Thirty years. Three decades of music, life, and gratitude. Looking back, it’s astonishing how fast time passes, yet every day has been a new chance to learn, improve, and grow. Growth, I have realized, never truly ends. The day we stop learning, we truly begin to age—not in years, but in spirit. And throughout my journey as a musician, I have been incredibly fortunate to never stop learning, guided by extraordinary individuals whose presence shaped not only my voice but my understanding of life, art, and humanity. 

From nearly every artist I have collaborated with, I have learned something. From some, I have learned a great deal. But among them, a select few have been true mentors, igniting in me a fire that still burns today. That fire is not just about music; it is about passion, resilience, discipline, and the courage to pursue beauty, even when the path is uncertain and the world’s gaze is unrelenting. 

I remember Amos Martellacci, my tutor and mentor throughout my academic life, guiding me patiently until I completed my law degree. Though not a music teacher, he taught me the importance of discipline, focus, and integrity—values that would later underpin everything I did on stage. Then there was my first vocal teacher, Luciano Bettarini, whose lessons went far beyond technical exercises. From him, I learned the discipline, patience, and rigor required in singing, the understanding that mastery is not only about talent but also about consistent, deliberate practice. 

And then there was Franco Corelli—perhaps not a formal instructor, but a living legend whose presence alone was a lesson in artistry. Observing him, I learned about charisma, stage presence, and the way music can touch hearts without uttering a single word. He inspired me to approach every note with emotion, to understand that singing is as much about storytelling as it is about technique. 

Alongside these mentors, I have had the privilege to work with incomparable colleagues. Luciano Pavarotti, whose effortless voice seemed to flow like water, taught me the beauty of simplicity in singing. He showed me that sometimes, less is more, and that a performance’s greatest power lies in sincerity and connection with the audience. Plácido Domingo, extraordinary both on stage and in his approach as a conductor, revealed the importance of versatility and dedication. And conductors like Zubin Mehta and Lorin Maazel taught me the subtle balance between emotion and precision, the art of collaboration, and the importance of listening—to both music and the people around you. 

Through these experiences, the fire that was kindled so many years ago continues to guide me. It is a flame that illuminates my path not only as an artist but also as a human being navigating life’s complexities. I guard this fire, renew it daily, and whenever possible, pass it on to those who will follow, hoping they too find their own spark in music and life. 

Reflecting on thirty years of performing, I realize that music is not just performance. It is connection, a universal language that transcends borders, languages, and even time. Every concert, every note, every collaboration has been a chance to grow, to connect, and to leave something meaningful behind. Yet, none of this would have been possible without the mentorship, guidance, and inspiration of those who walked this path before me. 

Even today, I find myself thinking of moments of personal struggle, the doubts and fears that accompany a life in the spotlight. Behind the grandeur of concert halls and the applause of thousands, there are hours of practice, moments of self-reflection, and an inner dialogue that pushes me to do better, to reach higher. It is in these quiet moments, often unseen by anyone, that the fire burns brightest. This is where discipline meets passion, where experience transforms into wisdom, and where music becomes a reflection of life itself.

Looking back, I feel immense gratitude for the mentors who shaped me: Amos Martellacci, Luciano Bettarini, Franco Corelli, and colleagues like Luciano Pavarotti, Plácido Domingo, Zubin Mehta, and Lorin Maazel. Each has left an indelible mark, lighting fires that continue to burn, guiding me not just in my craft but in my understanding of dedication, humility, and the pursuit of beauty.

As I celebrate thirty years of music, I am reminded that the journey continues. There is always something to learn, someone to inspire, and a fire to pass on. Music is more than notes and performances; it is a living, breathing force that connects souls, illuminates hearts, and carries a legacy far beyond the stage. Thirty years have passed, yet the fire continues to burn—bright, relentless, and full of hope.