Composer Avet Terteryan is known for his philosophical explorations in music and his innovations in the symphonic genre. In his own words, he “caught sounds from the universe” and combined them with silence — from which sound is born and to which it returns.

From his personal life, it is known that he was married to musicologist Irina Tigranyan, who has preserved and promoted his legacy. They had one child together — musicologist Ruben Terteryan.

Only now — nearly thirty years after Avet Terteryan’s death —  has it been revealed that the composer had a daughter, Ave Sophia, born in Estonia. A month ago, Ave Sophia Demelemester, a cultural executive and currently a director of Music Estonia, visited Armenia. Hetq spoke with Sophia.

This was your fourth time in Armenia. Could you tell us what Armenia means to you and what makes this visit special?

In Armenia, I feel whole and complete. Armenia means history, personal roots, and a wonderful blooming country to me. On one hand, everything feels possible, on the other, there is an incredible rooted power, lying in deep traditions, large-scale historical roots, and the force of nature. I’ve never experienced the power of land like this. I suppose my previous experiences and my personal story make it a bit more unique and not entirely objective, but I believe it’s quite true also for the people living in Armenia.

What’s your answer to the question: Who is your father? Could you share both the short and the long versions of your answer?

Short answer: Avet Terteryan.

Long answer: A composer whom young creators call “the father of us all” — the father of higher creative energy and the peak of avant-garde cosmic music. Probably one of the most unique and according to others genius composers of all time, who gave us silence and the power of the universe. A composer whose power is about to rise and should rise even bigger. 

The well-known Armenian poet Vahan Teryan has a poem titled Estonian Song, written in 1906 in Moscow, inspired by his unfulfilled romance with an Estonian woman named Alina. Avet Terteryan also had an Estonian story in his life, and you were born. How much were Estonia and Armenia connected back in the day, and how much do you know about the stories that nourished these ties?

Yes, it’s amazing that you have found out about the Estonian Song — even the name of the author has some written similarities. I would not go into the story of my mother and father, as this is deeply personal and should stay between those involved, ending as for all of us with Avet’s passing in 1994. Now, I came to build my own story, but of course a wider history has a strong role in it. 

All the Soviet Union countries had extremely close ties, until they were about to be reorganized some years ago. For example, over ten years ago, for the celebration of the 95th anniversary of the Republic of Estonia and Estonian-Armenian cultural friendship, a cultural project Everyone’s Going to Yerevan took place in Armenia. But the traces go back further. My father was probably featured in an Estonian newspaper for the first time in 1966, participating in the 8th Congress of the Composers' Union of the Estonian SSR in Tartu — a three-page article. He was also featured multiple times on Estonian radio, for example with an interview in 1987. Apart from this, he was friends with our world-famous composer Arvo Pärt, whose 90th birthday we are celebrating worldwide with cultural events and state delegations this year. Many Estonian musicians went to Armenia to perform.

Working in the music industry — as head of an Estonian export office and development centre for music companies and industry — and belonging to the European network of export offices, I feel that these ties between different music markets need strong re-establishment. In a wider sense, the whole music industry has changed. With the hope that the industry can come together and be represented across Europe and the wider world, there are multiple ways for creative collaborations to arise. 

What does it mean to be the daughter of a famous composer whom few people know? How did you decide to speak about it publicly, and what was your motivation? Why now?

It feels incredibly grand and honorable. I guess I just feel honored, and at the same time I feel I should somehow bring something to it. I guess you can say it's a calling.

I have always known my story, but it ended abruptly with the death of a great composer. It was therefore closed, and it has taken time to open it accordingly. Through my work, I had some great chances to collaborate with Armenians before. During my time as Head of the Exhibitions at our National Library of Estonia, I collaborated many times with the Embassy of Armenia and the diaspora we have in Estonia, even celebrating my father’s creation.

In 2015, I came to present Estonian book art and graphic art together with artists of Estonia in Yerevan — a grand follow-up to the exhibition in Estonia, led by KulturDialog Armenia here. It was officially the second time I came back to Armenia. The third time was this April, when I celebrated my 35th birthday with my husband. And now, for the fourth time, I was happy to discover a festival here influenced by his Third Symphony. I’ve learned that you have to be in Armenia to really see and experience things, and let yourself be surprised.

Why now? In the meantime, between my second and third visit — ten years — I also had a chance to contact relatives and meet people from the music industry, latter thanks to a global music conference, where Armenia, with twenty people, was represented for the first time. Thus, I was able to build more relations. But the strongest motivation was a shock. I thought I would peacefully continue my journey of small discoveries about my fatherland, until Maria Terteryan, the well-known jazz pianist with whom I was in contact, passed away after Ruben. The waiting time was over. Sometimes you can’t just keep waiting. I looked for my friends in the industry, and also reached out to important relatives, such as my brother Ruben’s wife, Hasmik Terteryan, and came to discover, respectfully but full of eagerness to know and contribute. I met people who are doing the most wonderful things about Terteryan’s legacy. 

What does Avet Terteryan’s music mean to you? Could it be a way to connect with your father, through his music?

Portrait of Avet Terteryan: Rudolf Khachatryan 1978

I don’t think I can give a singular answer to this. But yes, it’s a way to get to know him. His music will live for all of us. I think he’s with me through his music and in every step I’ve taken so far. I feel his presence.

About the music — I’m continuously impressed, and I can listen to his works over and over, discovering new nuances. I’m impressed how he truly connected music in the broadest sense, being borderless and bold. His ability to use all sound and even non-sound is powerful. He had the gift to bring higher experiences to us, while being so modern and captivating — going from traditions to modernisations. I think there isn’t anyone quite like him.

What are you doing now? How has the image of your father influenced that?

Ave Sophia Demelemester: Photo by Radoslaw Kazmierczak

As I tied it to my answer earlier, I’m working in the music industry. With my team, our goal is to represent the Estonian music industry across genres, aiming to grow support structures, ensuring there is international contacts, data, meaningful strategies, and good understanding at the state level. We deal with programmes, trade missions, research, and belong to various international organisations, helping to shape the industry worldwide. Structure and support at different levels is the key.

I think the image of my father, from what I’ve read — his abilities to demonstrate high management skills, being active in the Composers’ Union, Ministry of Culture, and as President of the Austrian-Armenian Friendship Society — shows me that we seem to share a similar skillset. And as others have said — he was a connector with the international industry. After his passing, when I was four, I knew I wanted to shape the cultural sector. It just came to me. I guess his image symbolised something very unifying for me, spreading even wider and in an expanded way, as his music did.

If we speak about connections, my first workplace was the Austrian Reading Room in the National Library of Estonia, since my first education was in German Language and Culture. I also think the true similarity, which can also be found in his compositions, is cross-sectoral creation. 

As I am not an artist myself, though a very creative personality, this is what interests me — building the creative economy with a truly cross-sectoral, cross-collaborative attitude.

What is your biggest dream?

I dream that his legacy will shine bright. It was a wonderful surprise to find his house in Hayravank being rebuilt and multiple other developments happening regarding his works. I also hope that Dilijan’s great premises will be used more actively for different kinds of music, and that his house there will be renovated. I’ve been so happy to meet amazing and truly kind people who have great ideas. So, I would be glad, first of all, just to play a part in that. I dream that his works will be performed more and more internationally, and that his 100th anniversary in four years will be celebrated honorably.

Top photo: Ave Sophia Demelemester (Photo by Ode-Eliisabet Elias)