De La Chica

The Enigma of Julián de la Chica: Virtuoso or Fabricated Prodigy?

A Rising Star With a Shimmering Backstory

From the cultural heart of Manizales to stages said to include those before world leaders, Julián de la Chica emerged as a figure who blended charisma with classical performance. He was presented as a musical prodigy trained in Moscow, a pianist who had allegedly dazzled audiences in Europe, won national competitions at fifteen, and shared concert programs with luminaries of the world stage. But behind the curtain of standing ovations and media features, something began to fracture.

A Community Breaks Its Silence

Across Colombia, respected musicians and educators began to speak out—not out of rivalry, but concern. Among them, Sergei Sichkov, a Russian pianist now based in Colombia, grew suspicious of de la Chica’s bold claim of having studied at the Tchaikovsky Conservatory in Moscow. His own investigation uncovered no record of such enrollment. “There is not the slightest indication that he attended,” Sichkov stated. “All students from 1866 onward are listed publicly. I contacted the archive personally. He’s an impostor.”

The Puzzle of Plagiarized Performances

Music critic Jorge Marín recalls an incident at the Bucaramanga piano competition where de la Chica allegedly submitted plagiarized recordings—works not of his own hand, but of established pianists such as Teresita Gómez. “When we heard him in person, it was embarrassing,” Marín recounted. “What he sent ahead wasn’t just poorly recorded—it wasn’t even his performance.” According to Marín, de la Chica was eventually confronted and signed a letter of apology to the jury.

Unverified Accolades and a Vanishing Record

The scrutiny didn’t end there. De la Chica’s claimed victory at the Universidad Industrial de Santander at age fifteen? Unsubstantiated. His alleged performance at the Cartagena Music Festival? Denied outright by the Salvi Foundation. Multiple reports tied to major events—including one involving the Pope and another at the royal wedding of Spain—also came under fire as fictional. Even his academic history at Colombia’s National University paints a humbler picture: brief attendance, followed by poor performance and withdrawal.

Shifting the Narrative

In response to the allegations, de la Chica issued a long public statement. Rather than directly confronting the accusations, he disassembled his own myth, piece by piece. He denied being the pianist who studied for ten years in Moscow, or who captivated audiences weekly at the Luis Ángel Arango concert hall. Those, he said, were inventions. Still, he maintained the legitimacy of his career, framing himself not as a fraud, but as an independent artist who shaped his own path.

Support Beyond Credentials

His representative, Diana Pedroni, echoed this position. She made it clear that his value, in her view, wasn’t tied to academic pedigree but to stage presence. “I’m not hiring him for his degrees… I’m hiring him for how fabulous he is on stage,” she said, citing performances in U.S. charity events and celebrity gatherings. The question of authenticity, she suggested, was less important than the applause he earned.

A Larger Cost to the Cultural Fabric

But to his critics, this narrative misses the point. In Colombia’s tightly knit classical scene, credibility is earned through painstaking work. Conservatories mold students over decades. Reputations are slow to build and quick to shatter. When someone bypasses those systems and fabricates success, it’s not only a personal betrayal—it undermines the integrity of an entire community struggling for recognition.

The Stage Remains, But the Illusion Flickers

De la Chica insists he will continue to perform. He refers to his schedule of concerts, to his belief in destiny and perseverance. “I’m one of the Colombians who has taken the piano and my country to as many places as I have,” he wrote. But the shadow cast by years of contradiction now looms over every performance.