The profound structural and political changes have completely redefined Russia at large, and Moscow in particular, making it a brand-new, at times unrecognizable city. I was born into, raised in, and departed from a completely different city that kept only its name. A gigantic megalopolis full of everything (much like New York), Moscow has a lot to offer: its historical landmarks, newly restored churches, and brand new buildings are truly breathtaking in their infinite variety and opulence of architectural style. There are countless theaters, museums, galleries, and more-most of which have emerged in very recent times, some on an empty spot, some from a long oblivion. Therefore, the "new" Moscow is a very young entity: constantly changing, evolving, surprising.

Ever since I was a child, I have been fortunate in having splendid teachers whom I really loved and respected, and with whom I always had close bonds. But by the time I graduated from the Special Music School, under the auspices of the Moscow Conservatory (after 11 years of studying there), I realized that I had absorbed all there was for me to take from the "Russian piano school" and I needed some "fresh air," something new and different. I always heard Juilliard spoken of as the ultimate music school, but it seemed so far away and so unreachable to me as a child. But what drives us if not an impossible dream? I have always loved New York, even before I visited it for the first time, so Juilliard coincided with my professional goals and I decided to go ahead.

Coming here was a double shock: first, of realizing that there wasn't any shock, and second, of realizing that students actually have to go to the classes! I had been used to the European idea of school, i.e., not going there at all, but showing up for the finals, and mainly practicing the rest of the time. It was frightfully bizarre to grasp the idea of attendance; even more so to attend! (I did adapt to the new concept, but I still don't quite understand it.) Amazingly, the rest felt more like a return to the way things always should have been, rather than like new, alien surroundings that I had to figure out. Within a month I felt like I was born in New York—like there was no other way of life or place for me, as if I had awakened from a long and strange dream but was now back in reality. Perhaps this was due to the similarity of all big cities: those never ceasing sounds of cars and trucks, random honks and sirens, that roar of the streets that sounds like an ocean. There is an incredible feeling that the entire city is at your feet: you have total control over it, rather than it over you, and you plug into its incredible energy and resources and use them as your own.

Juilliard exceeded all my expectations; I was truly amazed at the wonderful, friendly atmosphere that seems to be simply in the air here. I remember walking into the lobby for the first time and experiencing a sudden feeling of "belonging" here. It still makes my day sometimes, just to walk through our lobby and look up into the high ceiling and suddenly feel so suave. I loved it at first sight.

From the media and my friends, I had the impression that it wasn't safe in New York—but upon my arrival, I discovered that "unsafe" New York is a vintage article of 1970s and '80s movies. I love this mega-monster of a city for everything it is. I love the Upper West Side, for all that I wish for is here, within my reach—a cultural center indeed!

The Best of Russian Poetry—and suddenly, I was moved by it as I had not been before. I wonder, must we lose something to truly understand it? Must we leave a place to regain its spirit in our hearts? What I do know is that, as students in America or any other country, we are ambassadors of our countries and cultures before the world, and people perceive our cultures though each and every one of us. It is our greatest honor and responsibility to be who we are: international students, discoverers, endeavorers, cosmopolitan minds upon whom depends the future of how our cultures are thought of by the rest of the world.

Pianist Konstantin Soukhovetski is a student of Jerome Lowenthal.