»This is what I mean.«

Nenia Zenana spreads her arms in a gesture towards a large panoramic window, which, as far as the eye can see, offers views of vast, sand-coloured buildings reflected in the surface of the canals at South Campus.

»Imagine that I get to enjoy this view every single day,« she says, letting her gaze linger for a moment.

Others have, over the years, described the University of Copenhagen’s (UCPH) South Campus in less flattering terms like ‘grey’ or ‘uninspiring’. But Nenia Zenana, who has worked as an associate professor at the Department of Musicology for nearly 29 years, has unreserved enthusiasm for the large buildings of beige sandstone and glass that make up her workplace.

In November 2024, she won the title of Teacher of the Year, because »Nenia is the kind of teacher the world simply needs more of,« as her students wrote when they nominated her for the University of Copenhagen’s teaching award, known as the Harald.

The University Post met up with Nenia Zenana at the Department of Arts and Cultural Studies, the base of musicology, during the spring semester of 2025. Wearing multicoloured, hand-knitted wool socks, she gives us a tour of all the nooks and crannies of the musicology unit. So we can get a sense of how great it is here, as she puts it.

The tour begins at the door to her office, which she has decorated with personal photos, clippings, and little text snippets. Among them are words and phrases that hold a special meaning for the associate professor.

On the door, it says: nature, music, solitude, people, and ‘when the heart opens’.

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She carefully selected those words a few years ago when a tutor asked if she would write a few lines for the new students that captured who she is.

»I thought about what lies at the core of my heart. What is my foundation? And then it struck me: It’s that,« she says, pointing with one hand to the words, and the other to her heart.

Nenia Zenana seeks, in all areas of life, the places where the heart opens, she says. And if she has to explain what that really means, music is a good place to start.

»I experience that we can work with certain sonorities or texts that suddenly resonate with the individual, where you feel released, and where you can simultaneously be a channel for those who are listening,« she says.

»If I, as the performing musician, can make peace with myself, then those who listen can also make peace with themselves. Do you see what I mean?«

Entreat me not to leave you

Nenia Zenana teaches ear training and practical piano, leads community singing at the department once a month, and is coursework coordinator for various courses on the programme. She also leads the musicology choir, MUKO, which is comprised of 80 volunteer students from different year cohorts.

»Wonderful, wonderful young people. It is such a joy. Just insanely delightful,« she says about the choir.

It is particularly in her work with large choirs that she repeatedly sees her wish for open hearts play out in reality.

Recently, Nenia Zenana was leading the choir through the piece Entreat Me Not To Leave You by Dan Forrest, which tells the story of a family forced to flee their homeland and settle in a neighbouring country.

After many years in the neighbouring country, the family’s father and two sons have died, and the woman is left with her two daughters-in-law. She tells them she plans to return to her homeland and release them. But one daughter-in-law will not accept this:

»She says: Do not force me to leave you; entreat me not to leave you. Where you go, I will go. Your people shall be my people. Your home shall be my home. Your language shall be my language. And when the choir sings this piece, it is clear that the students are deeply moved by it. They feel the love in the words — the willingness to say, even if I have to leave something of myself behind, I will stay with you.«

Nenia Zenana touches her heart again as she recounts the story. She exhales deeply:

»There are 80 young people standing there, opening their hearts. And this — this is what I get to do.«

»Can I have a hug?«

It’s not hard to see, hear or feel that Nenia Zenana loves her job — and that, in a certain sense, her job loves her back.

As we walk the corridors and she enthusiastically points out the things we pass along the way, we run into a student who stops us.

»Can I have a hug?« the student asks, and the teacher exclaims ‘Of course! What’s up?’

It’s been tough, the exams, the student explains. Nenia Zenana sighs and says she knows. I’m glad you said so, she replies, and gives the student’s arm a gentle squeeze before we move on.

In addition to her position as associate professor on the musicology programme, Nenia Zenana works as a Body Self Development System therapist. She makes sure her students know. They shouldn’t hesitate to come to her if they’re experiencing pain — whether physical, psychological or — as is often the case — a combination of both.

»Students often come to me during a break and say, I’ve got something with my wrist, my neck, or something else. And if they allow me, I help them release it,« says Nenia Zenana.

What hurts is usually rooted in something deeper than strained muscles, she says. Over the years, she has worked with students who’ve suffered from various forms of anxiety and depression, or who have been in deep sorrow for one reason or another.

