A Conversation with Aysegul Durakoglu - Part 1
I sat down to speak with my childhood piano teacher and mentor about her upbringing and teaching philosophy.
A Conversation with Ayesgul Durakoglu (Part 1)
In Part 1 of this two-part conversation, pianist and educator Emine Durakoglu reflects on mentorship, musical discipline, and the timeless lessons that shape a musician’s path.
Every young person has that moment of realization after their formative years—that they are slowly becoming like their parents. They start picking up their mannerisms, begin to see things from their point of view, and eventually accept the similarities between them. The hard lessons and demands they once resisted are now, more often than not, embraced.
We musicians have our own version of this too—when we realize that, all along, our teachers were right: scales are important!
While teaching piano in London, I had this realization: I was becoming my own piano teacher, Aysegul Durakoglu. With my students, whenever I found myself emphasizing the importance of practicing scales, using the correct fingering, counting aloud, and—of course—playing slowly, I felt the creeping awareness that Ms. Emine, as I called her, had been right all along. In those moments, I could see my own childhood from her point of view—and suddenly understood the plight of piano teachers throughout time immemorial.
The education Ms. Emine gave me was foundational to my becoming a composer. She was one of the first people to explain musical forms to me and help me understand how the music I played actually worked. There was always more to the music than what appeared on the page. She was the first person to explain what a fugue was—that it had a logic behind what had once seemed to me like an arcane, unknowable labyrinth. Eventually, it became a requirement that I analyze a fugue before playing one—something I still do to this day.
It’s fitting, then, that she was also the first person to tell me my true gift was composition. She encouraged me to pursue it in higher education rather than continue down the performance track. Aside from my parents, she was my biggest fan and the strongest supporter of my writing. She pushed me to perform my own compositions at every opportunity. Each time she proudly proclaimed to listeners that her student was performing original work, it helped me overcome the natural shyness of playing my own music. It was never a question of whether my music was “worthy” of being played alongside Chopin or Beethoven.
Years later, after being accepted into the master’s composition program at the Royal College of Music, I weighed the prospect of moving across the Atlantic against staying in the U.S. for a fully funded program. Ms. Emine was the first to tell me—unequivocally—that I should go. She emphasized how vital it was for a classical musician to spend time in Europe, to travel, and to experience the history of the music I had spent my life studying. That opportunity, she insisted, should not be passed up.
Now, writing from Lisbon a decade later, I can say that her advice led to one of the most consequential decisions of my life. The experiences I’ve had in Europe have been invaluable. The people I’ve met have shaped my perspective in ways I could never have imagined. And she’ll be glad to know that I still practice piano regularly—starting with scales, of course. The metronome is a friend of mine. And most importantly, I finally understand the value of playing slowly.
Below is the first of a two-part conversation I had recently with Emine Durakoglu. We spoke about legacy, teaching, the changing world of classical music, and the enduring wisdom of her early lessons.
Q: Back in 2015, I had the pleasure of meeting you in your hometown of Istanbul, and I just so happened to be staying near Taksim Square, a place you frequented as a child. Can you tell me a little about your upbringing in Turkey and how you came to pursue piano?
Ms. Emine:
It’s a long story, but I’ll keep it short. It was also very nice to meet you in my hometown. That was really a magical coincidence. I still remember eating in that little bazaar looking for the unusual food that you wanted to taste!
Yeah. I’m from Istanbul. I always cherished that because it’s a fascinating city. It added a lot to my upbringing as a musician. I was five years old when I started a gifted kid’s program at the Istanbul Conservatory and then I was able to move into a regular program at the age of seven. As a kid I enjoyed it, always looking forward to going to the conservatory.
I also have to add that this wouldn’t have been possible without my mother. We lived in the Asian part of Istanbul, so we had to cross the Bosphorus—around two hours, sometimes more, every day. My mom carried me, just as your mom brought you to my studio. It requires a lot of dedication from parents who really love and believe in you.
I continued my studies at the Istanbul Conservatory while also attending elementary, middle, and high school. I would go to the conservatory after school two or three times a week. As a kid I had a passion for music. Even though I played and went out with friends, music was always there. I always looked forward to going home after school to practice for around three hours until dinner, before doing homework and then going to bed before midnight.
