Trifonov THE CARNEGIE RECITAL

For over 120 years, New York’s Carnegie Hall has been the site for magic moments, with a special status reserved for notable debuts, from Tchaikovsky to the Beatles. When young Russian pianist Daniil Trifonov made his main-stage Carnegie Hall recital debut before a packed house in February 2013, there was indeed a sense of electric anticipation. Winner of the 2011 Tchaikovsky Competition in Moscow and the Arthur Rubinstein Competition in Tel Aviv the same year, Trifonov had already created a stir among connoisseurs; on the occasion of his first Carnegie recital, that anticipation gave way to the thrill, fulfillment, and delight of a full-fledged triumph.

For those in attendance that February night, there could be no other conclusion: this pianist – his boyish face and frame belying his command as a performer – was more than just another prize-winning prodigy. Blending extreme technical facility with a poetic refinement vastly beyond his years, here was a phenomenon. No less an authority than Martha Argerich has said of Trifonov: “What he does with his hands is technically incredible. It’s also his touch – he has tenderness and also the demonic element. I never heard anything like that.”

Born in Nizhniy Novgorod in 1991 and raised in a musical family, Trifonov became a devoted musician from an early age. He trained in the renowned school of Russian pianism, first at the Gnessin School of Music in Moscow with Tatiana Zelikman, then with Sergei Babayan at the Cleveland Institute of Music. The main programme of his Carnegie debut recital presents the quintessence of the tradition to which he is heir: Chopin’s 24 Preludes op. 28 (1839), Liszt’s Sonata in B minor (1854) and Scriabin’s Piano Sonata No. 2 “Sonata-Fantasy” (1897), a chain of Romantic works with a kindred spirit, by composers who were themselves all piano virtuosos in their own right. It is repertoire of both deep substance and sensual allure, ideally suited to an artist of finesse as well as force.

Beyond his keyboard mastery, Trifonov is also a gifted composer in his own right: there is a dynamic, almost improvised quality to his performance of the works of his Romantic predecessors. He speaks of how the richness of the Romantic piano literature means that the music can be interpreted in myriad ways, not only from performer to performer but from concert to concert by the same performer. “So much can depend on the acoustic, the piano, the audience,” he explains. “A pianist will make spontaneous decisions of character or tempo in the moment. It’s a different story every night. But the magic of Romanticism is the intensity with which the music can provoke emotions in the heart of the listener.”

One of Trifonov’s teachers at the Gnessin School owned a vast collection of historical LPs, and the young student marveled at the great example of the “titans of the piano”. Trifonov was especially taken by Horowitz and Cortot in Chopin. He says: “They were very different pianists, yes, but both had an incredible sense of time and rubato, the effortless breathing of a phrase – this was a great lesson for me.” In Scriabin, it was recordings by Horowitz, Heinrich Neuhaus, and, especially, Vladimir Sofronitsky that made an impression on him: “These pianists had such different visions of Scriabin’s colours and harmonies, with so much to say in their own way.” Among contemporary pianists, Trifonov particularly admires Radu Lupu, Grigory Sokolov, and Martha Argerich. Along with the “improvisatory atmosphere” that Horowitz was able to conjure in Liszt’s Sonata, Trifonov loves Martha Argerich’s DG recording for its “drama and intensity”.

Regarding his landmark Carnegie debut, Trifonov admits to having felt “an altered sense of reality” as he walked onto the hallowed stage of the Stern Auditorium that night; but he recalls vividly “the amazing acoustic on stage – it allows a performer to equilibrate colors, tones, shades, dynamics, character.” The instrument, too, was special. “The best pianos”, Trifonov explains, “have character but are also flexible, so they can be like a mirror that reflects the soul of a performer. The Hamburg Steinway I played here was such an instrument.” And finally, there was the notoriously demanding New York public, which, the pianist remembers with a smile, “listened with attention and enthusiasm. Even without an audience, in rehearsal Carnegie gives off such an atmosphere; but when the listeners come in, they create this excitement that gives energy – wings – to the performer.”

For those who witnessed live that Carnegie recital in February 2013, the audience’s excitement was more than just the pleasure of an exceptional concert or the partaking in a professional rite of passage; rather, the hall – carried on Trifonov’s mesmerizing wings – was charged with a palpable sense of momentousness, the unanimous recognition of a major career taking flight. The present recording documents and shares that unique occasion, when Trifonov inscribed his name in Carnegie Hall’s register of legends.