A Ukrainian pianist now based in Miami, Vladyslav Ustiuhov has built a reputation for lyric intensity, architectural clarity, and chamber-honed listening. Trained at the Boston Conservatory at Berklee (B.M., M.M.) and currently pursuing his D.M.A. at the University of Miami’s Frost School of Music, he performs widely as a soloist and collaborator while earning top prizes on the 2025 competition circuit. His recent recording of Scriabin’s Etude in D-sharp Minor, Op. 8 No. 12 arrives with a personal charge: the piece first seized him as a student; years later, amid relocation, distance from home, and a world in turmoil, its “musical tempest” became both mirror and vessel.
In this conversation for Songlens Magazine, Ustiuhov traces the etude’s dramatic arc from its declamatory opening through its incandescent climax, opens his score to reveal technical choices that keep power supple and tension-free, and reflects on how chamber music, pedagogy, and lived experience shape the colors he draws from the piano.
Q&A
Your new release of Scriabin’s Etude Op. 8 No. 12 has a very personal backstory. What first drew you to this piece, and what finally told you the time was right to record it?
My first encounter with this particular piece was a video recording of legendary Vladimir Horowitz. I remember I was amazed by the depth of his tremendous dynamic range and his sound control. Much later, when I was a freshman at the conservatory, I learned this piece but never performed it. And only during my Master’s and DMA Degree studies I focused on performing it live. The recording time coincided with my relocation to Miami from Boston, where I lived several years. Being a foreigner in a new city has brought back nostalgic feelings I once had when I’d just moved to the United States. In addition to that, there was (and still is) this terrible war in my hometown in Ukraine and my family who remains there. Thus, everything around me was shaping my repertoire choices. This fiery work with a lyrical inner soul has stuck in my mind, so I decided to share it with other people who may feel similar.
You describe the etude as a “musical tempest.” When you build its narrative arc, what emotions bookend your interpretation—from the first declamatory chords to the final climax?
This piece captures the artist’s two worlds: an outer world of chaos, wars, and struggles, and an inner world of fragile hopes and dreams, where the former overshadows the latter.
Technically, Op. 8 No. 12 is infamous for left-hand octaves and right-hand lyricism. What concrete strategies (fingering decisions, rotation, redistribution) helped you maintain power without tension?
Slow practice with flexible hands is the best approach. During octave passages in the right hand I frequently use 4–5 and sometimes 3–4–5 to create a physical legato connection. Also, I tried to look for the agogic points in order to shape the melody. There are some notes that hold the entire phrases. Aiming towards those notes helps to redistribute hand weight and lessen the tension.
How do you balance Scriabin’s early-period, Chopin-tinged lyricism with the more modern harmonic bite that already hints at the composer he would become?
I picture every piece as a certain character, a certain puzzle of influences, emotions, and moods. As you may know, Scriabin lived at different times than Chopin. He had a better piano. Unlike Chopin, who was mainly a self-taught pianist, Scriabin studied at a private music school and later at the Moscow Conservatory, where there were other “trends” in composition. Even in the work that I played you can hear certain experiments with harmony, rhythms, and textures. Furthermore, Scriabin, in his symphonic poems, was blending the instrumentation, lighting design, and polyphony together. All these new devices were just tools to enhance the character expression. However, he was still a human feeling similar emotions as any other person ever lived. And I hope to catch them, hidden behind the notes, and express them in sound. Voicing the main melody with the right hand, distancing the middle voice dynamically, and anticipating the downbeat octaves in the low bass register helps balance the piece overall.
Pedaling can make or break this piece. Where do you lean on half-pedal, flutter, or una corda to keep clarity while sustaining the line?
It depends on the piano and acoustics. The outer parts require tre corde, full sound, pedal change after new harmony comes up. The middle, lyrical section from measure 17 to measure 26 may benefit from using the una corda because of its drastic dynamic and character change.
In the middle section’s “feather-light filigree,” how do you shape rubato so it breathes without losing the etude’s inexorable drive?
