Leonid Ovrutsky
The Music of Inner Freedom
Imagine a planetarium dome, dusted with thousands of shimmering stars, and music that gently seeps into the deepest corners of your consciousness.
This is the world of Leonid Ovrutsky — a place where art becomes therapy, and every note serves as a guide into the depths of the soul.
A charismatic musician, composer, and producer, Leonid has crafted a unique path of personal transformation through music.
In this exclusive interview, he shares his philosophy, reflects on the silent power of an audience holding its breath, and explains how music can become a feeling of home for those who’ve lost their bearings — a way to restore joy and meaning.
This is the world of Leonid Ovrutsky — a place where art becomes therapy, and every note serves as a guide into the depths of the soul.
A charismatic musician, composer, and producer, Leonid has crafted a unique path of personal transformation through music.
In this exclusive interview, he shares his philosophy, reflects on the silent power of an audience holding its breath, and explains how music can become a feeling of home for those who’ve lost their bearings — a way to restore joy and meaning.
When I first started out, music was all about self-expression. I wanted to show the world who I was, to say something personal.
Over time, I realized that music isn’t just about me — it’s about those who listen. Now, what matters to me most is not how beautiful or technically polished a piece is, but whether it touches something within a person. Music should heal, support, and give strength. It has the power to guide people toward something deeply meaningful.
Over time, I realized that music isn’t just about me — it’s about those who listen. Now, what matters to me most is not how beautiful or technically polished a piece is, but whether it touches something within a person. Music should heal, support, and give strength. It has the power to guide people toward something deeply meaningful.
Music was always part of my life. My parents were graduates of the Leningrad Conservatory, and I studied at the Sveshnikov Music College.
But as often happens when you grow up in a musical environment, you don’t immediately recognize it as your own path. I even questioned it — Why didn’t they push me into science? Why am I not in business like my sister?
We often run from our calling until it catches up with us.
That moment for me came when I realized music wasn’t just a profession — it was encoded in me. Later, I learned that I had composers in my lineage: Vasily Pavlovich Solovyov-Sedoy and Leonid Raab, who worked in Hollywood. And then it all clicked. I couldn’t ignore it anymore.
But as often happens when you grow up in a musical environment, you don’t immediately recognize it as your own path. I even questioned it — Why didn’t they push me into science? Why am I not in business like my sister?
We often run from our calling until it catches up with us.
That moment for me came when I realized music wasn’t just a profession — it was encoded in me. Later, I learned that I had composers in my lineage: Vasily Pavlovich Solovyov-Sedoy and Leonid Raab, who worked in Hollywood. And then it all clicked. I couldn’t ignore it anymore.
"Kvatro" is not just a vocal ensemble but it’s a space where music fills people with energy and joy. Over two decades, hundreds of thousands have come to our concerts, and for many, it’s become a tradition, it’s kind of ritual to return again and again for those emotions.
When we sing, we create an atmosphere where people can forget the daily rush, release their worries, and feel truly alive — fully present in the moment.
We see it in their faces — they arrive tense, weighed down by thoughts, and leave with a light in their eyes. Music isn’t just sound. It’s a state of being. And to me, the highest goal is for someone to walk away from a concert feeling better than when they came in.
When we sing, we create an atmosphere where people can forget the daily rush, release their worries, and feel truly alive — fully present in the moment.
We see it in their faces — they arrive tense, weighed down by thoughts, and leave with a light in their eyes. Music isn’t just sound. It’s a state of being. And to me, the highest goal is for someone to walk away from a concert feeling better than when they came in.
This project is not about showing off. It’s about the listener.
I never wanted the artist to be more important than the audience. What matters isn’t who stands on the stage, but what the listener feels in that moment.That’s why, in this project, we ask the audience not to applaud during the performance.It might seem unusual, but it’s essential: by minimizing external noise, we give people a chance to go inside.
I never wanted the artist to be more important than the audience. What matters isn’t who stands on the stage, but what the listener feels in that moment.That’s why, in this project, we ask the audience not to applaud during the performance.It might seem unusual, but it’s essential: by minimizing external noise, we give people a chance to go inside.
Many underestimate the power of family. To me, it’s what truly fills you up. I’m lucky, my wife taught me what it means to love deeply. We have a big family: two grown kids and two little ones and every day with them is a new story, new emotions, new discoveries. Family is where you learn attentiveness, care, and humanity and of course, it deeply influences your art.
My daughter, for example, taught me something good about communication especially with women. When she’s upset, she doesn’t need explanations or long talks. All she needs is for me to walk over and hug her.
That’s when I understood: I can embrace people not only physically, but through my music and my voice.
When I sing with sincerity, that too is an embrace. Music can give people a sense of warmth and home — something often more meaningful than words.
My daughter, for example, taught me something good about communication especially with women. When she’s upset, she doesn’t need explanations or long talks. All she needs is for me to walk over and hug her.
That’s when I understood: I can embrace people not only physically, but through my music and my voice.
When I sing with sincerity, that too is an embrace. Music can give people a sense of warmth and home — something often more meaningful than words.
The first step is to accept that creative blocks are inevitable. They’re a natural part of the process. In the past, I used to fight it by forcing myself to work but now I see it differently. Sometimes the best thing you can do is to pause and let it go.
Inspiration often finds you when you’re not chasing it while travelling or
conversations, or even a simple shift of focus. Physical activity helps too — after a good workout, the mind clears up. But the most important thing is reminding yourself: it’s temporary. Inspiration always comes back. Music always returns.
Inspiration often finds you when you’re not chasing it while travelling or
conversations, or even a simple shift of focus. Physical activity helps too — after a good workout, the mind clears up. But the most important thing is reminding yourself: it’s temporary. Inspiration always comes back. Music always returns.
How has your perception of music evolved since the beginning of your career?
Do you remember the moment you realized music was your true calling?
You’ve been on stage for more than 20 years and are the producer behind the vocal group "Kvatro." Tell us about the project.
Your project "Eight Stories Under the Stars" is often described as something between meditation and therapy. What is the message of it?
How does your family influence your creativity? Are there moments when your loved ones spark inspiration?
How do you manage creative blocks?Do you have rituals or methods that help?
When you look at the stars, you don’t ask who lit them. You simply feel.