Armenian interdisciplinary artist Tigran Hamasyan has long been known for his profound ability to blend past and present in ways that resonate with audiences worldwide. His latest project, The Bird of a Thousand Voices, goes beyond the bounds of a typical album; it’s an ambitious, multi-dimensional experience involving music, a documentary, a video game, and visual artwork. Through this intricate project, Hamasyan reimagines an ancient Armenian legend, using it to address pressing contemporary issues while celebrating Armenia's deep-rooted sound culture and spiritual legacy.

The Legend Behind the Bird

The Bird of a Thousand Voices draws on an ancient Armenian folktale a coming-of-age journey that speaks to universal themes of connection, harmony, and resilience. The story of the mythical bird with countless voices becomes a metaphor for a modern world struggling with ecological, psychological, and spiritual challenges. By reviving this tale, Hamasyan hopes to keep the essence of Armenian culture alive, especially as Armenia faces political pressures that threaten its cultural heritage. In particular, Hamasyan’s work highlights how historical sites and writings in Armenia are under threat, as neighboring Azerbaijan has ordered the destruction of Armenian manuscripts and monasteries.

In bringing this ancient tale to life, Hamasyan emphasizes its relevance to today’s world, drawing parallels between the myth’s themes of courage and forgiveness and the inner journeys required of individuals and societies today.

A Duality of Tradition and Innovation

The Bird of a Thousand Voices spans 24 compositions, blending Armenian traditional music with a sweeping array of genres, including prog metal, ambient electronica, jazz, and ethereal pop. "It’s almost like a modern opera," he explains. Each track is grounded in the melodic language of Armenian folk music, but it’s amplified with electronic synths, cinematic soundscapes, and striking improvisational elements. This is no easy feat, requiring Hamasyan to navigate the delicate balance between tradition and innovation.

His sound, heavily synthesized yet “orchestral,” carries listeners into ancient Armenia, evoking melodies that could have existed during the times of kingdoms like Aratta and Hayasa. Hamasyan shares, “I tried to channel ‘new Armenian melodies,’ some imagined melodies that could have been written in very ancient times.” The fusion of old and new, he notes, is a way to honor his ancestors and the enduring spirit of Armenia.

The Soundscape and Ensemble

Hamasyan’s compositions shine with the energy of a live ensemble. Joining him on the album are close collaborators, including drummer Nate Wood, vocalist Areni Agbabian, bassist Mark Karapetian, and guest vocalists Sofia Jernberg and Vahram Sarkissian. Wood, who Hamasyan considers a “musical brother,” is featured prominently in the project. Their creative synergy dates back to 2008, and their bond brings a visceral quality to the recordings.

The recording process was intense and emotionally charged, completed just as the pandemic hit, which added a surreal edge to the sessions. “We tracked everything live in 4 days,” Hamasyan recalls. "On the 3rd day, March 11, 2020, we heard on the news that the world was closing down." After Wood returned to New York, Hamasyan found himself isolated, recording the remaining parts on his own. His mastery of Ableton allowed him to weave together the contributions from collaborators around the world, creating a tapestry of sounds that feel both intimate and grand.

Beyond Music: A Multimedia Experience

Each facet of the project serves to deepen the narrative. The documentary delves into the recording process and Hamasyan’s inspirations, offering audiences a behind-the-scenes view of the project’s creation. The accompanying video game, meanwhile, allows players to interact with the mythical bird’s journey, immersing them in the legend’s landscapes and themes. The visual artwork, influenced by Armenian motifs and Hamasyan’s interpretation of ancient mythology, brings the tale to life in a new way, presenting the mythical bird as a timeless icon of resilience and transformation.

A Symbolic Message for Today

At its core, The Bird of a Thousand Voices is a call for harmony, unity, and courage. Hamasyan sees the bird’s journey as a reminder that true growth often requires confronting the darker aspects of ourselves and our societies. “I hope that this tale will bring love and, most importantly, forgiveness to people’s hearts,” he says. By taking the "perilous path" to discover and unleash the bird’s voice, Hamasyan suggests that each of us can help heal our fragmented world.

This November 17, he will premiere The Bird of a Thousand Voices at London’s Cadogan Hall as part of the EFG London Jazz Festival, inviting the world to experience a story that transcends borders and time.

Thank you for joining us today Tigran, can you tell us about how this idea originated and how you collaborated with Ruben Van Leer to bring the ancient Armenian folk tale Hazaran Blbul to life?

When I first read this ancient Armenian tale, which was handed down to us mainly through oral tradition, where these great storytellers would gather people around the fire and tell the big mythic/universal stories, I really felt the story resonating with the world where I live now, and I felt this sense of eternity and timelessness in it. When I was getting close to finishing the recording of the music, I called Ruben Van Leer and told him about the story with great excitement. I did a rough translation of a version of the story and sent it to him along with some music. As we worked on the staged piece, other artistic ideas slowly started developing, and soon enough it turned into a multi-faceted transmedia project. Ruben and I really became partners in creation; we really lived and breathed this tale. Ruben, with his production company truth.io, really got involved in all the different aspects of bringing this tale to a worldwide audience through transmedia music theatre, an online video game, a documentary-style video clip, and an upcoming short film.

For this, we gathered together a group of artists and created a strong artistic team. For example, he involved the amazing scenographer Boris Acket, dramaturg Florian Helwig, clothing designer Anna Marija Van Harten, and others for the staged piece, and I brought in Karen Mirzoyan to direct the album artwork, illustrator Khoren Matevosian, photographer Vahan Stepanyan, and more.

How did you adapt the music for a live performance setting, and what role do the visual elements play in the audience's experience?

Areni Agbabian, who is a singer and keyboardist, also has a second role in the staged piece—she is narrating the original story (written by poet Serine) and some special new text written by our dramaturg Florian Helwig. Sometimes she represents a mother telling a bedtime story to her child, sometimes she is the bird, and at the same time, her musical expression is telling the story on another level. About the visuals: Ruben and Boris ended up creating an atmosphere that makes you feel this idea of the bird that brings spiritual awakening. We really didn’t want to “show the bird” or have a screen on stage. The hero Areg is represented as a source of light.

As an Armenian composer and pianist, how important is it for you to share your heritage with the world, and how does this project contribute to the preservation and evolution of Armenian culture?

I feel like Armenian or any other heritage is really a world heritage. It’s very crucial to understand that thousands-of-years-old cultural traditions and the preservation of them are of utmost importance in our times. After all, all these traditional folk songs and traditional art were created and accompanied specific rites and ceremonies, most of which don’t exist anymore, have lost their meaning, and people don’t understand them anymore. We have forgotten the true meaning of them. For example, in Armenia, up until 100 years ago, the entire process of bread making was accompanied by music: starting from harvest till baking process. It was ceremonial, and each singer created and reflected/projected their inner world into this process until the bread was made. The bread is considered sacred, and even nowadays, it is really considered sacrilegious to throw out bread. How many folk songs are being born at the bakery these days? The answer is pretty much none. Folk arts and music have really become museum artefacts and frozen time capsules, which contain a universe of knowledge that was once alive and being created and improvised every day. I feel like we should at least turn our heads towards it every once in a while, despite what our modern society and values dictate to us.