I love this section. What helped me was listening to Horowitz and Scriabin recordings. I was looking for specific “direction notes” to which the melody is aiming. For example, quarter-note octaves in the right hand: G-sharp (m.19), E-natural (m.21), F-sharp (m.23), etc. The left hand in this section keeps playing the same rhythmic pattern as in the beginning, so it, kind of, prevents taking too much time while pushing the piece forward.
Take us into the studio: which piano, room, mics, and placement did you choose, and what sonic character were you chasing in the final mix/master?
I recorded it in Boston using my digital recorder that I used (and still use) all the time. During the COVID times at my school we had an online class exploring different types of microphones as well as an introduction to audio recording. It was necessary for online recitals back then. Concerning the recording itself, the most difficult part was to find an available quiet room with a decently tuned piano. I remember, it was recorded on a Yamaha grand piano. I set up the X/Y stereo condenser mic about 8 feet away and approximately 8 feet high from the piano with open lid. When I started playing, it was amazing how bright and resonant it sounded in the relatively large space. I did like it! The most intense moments had a sort of metallic, sparking sound. This was one of the moments when the piano helped to express the character.
You’ve performed the work live in Miami and Boston. What interpretive adjustments do you make for the hall—acoustics, audience energy, and instrument response—versus the controlled setting of a recording?
I performed this piece in Boston, San Juan, and Miami. The acoustics matter a lot. I personally like to perform in front of smaller audiences. I feel like it helps the artist and the listener to focus more on the sound rather than on the environment. There are fewer distractions: coughs, fuss, phone sounds, etc. A larger audience in larger halls forces attention to reverb and echo. Sometimes it urges me to play with substantial power which could easily kill the lyrical character. If I ever have a chance to record a run-through rehearsal—I would absolutely do it days before the actual concert.
You grew up in Ukraine and are now based in Miami. How do those cultural and geographic journeys surface in your sound world and repertoire choices?
My repertoire consists of music by Rachmaninoff, Tchaikovsky, Schumann, and Beethoven. I grew up playing pieces of these composers: first recitals, first difficulties, first piano teacher. It all matters. Exposure to Romantic music in childhood, in my case, shaped my preferences today. I still remember pieces I performed as a kid: Rachmaninoff Prelude Op. 23 No. 5, Tchaikovsky White Nights, Beethoven Sonata Op. 13 (“Pathétique”), and so on. I do like music by Bach, Bartók, Mozart, Schönberg, and others, but I cannot say I completely understand it yet. Memories from childhood play a big role in shaping the musician.
Your teachers—Max Levinson and Tian Ying—shaped your studies. What interpretive or technical principles from each of them echo most in this Scriabin?
I worked on this piece with Professor Max Levinson during my studies in Boston. He helped me to balance voicing in the lyrical section, to apply certain fingering that made possible the legato of the right-hand octaves, to feel the direction of the overall piece. I am extremely grateful for his guidance and patience!
Beyond solo work, you collaborate widely—winds, strings, voice, opera, wind ensemble. How has chamber and orchestral playing refined your touch, timing, and color at the piano?
Chamber practice is essential for realizing the difficulty of sound balance on the stage as well as timing. Collaboration teaches sharing the tentative moments. It also exposes pianists to different timbres and frequently asks to mimic those timbres at the piano (string pizzicato, vocal bel canto, string breathing legato, percussion bells, and many more). Of course, each instrument has its own strong and weak sides: volume, tuning, duration of sound, sound quality, etc. Working with vocalists, string and wind players as well as other pianists helped me to develop my musical ear. Always listening!
You’ve spoken at conferences on free improvisation and on teaching students with special needs. How do those research interests inform your practicing and pedagogy today?
I noticed that there is no universal way of learning. Every student is different. I would say maintaining the balance between speaking and listening during the lesson is crucial as well as asking a student to make conscious musical choices (even if they may be incorrect). I encourage my students to experiment with dynamic choices and embellishments on repeats. Teaching, in fact, works both ways. They learn from me, I learn from them. Anything I say to my students I apply to myself.
