{"id":50076,"date":"2026-10-29T22:10:53","date_gmt":"2026-10-29T21:10:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/novastan.org\/en\/?p=50076"},"modified":"2026-10-29T22:11:01","modified_gmt":"2026-10-29T21:11:01","slug":"zaraya-tajikistan-electronic-music-hvareya","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/novastan.org\/en\/tajikistan\/zaraya-tajikistan-electronic-music-hvareya\/","title":{"rendered":"ZARAYA: The Tajik electronic artist turning sound into stories"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\n\t
\n\t\t
\n\t\t\t

\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tSupport Novastan, the European Central Asia magazine \n\t\t\t<\/h2>\n\t\t\t\tBy supporting Novastan, you are supporting the only English, French and German-language media specialising in Central Asia. We’re independent and we need your help to stay that way! \n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tSupport Novastan<\/a>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From discovering The Prodigy at seven to building a career as a DJ and releasing her first original track,<\/em> Hvareya, Tajik DJ and producer ZARAYA is building a musical universe where electronic beats meet visual storytelling, cultural memory and a touch of magic. In an interview with Novastan, she discusses her childhood in Dushanbe, her artistic influences, the challenges of Tajikistan’s electronic music scene and her dream of bringing her grandfather’s poetry to life through music.<\/em><\/em><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For ZARAYA, music has never been just about sound. It is also about images, emotions and the stories that unfold in the listener’s imagination. Her artistic world combines an interest in electronic experimentation with a fascination for cinema, visual art and the cultural heritage of her native Tajikistan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Across Central Asia, artists are finding new ways to connect contemporary sounds with their musical heritage. From Uzbekistan’s electronic music scene<\/a> to musicians reimagining traditional instruments<\/a>, these experiments are reshaping the region’s musical landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Having established herself as a DJ, ZARAYA is now exploring a new dimension of her musical career. Her first original release, Hvareya<\/em>, created in collaboration with an international team, marks her transition into music production. Yet her ambitions extend beyond recording tracks or performing at festivals. She dreams of creating immersive experiences in which music, architecture and nature become part of the same artistic expression.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
ZARAYA performing as a DJ. Photograph by Nodira Isoeva.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Novastan: Let’s start with your story. What were you like growing up? What music did you listen to, what interested you, and how did electronic music enter your life? Was there a moment when you realised you wanted to create your own sound?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

ZARAYA:<\/strong> As a child, I was very active. I played tennis competitively, loved socialising and animals, and dreamed of becoming an archaeologist. Apparently, even then, I was fascinated by the prospect of discovering something unusual and figuring out how on earth it had ended up on this planet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I started listening to The Prodigy when I was seven. That was my first encounter with electronic music, and their sound completely captivated me. It turned out to be a serious love affair: many years have passed, and we’re still together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then came Radiohead, Nirvana and Eminem. My musical tastes have never been particularly disciplined when it comes to genres. I was drawn to complex, strange and unexpected compositions – music that leaves you slightly bewildered at first, but makes you want to listen again. While my classmates were listening to what everyone else was listening to, I was usually discovering something different. I think I simply had my own internal radio receiver, tuned to a rather unusual frequency.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I didn’t study music systematically, although I remember my uncle teaching me to play the piano. At the time, I had no idea how important music would eventually become in my life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DJing began as a hobby. Then the hobby apparently decided it liked living with me and gradually started taking up more and more space. Eventually, I had to be honest with myself: either I took it seriously or it was time to stop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I wanted to go further and create something of my own. That’s how I gradually moved into music production. I no longer wanted only to share other artists’ music, but also to express my own thoughts and feelings through sound. I discovered that music can sometimes reveal far more about a person than even the most detailed autobiography. And, rather conveniently, you can play it on repeat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In October, you released Hvareya<\/em>, your first original track, developed with an international team. What does this composition mean to you personally? What did you feel when you first heard the finished version and realised it would now belong to your listeners as well?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hvareya<\/em> is much more than my first musical release. It represents my first independent step as a music producer. Its title is connected to an ancient Avestan word associated with the sun and light. I feel particularly close to this symbolism: the sun as a source of energy, life, movement and renewal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But what matters most to me is the character of the composition itself. When I first heard the finished version, I experienced a very unusual feeling. It was as though I were hearing myself from the outside. Not my voice, not my thoughts, but my own personality translated into the language of music.