Waiting inside the hotel lobby, I can spot Evgeny Kissin outside in the street. The tall, pale-faced figure topped by that forest of dark curls is unmistakeable;
and close to, his large, round eyes maintain the direct and implacable gaze they’ve always had.
Kissin is 35 now, but he hasn’t changed since I first meet him nine years ago.
His manners are impeccable, his demeanour disconcertingly serious – but on the rare occasions when he does smile, the whole room smiles with him.
Strange but true. We settle in the bar and turn to an issue that this pianistic phenomenon can scarcely avoid: life after prodigydom.
Kissin started out as one of the most astonishing child prodigies in living memory, a difficult tag to escape.
It’s also a topic riven with controversy.
Gifted children performing too much, pundits warn, risk burning out and being exploited by those around them.
A number of high-profile tragedies over the years prove this. Still, many of the most successful musicians in history were once child prodigies,
and Kissin is no exception.
Kissin started playing the piano when he was too small to remember. His first recording – the Chopin piano concertos, live in his native Moscow
when he was 12 - created an unprecedented furore.
As time went by, critics warned of the dangers he faced, making the transition from Wunderkind to mature musician. His stage persona added to the speculation:
his severe bearing, traditional musical apparel and untamed curls could look anachronistic in a world of slick fashion.
Still, he confounded all the gloomy predictions. Intriguingly, while making no concession to the theory that classical musicians need to bring themselves
up to date for today’s image-obsesses public.
Kissin attracts a feverish mystique second to none. Tickets for his concerts are like gold dust (grab one for his forthcoming Barbican or Symphony Hall recitals if you can).
His interpretations divide critical opinion, and audiences, sometimes to an extreme degree; but he simply declares, ’That’s normal’.
It seems invidious to ask a musician whether he thinks his own reputation is still coloured by his beginnings as child wonder, but Kissin does not shy away.
‘’Even if that view can exist in certain cases, I can’t imagine it lasting long’’, he says. ‘’If it is the case, I’m not noticing it.
Being a child prodigy wasn’t something I chose myself and therefore it wasn’t something I could change. But it’s not something I regret either, certainly not.
Besides, in the UK people have never known me as a child prodigy. When I made my debut here, I was already 16. During my early performances in this country,
I did not have the kind of reception that listeners are giving me now. It’s become more enthusiastic - the atmosphere you have just described wasn’t there 15 to 18 years ago.
Now I believe I have my own audience here’.
It’s generally regarded as dangerous for young musicians to give too many concerts too young, and Kissin agrees.
He points out that as youngster he gave only a few performances each year. ‘My parents never pushed me on stage, nor did my piano teacher, Anna Pavlovna Kantor.
They were trying to limit my public appearances as much as they possibly could’.
After his first solo recital, aged 11, at the Gnessin School of Music in Moscow, where he was a pupil, a friend whose husband was the director of the Moscow Composers’ House
remarked to his teacher: ‘He’s playing so well, we should have him play at the Composers’ House.’ My teacher said, “Oh no, he is too young, he can wait, ‘”Kissin recounts.
‘A man standing nearby turned to them and said: “please forgives me for interfering, I am a doctor and I understand your concerns.
In principle you are right that a young boy should not perform in public too much. But when I saw a few minutes ago with what enthusiasm, with what ardour,
he was returning on stage to play encores, I realised that for him it would be more dangerous to get ‘overburned’ inside, nor to have a let – out for all the emotions,
all the passion that’s filling him. You love him,” he said to my teacher, so you will find the right measure for him.”
My teacher took his advice and I played at the Composers’ House. Her attitude, along with my parents, was always no overexposure and no exploitation.
The one thing they couldn’t refuse, however, was any government invitation to play for official gala, which involved innumerable rehearsals and, sometimes, several changes of programme.
Once, shortly after Kissin’s landmark Chopin Concertos performance aged 12, he was required to play gala marking the anniversary of Lenin’s birthday and the request for repertoire
was changed three times. ‘My teacher tried to explain her frustration to the conductor, Yuri Simonov. However, his attitude was: “I don’t understand this sort of talk.
An artist should have a sound nervous system. Take me, for example”! But in the end the concerts went well – and apart from these events I was playing only few concerts a year
and was able to develop properly.’
Has he ever thought of taking a break? ’Once I took four months out, if that can be counted as a break. It took place at the end of 1997.
During September I didn’t touch the piano, but after that I learned Liszt’s B minor Sonata, Prokofiev’s Second Concerto and some other pieces.
’ What about changing his image? I never did anything to create an image. I’ve just been the way I am’ he says. ‘If I have an image, it’s a natural image.’
And concert clothing?’ I’m wearing what it’s customary to wear, even if it may not be the most comfortable attire. It gives me a feeling of a special atmosphere,
as I’m wearing my tails and bow tie.’
What’s the most challenging thing he’s ever had to do? ‘Maybe the Beethoven concertos cycle. I did this on numerous occasions on two evenings with one day in between,
and that was exhausting. I always give a lot in everything I play in my concerts and that’s why they are so tiring, not physically but emotionally.
I never play solo recitals with less than two days in between. I tried to do it with only one between and I realised that it just wasn’t enough,
I couldn’t be in the right emotional or mental form for the next concert. And now, as I’m getting older, I even prefer taking three days.
I have problems falling asleep after concerts. Even if I feel tired, if my eyes are closing, there is something inside me which is still awake.’
Kissin’s schedule in 2007 looks as busy as ever. As well as rumours of a major concerto release on EMI, future plans include the five Beethoven concertos with LSO,
and Prokofiev’s Second and Third concertos with the Philharmonia under Vladimir Ashkenazy. He has recitals at Symphony Hall, Birmingham,
on 28 February and at the Barbican in March (see below); in April he’ll be on tour in the US, ending at Culture Shock Miami on 7 May.
But when I ask what he’s most looking forward to in the year ahead, his answer isn’t musical: ‘It’s my mother’s 70th birthday.
We must try our best to make her feel young.’ His parents still travel with him frequently. ’I prefer travelling on my own for pleasure,’ he says,
‘But when it’s for work, it’s nicer to have someone who is close to you around.’
It’s tempting to ask whether that role might be filled by partner or spouse. ‘It should, and I hope it will,’ Kissin declares – and on that note, we’re out of time.
‘They are probably waiting in the lobby,’ he says. This most perplexing and mysterious of musicians then vanishes once more into the night.
End.
©2003 - 2009 Evgeny Kissin. All Rights Reserved
Design by Maria Alsing
Last updated:Oct 5, 2009.