»I find that the students show me an incredible amount of openness and trust, and I find that beautiful.«

On our tour, we pass a wall covered in clippings that Nenia Zenana has been graciously allowed to put up by a campus officer.

They’re from a themed week she led in the autumn, where all first-semester students worked across subjects on the band Savage Rose — ensemble, ear training, functional piano, and musical anthropology.

»I once worked with the lead singer (Annisette Koppel, ed.), so I wrote to her and asked if she would come and see what we had done — and she said yes. It was fantastic that the students got to experience a connection between their studies and real life,« says Nenia Zenana.

»The students loved the fact that there was coherence between their different courses throughout an entire week. And sure, it cost us teachers a lot of extra time to put it all together, but we just thought it was so much fun.«

The perfect choir hall

Nenia Zenana herself graduated from the Royal Danish Academy of Music in ear training, conducting, and piano in 1996. That same year she began teaching at UCPH, and although it was only a few hours a week at first, it gradually increased.

Today, she is employed in a 25-hour position. This allows her time for both her therapeutic work and her own musical projects.

But of all the places she has been, nothing compares to the choir hall that was built at South Campus, she says as we arrive.

»This room has simply the perfect acoustics. They have had some really skilled acousticians working on it when they built it,« she says, as we stand in the large hall with high ceilings and special acoustic panels on the walls.

»There’s a reason I’ve stayed out here. As a performing musician, you can help convey a message and help the audience find peace within themselves. But as a teacher, you get even closer,« says Nenia Zenana.

»I often teach groups of ten to twelve students, and that really lets you sense the mood in the room. Maybe one student is eager to learn, and another needs to hang back a bit. Then it’s up to the teacher to find the right balance.«

Be good on your own terms

Nenia Zenana is still »completely overwhelmed« that her students nominated her for the title of Teacher of the Year 2024.

»I don’t know how other people teach — I only know what I do,« she emphasises when I ask about her teaching methods.

»But I remember the students writing in their nomination that what they learn from me is that if you do your best and lead with your heart, that’s enough. They also wrote that these values matter in a world that is moving ever faster, where young people are under immense pressure to perform,« she says.

»I’m grateful that this is what the students take with them. I believe this is how we set off a ripple effect for peace — by teaching our young people to lead with their hearts.«

Nenia Zenana doesn’t like when someone claims to be »the best« at something. For the same reason, she doesn’t want to be called »The best teacher at UCPH«. Because if you’re only good when you’re better than others, it doesn’t mean anything, she believes.

»If you want to be good, just be good on your own terms. All that stuff about others — it simply doesn’t matter. Focus instead on whether you’re better than you were yesterday. Great, then be happy about that. If you compare yourself to others, you’ll always lose.«

According to Nenia Zenana, young people today are under tremendous pressure to perform and succeed. But despite higher expectations placed on individuals, she sees a generation that increasingly seeks community.

»I’ve been teaching for almost 30 years, and about 20 years ago, I experienced a period where a wave of students arrived who weren’t that focused on community. They were very self-oriented and demanded more from their surroundings,« she says.

»But that has changed significantly. Right now, we’re seeing a generation of young people who want to make use of each other. The spirit of the times puts a lot of pressure on students, and that means that in some ways, we now have students who are highly sensitive,« she says, stressing that at the same time, many are fighting back against that very pressure.

»Students today are increasingly indifferent to career, status, and money. They want a meaningful life. And I think that’s absolutely wonderful,« she laughs. And adds:

»It’s also sustainable. I think it’s good for us — as a society, that is. I see students out here who manage to lead with their hearts, and that makes me happy.«

A chord in major, minor, or off the scale?

A couple of weeks later, I visit a functional piano class, where around ten students are seated at individual electric keyboards in a music room.

Soon after the lesson begins, another student walks through the door. She waves apologetically and says: »Hi, I’m supposed to be in here.«

»No way, really? That’s fantastic!« exclaims Nenia Zenana, turning to the rest of the group:

»Anna has been struggling with her vocal cords since she started.

She had been silent for three months, but now she’s back. I just can’t get over how amazing it is!«

The student — Anna — nods with a laugh and takes a seat at a free keyboard. Nenia Zenana soon asks the students to »pair up in twos« and make sure Anna »joins the club.«

Now the students are taking turns in plenary to assess whether the different chords in Se min kjole are major, minor or ‘weird’, as Nenia Zenana puts it. One student hesitates when it’s her turn.