Walk us through a typical practice day preparing Op. 8 No. 12: warm-ups, slow practice ratios, sectional drilling, and how you prevent overuse injuries during octave work.
Slow legato practice with flexible hands with moderate pressure on fingers. I play a 5–10 minute warm-up with different techniques to prepare my fingers and my ears for this piece.
Which edition of the score do you favor, and did you consult manuscript sources or historical recordings to inform voicing, articulation, or ossia choices?
I did carefully listen to Scriabin’s recording. There are certainly some individual choices with tempo and dynamics. I see that what mattered to him the most was a passionate, fiery character. Considering the type of recording equipment back then, it is still impressive to notice the slight volume changes as well as the sound unity of the piece. It seems to be performed “in one breath.” I prefer Horowitz’s live recording—still passionate but under full control, with a clear middle section that just carries the listener away. His culmination build-up is mesmerizing. I can feel the piano exploding under his fingers during fff. I did use the Muzgiz Edition from 1947 with some editor’s notes on dynamics. Very useful!
Performance psychology: what routines help you manage adrenaline so the piece remains expressive rather than purely athletic on stage?
Breathing and careful listening. I add some dynamics changes as well as some agogic accents which are not written by the composer, but I believe they contribute to the character development. I imagine the inner candle-lit dream slowly turning into the burning fire consuming the world.
Many listeners hear “struggle vs. triumph” in this etude. What single musical decision in your recording best expresses that dialectic?
The “struggle” episode, I believe, lies in mm. 44–48 with substantial development of dynamics finally resulting in a “triumph”-like statement in mm. 49–50. The latter resembles the revolutionary dotted-rhythm motive all the way from the beginning of the piece.
You’ve earned top prizes in several 2025 competitions. How has the competition circuit influenced your artistic priorities—repertoire, pacing, and programming vision?
It helped. It showed what worked and what didn’t. There are some pieces that one performs better when playing for the audience and other pieces turn out better while playing only for oneself/recording. In addition to Scriabin, I really like Beethoven, Rachmaninoff, and Schumann. Their music feels closer to me than music by Mozart, Debussy, or Liszt. It is more inner-oriented, more painful, more difficult emotionally. I feel I need it. In general, competitions taught me to prioritize emotional clarity over virtuosity.
Miami’s Frost School ecosystem is rich with ensembles and new music. Are there contemporary Ukrainian or American composers you’re eager to champion next?
There are some contemporary pieces by American, Canadian, Turkish, and Russian-Israeli composers I am learning now. Really cool music, sometimes with extended piano techniques. It is a surprise.
Looking ahead, do you envision a Scriabin project (e.g., selected etudes/preludes), or a contrasting program—perhaps pairing Scriabin with Rachmaninoff, Debussy, or Ukrainian composers like Silvestrov?
It is very difficult to memorize Scriabin music. I may consider combining Scriabin, Rachmaninoff, Tchaikovsky, and Mussorgsky repertoire for thematic recitals. I like the idea of Romanticism in Russian music. It could be quite interesting.
If a young pianist asks for one piece of advice about learning Op. 8 No. 12, what do you tell them to focus on first—and what should they save for last?
It is a challenging piece. It takes time to combine hands together and balance the middle section. Practicing the left hand separately is a must. The piece becomes more flexible in rubato, voicing, and dynamics when both hands know their parts independently. I would also recommend listening to recordings of great masters and trying to understand their choice of rubato and dynamics, which sometimes could seem contrary to what’s written.
In Ustiuhov’s hands, Scriabin’s D-sharp minor etude is more than a showpiece; it’s an inner weather system—storm and solace intertwined. The technique is formidable, yes, but it’s the human voltage behind it—the long arc from Kyiv to Miami, from childhood repertoire to present convictions—that makes this reading feel necessary now.
