Bogdan Dugalic, pianist: “I pray before going out to play the piano”

At 21, Bogdan Dugalic (Belgrade, 2003) is not a young man in a hurry. As a pianist, one of this Serbian musician's goals is to master time. To escape the whirlwind, among other things, he tries to tame it through prayer. He just won the 2nd Málaga International Piano Competition , directed by pianist Pablo Amorós, against 24 participants from 12 different countries—nine of them Chinese—but he prevailed for having his own vision of the instrument beyond the necessary virtuosity. He shone in the final with Tchaikovsky's first concerto for his instrument with the Andalusian city's Philharmonic Orchestra . A piece that reflects, according to him, the Slavic way of being with which he identifies: "Open, passionate, but very focused," he says.

Question: Pianist Sergei Babayan , when he gave his inaugural concert in Malaga, demonstrated that, to achieve complete connection, he literally didn't want to leave his piano, not even for a meal. Is that what you want in life?

Answer: I think it's a very pertinent question for this moment. I would say that, based on my experience, yes, but for the future, I don't know. In any case, making a living from music is what I want, and for that, I want to arrange the pieces in a way that works for me, doesn't harm me or make me feel obligated.

Q. As a sentence?

R. Exactly.

P. However, you believe that your work as an artist depends not exclusively on a conventual way of approaching music, but on being in contact with life and other influences.

A. I think that to play the piano well you must first be a person and open yourself to all kinds of experiences.

Q. A person or a good person? Thomas Mann warned us in Doctor Faustus that a good musician can turn into the devil.

A. Yes, we would have to determine what it means to be a good person.

Q. Would it be enough to show awareness of what the human condition entails?

A. It depends on your circumstances, too. Everything that shapes us from childhood.

Q. For example, what was your childhood like in Belgrade?

A. In my case, I had everything I needed. My parents, theater artists, have always been supportive. But a support they knew would be beneficial to my growth as a human being. Art was always present, though it wasn't an obligation, but rather an invitation to explore it.

Q. Growing up in a country that had recently emerged from a war, did that leave a lasting impression on you?

A. I was born in 2003, and the echoes were distant, but the family atmosphere was so healthy I didn't even notice. Although the wounds of war are still there, of course.

Q. I've heard you're passionate about sports. Are you very competitive?

A. Yes, really, since I was a kid. I come from a country with great athletes. I think that influences whether you want to be the best. But not the best compared to others, but compared to what you can become.

Q. That mentality is very much like a tennis player. The code of the Big Three (Djokovic, Nadal, and Federer). Does the pianist's loneliness have anything to do with that sport?

A. A lot. You're alone and forced to control the situation on your own. What's happening outside and what's happening inside. For that, you need great mental and psychological control. Be very aware of what you're going to face and how to handle it in each situation.

P. You also told me that you are a religious person.

A. Yes, Orthodox Christian.

Q. Does this combination of a sports mentality and a search for spirituality also help your career?

A. A lot. I think I was chosen for what I do. Winning this competition has something to do with that.

Q. If you are referring to a marked destiny, then aren't you a free man?

A. I think so. It has nothing to do with predestination. The fact of choosing to come here implies a freedom. A freedom of choice that God, beforehand, places before you, yes. But earning it already implies a marked path toward a place.

Q. Okay. Do you think you won because the jury saw in you a voice of your own rather than a note-repeating machine?

R. It could be, yes.

Q. Does becoming a piano master mean being able to understand and master timing?

A. Maybe it has to do with it. Mastering all those parameters of music—and time is one of them—naturally, but according to a vision. It's not something you study; rather, it comes with all the teachings you've had, leading you to a place of your own, to a specific expression. That's how I perceive it.

Q. How do you balance your understanding of timing in music in such a fast-paced world?

A. Maybe sometimes with prayer, which is a form of meditation that helps you achieve specific focus. I pray before going out. It calms you down, especially in this crazy world. Stopping for five minutes and saying something mindful to yourself helps discipline you to seek calm.

Q. Are you referring to the line from the story The Russian Pilgrim : “Lord Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner?”

A. That's exactly it. Repeat it many times until you can concentrate.

Q. Does nature also inspire you to meditate?

A. Absolutely, as something unique created by God and to separate you from this world dominated by technology. Moving forward is a human impulse; it's not new. But you must overcome the anxiety it leads to, not get distracted, and appreciate every moment.

Q. What were you thinking when you tackled the Tchaikovsky Concerto in the final?

A. I felt like I was in a great moment of flow. I managed to let go of the pressure. I enjoyed it, focusing on the energy needed to make the music flow, not just the notes following one another. I found that innocent joy of playing with music, searching for expressions, colors.

Q. Why did you choose that piece? What do you think it conveys?

A. A unique way of being and existing in the world, perhaps very Slavic, with which I identify. Very strong emotions from beginning to end.

Q. A Slavic way of being in the world? Which one?

R. Warm, open, passionate, very focused. A beautiful combination of many things that fit together and represent an authenticity and a unique character.