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What surprised me most happened afterwards. People who know me well began saying, “Zarina, that’s you! That’s exactly your personality!” For me, that was one of the most meaningful compliments I could receive. It meant I had managed to communicate something genuine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Of course, releasing your first composition is quite an emotional experience. As long as the music exists only in your head or in the studio, it belongs to you. But the moment you release it into the world, it begins a life of its own. You can no longer control who hears it, what they feel or which memories they associate with it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It’s a little like sending your own thoughts travelling around the world without adult supervision. But perhaps that’s precisely where the beauty of music lies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The visual side of your work is particularly striking. Your Instagram videos show a strong sense of atmosphere, imagery and aesthetics. How important is ZARAYA’s visual identity? Do you develop these concepts yourself, and how would you describe your aesthetic in three words?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For me, music has never existed separately from the visual world. When I hear a composition, images, colours, movements and sometimes entire stories appear almost immediately in my mind. Apparently, my imagination simply refuses to operate in one dimension.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I love art, cinema, unusual imagery and aesthetics that retain a little mystery. I like it when a beautiful image conceals something more than the simple desire to look beautiful. Beauty without a story is a little like a lavishly wrapped gift with nothing inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I develop my own concepts, thinking carefully about the mood, imagery and details. It’s important to me that the visual side of my work doesn’t merely accompany the music, but continues its story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For example, the cover of my debut track was created by the wonderful Tajik artist Mizrob Kholov. It features the sun, light, a dreamy heroine and the feeling of a fairytale world. I’m drawn to that atmosphere, where reality intertwines with fantasy and familiar things suddenly take on entirely different meanings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I like leaving room for the viewer’s own imagination. Not explaining every last detail, not handing out an instruction manual for art. Let everyone see something of their own.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If I had to describe ZARAYA’s aesthetic in three words, I’d choose elegance, mystery and artistry. Although I must admit I’d add a little magic too. But that would make four words, and I do try to respect the rules. At least sometimes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Which artists, DJs and producers have shaped your musical tastes? What are you listening to these days, and are there any unexpected influences your audience might not know about?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My musical tastes have never been particularly strict about genres. I’ve always been drawn to artists who don’t try to be agreeable, predictable or universally liked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Among electronic musicians, I feel particularly close to DJ Koze, Jos\u00e9 Solano, Thierry Tomas and Nikita Grib. I love DJ Koze for his musical unpredictability, subtle irony and remarkable ability to turn the strange into something beautiful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’ve always liked artists who allow themselves a little musical madness. Within reason, of course. Although who gets to decide where those limits are?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jos\u00e9 Solano, Thierry Tomas and Nikita Grib also hold a special place in my playlists. I’m drawn to interesting rhythms, unconventional musical choices, atmospheric sounds and the state of mind a good electronic track can transport you into.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I love music that leaves room for the imagination. Music that doesn’t dictate how you should feel, but lets you embark on your own journey. Sometimes that journey takes a rather strange turn, but those are usually the ones you remember best.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That said, I certainly don’t limit myself to electronic music. I might listen to rock, hip-hop, something melancholic or something completely unexpected. Sometimes my playlists look as though they were put together by several people with entirely different personalities. But we all get along beautifully.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For me, what matters most in music is individuality and emotion. I want to hear an artist’s personality and feel their inner world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I think the worst thing that can happen to a creative person is to wake up one day convinced they’ve heard everything, understood everything and have nothing left to be surprised by.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The name<\/strong> Hvareya<\/strong><\/em> refers to ancient Avestan symbolism associated with the sun and light. How do your Tajik roots, cultural heritage and personal memories influence your creativity? Are there particular sounds, traditions or places from Tajikistan you’d like to explore through music?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was born and raised in Dushanbe, and of course Tajikistan is an enormous part of who I am. Even when I’m not consciously thinking about it, my roots always find a way to remind me they’re there. Cultural memory has this remarkable habit of slipping into your creative work without asking permission.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For me, Tajikistan isn’t just mountains, ancient history and beautiful traditions. Above all, it’s a collection of sensations: the light, the air, the smells, the voices, the memories of childhood. Things you can’t pack into a suitcase, yet somehow always carry with you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’ve always been drawn to the ancient symbolism of the sun and light. I love the idea that cultural images can find entirely new forms of expression, even thousands of years later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But there’s another, much more personal story that I’d love to bring to life through music one day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My grandfather, Fayzullo Habibullo, was a writer, and I dream of creating an electronic track featuring his poetry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For me, it wouldn’t simply be a musical experiment, but a kind of conversation with him across time. His words and my music. Two generations, two completely different ways of expressing emotions, brought together in a single piece.