Looking back, I believe I had a great, very solid education in music that included not only piano studies, but solfège, harmony, and music theory. The piano students had to study composition as well. I had great teachers and mentors. One leading figure was Verda Un. She was a great pianist, and her husband was one of the leading composers of Turkish contemporary music. Both of them during the summer had a kind of camp in their house. After we finished the year in May, we would gather in their home and work on new repertoire all summer. And you know what? They never charged a penny.
After I graduated from the conservatory, I became a full-time professor there, believe it or not, but I had always wanted to go abroad. Classical music is a Western music tradition. Even though I had a great exposure to it in Istanbul, my teachers stressed the importance of going to Western Europe. I chose to come here to the United States and experience the legacy of this music. I came on a scholarship to Juilliard to get my master’s and then went to NYU to get my PhD, after which I ended up staying.
Q: As a teacher, you always pushed me and challenged me to reach a higher level of piano playing. How did you go about selecting certain pieces? Were there specific technical goals you had in mind? Were there certain pieces you just felt had an inherent value to learn and experience?
Ms. Emine:
That’s a great question. When I look at music education, it needs to be individual at a higher level. I always believed that it should be something taught from master to student. This is how certain legacies were passed down in the arts and certainly in music. This is also an Eastern practice. I inherited this legacy at the greatest level from my teachers in Turkey and it continued in the United States. That molded me as a musician and when I teach, I carry that influence, the elements of that legacy.
To become a pianist at a higher level, you need to be exposed to different styles. For example, in conservatory, when we had juries, we needed to play four different major pieces from four different eras. From each period, you learn different skills and each style requires different technical skills to build your musicianship.
I saw the potential in you. This type of education isn’t for everyone. It requires a lot of discipline. But you had the potential, you were gifted, and you were eager to learn. It wasn’t necessarily a conscious decision. Over time you begin to build a relationship with your student where you want to transmit everything you know. But that also works the other way. Your student needs to build a trust in you as a mentor to follow your instructions. I believe that worked for both of us and that’s the way it worked with my major mentors as well. In time with experience, you start building your own approach. This is how artistic and musical education in a most beautiful and traditional way needs to be evolved. But of course we are living in a different world right now. A lot of things have changed. I don’t apply that method to all my students.
Q: What would you say are the biggest challenges today in trying to teach?
Ms. Emine:
It’s not that the classical tradition is dying—there are a lot of young musicians who still believe in that tradition—but the biggest challenge is today’s world. There’s a more materialistic and pragmatic approach about becoming a musician. It’s becoming more about the individual rather than the tradition itself.
In the classical tradition, we play the music of others. The way I was taught, when I work on Chopin’s music, it should be about Chopin. It shouldn’t be about me. Of course, I am a tool between the composer and the audience to transmit his score, feelings, and intellect, but that requires a lot of understanding of the composer.
I think it’s related to this reality as to why I didn’t push you toward being involved in this industry as a pianist. Through experience, I learned a lot in a hard and disappointing way. Unfortunately, there are lots of different but very powerful elements that play an important role in our profession that isn’t necessarily related to your discipline, technical skills, or musicianship. Of course, there are cases where everything comes together, but that doesn’t happen for everybody.
As a teacher and experienced musician, you can only continue if you lead with your passion. In the classical genre it’s difficult because you have to invest time to practice, not only to build your skill but to maintain it. Despite all the life happenings in my life, this is the only thing that kept me going. Keeping in touch with music and keeping my passion alive.
It is difficult, but I’m not pessimistic about it. We need to be optimistic to continue in this profession. We need to find different tools, ways of teaching and exposing students to this tradition and offer for them different alternatives in the industry where they can find jobs and opportunities.
On the other hand, now at schools like Juilliard, there are classes about building your business skills and marketing. In my time, there was nothing like that. Now there is help and support. With social media too, performers can promote their music and playing. This is also an important tool. These are great developments.
In Part 2, Ms. Emine opens up about the pianists who shaped her artistry, her deep connection to Debussy, the rediscovery of her Turkish musical roots, and why pursuing music today still begins with passion. Stay tuned.
Another one for the books!