»Would you like to phone a friend?« Nenia Zenana asks quickly, using the phrase from the TV quiz show Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?, and the student nods. »Who are you calling?« she continues, and the students laugh. Another student jumps in and declares that the chord is major. »Well said, that’s correct!« confirms Nenia Zenana.

During the break, I catch up with one of the students, Lars Hedegaard Petersen, who is in his second semester but has worked for many years as an IT developer.

»I’ve had many different kinds of music teachers throughout my life. And several of them had a very different approach to teaching — they’d get annoyed if you couldn’t figure things out,« he says.

»Nenia is just completely different. She welcomes insecurities and mistakes in such a positive way. If you say something wrong, she responds with ‘that’s an interesting way of looking at it’, instead of saying it’s wrong.«

Bastian Smith-Sivertsen is a former student of musicology and was the main organiser behind the nomination of Nenia Zenana for the teaching award, which ended up with about 60 named nominators.

»Actually, the idea of nominating Nenia had already been floating around the year before — it just hadn’t been picked up. So last year, I thought: now’s the time. I posted in our shared group, and the response was overwhelming in no time,« says Bastian Smith-Sivertsen. He adds:

»And that really says a lot about who Nenia is. This award isn’t about something special she did this year — it’s about what she’s done as a teacher at musicology for what amounts to a human lifetime.«

The music world is sometimes driven by cutthroat competition and ambition, says Bastian Smith-Sivertsen. But Nenia Zenana stands for the complete opposite.

»She always says you should only contribute what you’ve had time to prepare. For Nenia, the most important thing is that you give the best you’re capable of. And that actually makes you more motivated to do your homework for her class, because you’re not afraid of being judged,« he says.

One of Nenia Zenana’s greatest strengths, however, is that to many students, she is more than just a teacher, says Bastian Smith-Sivertsen.

»I know so many people who’ve had stress or felt overwhelmed and unable to cope — and who have gone to Nenia with it, even before turning to their closest friends or family. The role she plays in that regard is simply outstanding,« he says.

Ask, ask, ask

As much as Nenia Zenana loves people, she also loves being alone. Being lonely, in fact. And it took her many years to reach that realisation, she says.

She experiences a particularly calming solitude when she’s kayaking — a sport she has practised for the past 12 years. She usually rows out from the north coast of the central Danish island of Zealand, where she lives, and on rare occasions, she’s paddled ‘around Denmark’ — a route from the Wadden Sea, around Jutland and Zealand, ending up in Flensburg, Germany. During that journey, she is alone for weeks at a time.

»When you’re alone, it’s as if the water settles and the truth comes into view,« she says.

It’s a bit strange, she adds, because she comes from a family of six siblings, which has over the years grown to a close-knit extended family of 30–40 people.

»It took me many years to realise how much I appreciate being alone. I was always used to thinking that being with lots of people meant you were happy. It wasn’t until I started kayaking that I discovered just how hard it is to be alone — and then, how wonderful it can be, too,« she says.

The relatively new interest in solitude is about being curious about oneself and questioning the things one has previously taken for granted, she says. She learned to ask those questions many years ago.

»When I was at the Academy, I hated two things: jazz and the US. I didn’t really know why. So I decided to spend an entire semester at an American jazz college to really find out whether it was because I didn’t understand the language — both literally and musically — or whether my taste simply lay elsewhere,« she says.

»And then I discovered that jazz was just a language I didn’t know. And that the US is made up of people — some of them not so great, and some of them absolutely amazing. I wouldn’t have discovered those things if I hadn’t dared to ask questions.«

She hopes that students will increasingly learn to question themselves and the world around them.

»Ask questions, if you can. And if you don’t have the energy to ask questions, then clear the clutter and figure out why that is. Because you’ll never find answers unless you ask,« she says.

Nenia Zenana has learned a lot about herself over the years, and today she’s not afraid to tell her students that she’s actually not very social — even if that surprises most of them.

»I always take part in the student-organised song contest — MiGP — but I no longer go to Christmas parties and that sort of thing,« she says.

»I love being with my students. And I also love going home, closing the door, and being completely alone.«

This article was first written in Danish and published on 12 August 2025. It has been translated into English and post-edited by Mike Young.