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My grandfather probably never imagined that his poetry might one day meet electronic synthesisers and basslines. But I’d like to believe he’d be curious to hear the result.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’d also love to experiment with traditional Tajik instruments, melodies and rhythms one day. But not for the sake of exoticism, or simply to add a touch of national colour. It matters to me that it feels organic, contemporary and sincere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I don’t want to simply recreate the past. I’m more interested in having a conversation with it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After all, cultural heritage isn’t a museum exhibit to be kept behind glass. It’s a living story, and every generation has the right to tell it in its own language.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And if my grandfather’s poetry one day finds its way into one of my electronic compositions, it won’t be just another track for me. It will be a meeting that could never happen in real life, but that music might somehow make possible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
ZARAYA explores visual storytelling and cultural influences in her artistic work. Photograph by Zumrad Normatova.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Electronic music comes alive not only through headphones but also on the dancefloor. What do you feel when performing for an audience? Do you prefer intimate clubs, large festivals or something entirely different? And what would your dream ZARAYA party look like?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Performing is always a special moment for me. You can spend as much time as you like preparing, choosing tracks and planning transitions, but the moment you step in front of an audience, an entirely different story begins. And it doesn’t always follow the script.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The music stops belonging to you alone. It becomes something shared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I love watching how people’s energy changes. Sometimes all it takes is one track, one unexpected transition, to completely transform the atmosphere. In those moments, you feel an extraordinary connection with complete strangers. You might speak different languages or live on different continents, but suddenly you’re all on the same musical wavelength.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It’s a little like telepathy. Except instead of reading minds, you’ve got a mixing desk and a good bassline.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’m drawn to places with a special atmosphere. It doesn’t matter whether it’s a small club or a huge festival. What matters is the energy, the people and that feeling that music really does bring everyone together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As for my dream ZARAYA party, I’d love to hold it somewhere truly unusual. Perhaps high up in the mountains, surrounded by majestic landscapes, or in an ancient palace whose walls have witnessed centuries of human stories.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’m fascinated by the idea of bringing contemporary electronic music together with nature, history and architecture. Imagine an ancient palace, soft lighting, unusual visual installations and music gradually filling the space. Or mountains, an open sky, a sunset and melodies that seem to follow the movement of the wind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I love it when a place becomes more than just a backdrop and takes on a life of its own as part of the experience. When a space has its own character and history.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’d want a party like that to be more than just a dance event. I’d want it to be a real journey – visual, musical and emotional. For people to leave not only with beautiful photographs, but with the feeling that they’d stepped into another world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
ZARAYA behind the decks. Credits: ZARAYA.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What about the music scene around you? Are there artists in Tajikistan or elsewhere in Central Asia whose work you admire or with whom you’d like to collaborate? What challenges have you encountered while building a career in electronic music in Tajikistan?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I think Central Asia’s music scene is going through a particularly exciting period. More and more artists are finding their own voice, experimenting with sound and refusing to stay within familiar boundaries.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Among musicians from our region, I feel particularly drawn to Saya Musa and Daler Nazarov. I love their sound, their individuality and their deep connection to cultural heritage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What attracts me to Saya Musa’s music is its atmosphere, her expressive vocals and the subtle way she blends traditional influences with a contemporary musical sensibility. And for me, Daler Nazarov is an artist with a truly distinctive style. You can feel the history, poetry and soul of Tajikistan in his music.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Neither of them belongs to the electronic music scene, but that doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I’ve always believed that inspiration shouldn’t have to show its passport at the borders between musical genres. It would be rather boring if electronic musicians only drew inspiration from other electronic musicians.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’d love to work one day with artists who have such a deep and intuitive connection to their cultural roots, and explore ways of bringing different musical worlds together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As for Tajikistan’s electronic music scene, I think it has enormous potential, although its infrastructure is still taking shape. There aren’t many venues or opportunities here to perform original electronic music.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Starting a career here is a little like trying to grow a tropical plant in the mountains. You need patience, perseverance and a certain amount of optimism.