Virtuoso Trifonov plays beyond his years
Most photos of the Russian pianist Daniil Trifonov depict a handsome young man with a clean shave and slicked hair — the boyish, steely-eyed look of a prodigy.
But Trifonov, who is 25, doesn’t actually look or play like fresh talent. On Thursday, he walked onto the stage with the Houston Symphony with a full beard — and gave a full-bearded performance. This was not some young hotshot but rather an artist beginning to find deeper, more mature ways to approach music beyond technical precocity.
Trifonov is Gramophone’s 2016 Artist of the Year and the winner of Tel Aviv’s Rubinstein Competition, Moscow’s Tchaikovsky Competition and the Franco Abbiati Prize for Best Instrumental Soloist in Italy. This is what it’s like to be a pianist or violinist in the musical meritocracy. There are champions like Trifonov, and then there are the rest. And those who emerge as the new names to watch tend to be virtuosic soloists — modern Franz Liszts such as Lang Lang who embody not just musicality but showmanship and celebrity.
Not so for Trifonov. Sure, Schumann’s Piano Concerto in A Minor, Op. 54 is a showy piece for the piano. Its Allegro vivace is as full bodied as any finale, and Trifonov rose to the occasion with an equal display of agility and strength. But his mantra wasn’t showing off. He would rather maintain a controlled environment, using his energy with strategy and reservation.
Give a musician 5,000 notes to play, and you’ll know if he’s good. Give him just three and you’ll know if he’s great. Trifonov’s sensibility was epitomized by his encore, a quiet little melody in a minor key, with few notes and flourishes. It was Nikolai Medtner’s Fairy Tale, Op. 24, No. 3, which tasted like tea and melancholy after a sumptuous Schumann. Trifonov bowed several times and drank in the applause. He certainly liked the attention. But you could tell he loved the music.
The second half of the evening featured the Houston Symphony performing Rachmaninoff’s Symphony No. 2 in E minor, Op. 27. It’s one of the composer’s earlier symphonies, often cut and tinkered by various orchestras. Houston’s rendition was a lengthy journey through four movements of contrasting emotions — the first melodic, the second dissonant, the third sweepingly sad and the fourth triumphant.
I wish the symphony played with contrasts more, and found danger in playing too quietly or loudly at times. Instead, under Andrés Orozco-Estrada’s emotive conducting, the symphony did everything right, with all the emotions appropriate for the moment. Perfection is great for audiences seeking solace, but what about those of us who want to be disturbed?