"I found a greater identity with my own emotions in the Armenian culture as I grew older, as well as from the beginning, although I didn't know anything about it"
About this Quote
It is the kind of sentence that sounds modest until you notice the quiet audacity in it: identity arriving first as feeling, only later as knowledge. Hovhaness isn’t claiming a tidy heritage narrative or a scholarly rediscovery of roots. He’s describing something more slippery and, for an artist, more authoritative: the sense that a culture can recognize you before you recognize it.
The key move is the temporal doubling - “as I grew older” paired with “from the beginning.” He’s arguing that Armenian culture functioned like a latent language in his emotional life, present as intuition long before it became information. That’s a direct rebuke to the modern suspicion that identity is either purely constructed or purely inherited. For Hovhaness, it’s embodied: an emotional syntax that pre-exists biography.
The subtext matters because of who he was. An American composer working in the 20th century, he lived inside a classical music world that prized European lineages and, at times, treated “ethnic” material as color or novelty. His phrasing refuses the tourist version of cultural influence. He isn’t borrowing Armenian elements to exoticize his sound; he’s framing them as a homecoming to interior truth, a justification for why those modes, melodies, and spiritual atmospheres belong in his work without apology.
The final clause - “although I didn’t know anything about it” - lands like a provocation to gatekeepers. It suggests that legitimacy isn’t only archived in language fluency or institutional approval. Sometimes it’s lodged in what music has always trafficked in: emotion that knows its origin even when the mind doesn’t.
The key move is the temporal doubling - “as I grew older” paired with “from the beginning.” He’s arguing that Armenian culture functioned like a latent language in his emotional life, present as intuition long before it became information. That’s a direct rebuke to the modern suspicion that identity is either purely constructed or purely inherited. For Hovhaness, it’s embodied: an emotional syntax that pre-exists biography.
The subtext matters because of who he was. An American composer working in the 20th century, he lived inside a classical music world that prized European lineages and, at times, treated “ethnic” material as color or novelty. His phrasing refuses the tourist version of cultural influence. He isn’t borrowing Armenian elements to exoticize his sound; he’s framing them as a homecoming to interior truth, a justification for why those modes, melodies, and spiritual atmospheres belong in his work without apology.
The final clause - “although I didn’t know anything about it” - lands like a provocation to gatekeepers. It suggests that legitimacy isn’t only archived in language fluency or institutional approval. Sometimes it’s lodged in what music has always trafficked in: emotion that knows its origin even when the mind doesn’t.
Quote Details
| Topic | Nostalgia |
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