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Besides, DJing is often seen as nothing more than entertainment. But developing your own sound involves hours of work, exploration, doubt, learning and countless decisions that listeners may never even notice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For me, one of the biggest challenges was deciding to turn a passion into a serious artistic pursuit. When you play other people’s music, the audience judges your taste. When you release your own, it’s as though you’re revealing a part of yourself to the world. And that’s an entirely different level of vulnerability.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’m gradually learning not to measure the value of my music by the number of positive reactions it receives. There will always be people who love what you do and others who don’t understand it. That’s perfectly normal. Art rarely wins unanimous approval anyway. Otherwise, it would risk turning into the minutes of a meeting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’d like to believe that Central Asia has a fascinating musical future ahead of it. Our region has its own stories, melodies and traditions that truly deserve to be shared with the world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You’re at the beginning of your journey as a music producer. How would you like ZARAYA to develop over the next few years? Are there musical directions, collaborations or artistic projects you’re particularly excited to explore? And what can listeners expect after<\/strong> Hvareya<\/strong><\/em>?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I try not to plan too far ahead, although unfortunately my imagination is absolutely hopeless at respecting such restrictions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’d love ZARAYA to become a recognisable musical project in a few years’ time, with its own sound, visual language and personality.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Right now, I feel particularly drawn to melodic house, but I don’t want to turn a musical genre into a cage, however beautiful it might be, even one with excellent acoustics.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’m attracted to unusual sound textures, interesting rhythms, atmospheric melodies and unexpected combinations. I love music that gradually unfolds, creates a mood and leaves room for the imagination. Music where a track becomes more than just a sequence of sounds – a little story in its own right.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’d love to experiment with live instruments, voices, sounds from nature and unconventional musical structures. To explore unexpected combinations and gradually expand my own musical language.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’m also keen to develop ZARAYA’s visual universe. I dream of projects that bring music together with cinema, painting, architecture and nature. Of course, I’d also love to perform at international festivals, collaborate with inspiring artists and gradually build an audience in different countries.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But my biggest dream isn’t simply to make it onto a big stage. I want to get there with my own sound, personality and artistic universe. I want people to recognise ZARAYA not from a name on a poster, but from the very first notes of a track.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What comes next? New discoveries, experiments, perhaps some unexpected musical turns. I’m not ready to reveal all my ideas just yet. Some are only beginning to take shape, while others may not even know what they want to become.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’m only just beginning my journey. And to be honest, I’m curious myself to see what comes next. Some stories are better left untold until the time comes. Especially when, one day, you might be able to hear them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n

Listen to ZARAYA’s music on<\/em> YouTube<\/em><\/a> or via her<\/em> streaming platforms<\/em><\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Interview conducted by Novastan English. Translated from Russian and edited for clarity and length.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By Mathieu Lemoine, Editor-in-Chief for Novastan English, and Maya Ivanova, Deputy Editor-in-Chief.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Tajik DJ and producer ZARAYA discusses her debut track Hvareya, her musical influences, the poetry of her grandfather and her ambitions to bring Tajikistan’s cultural heritage into the world of electronic music.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":358,"featured_media":50085,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[4670,4939,6],"tags":[5170,5169,5171,3979,5168],"coauthors":[358],"class_list":["post-50076","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-culture-sports","category-interview","category-tajikistan","tag-electronic-music","tag-hvareya","tag-music-production","tag-tajikistan","tag-zaraya"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/novastan.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50076","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/novastan.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/novastan.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novastan.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/358"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novastan.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=50076"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/novastan.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50076\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":50103,"href":"https:\/\/novastan.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50076\/revisions\/50103"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novastan.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/50085"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/novastan.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=50076"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novastan.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=50076"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novastan.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=50076"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novastan.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=50076"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}