Rachmaninoff prelude for 6 fingers. Denis Matsuev: “...such fingers, but what does he do?”

1. Hey, where am I?!

Kreisler and Rachmaninoff performed Franck's sonata at Carnegie Hall. The violinist played without notes and... suddenly his memory failed him already in the first movement! Kreisler came closer to the pianist and looked at the notes, trying to find the bar where he could “catch” his partner.
- Where are we?! Where are we?! - the violinist whispered desperately.
“To Carnegie Hall,” Rachmaninov answered in a whisper, without stopping playing.

2. Do you mind?..

At the rehearsal of Sergei Rachmaninov’s first opera “Aleko,” Tchaikovsky approached the twenty-year-old, still unknown, author and embarrassedly asked:
- I have just finished a two-act opera, Iolanta, which is not long enough to take up the whole evening. Would you mind if it was performed along with your opera?
Shocked and happy, Rachmaninov could not answer and remained silent, as if he had filled his mouth with water.
“But if you’re against it...” Tchaikovsky began, not knowing how to interpret the young composer’s silence.
“He was simply speechless, Pyotr Ilyich,” someone suggested.
Rachmaninov vigorously nodded his head in confirmation.
“But I still don’t understand,” Tchaikovsky laughed, “whether you’re against it or not.” If you can't speak, then at least wink...
Rachmaninov did just that.
“Thank you, flirtatious young man, for the honor you have shown me,” Pyotr Ilyich became completely amused.

Young Rachmaninov

3. Joke with the destroyer
One day Fyodor Ivanovich Chaliapin decided to make fun of a newspaper reporter and said that he intended to purchase an old destroyer. The guns taken from the ship have already been brought and placed in the garden of his Moscow house. The reporter took the joke seriously, and this sensational news was published in the newspaper.
Soon a messenger from Rachmaninov came to Chaliapin with a note that read:
"Is it possible to visit Mr. Captain tomorrow? Are the guns not loaded yet?"

With his beloved dog Levko

4. "The most important thing"
Once a certain corrosive and not very competent interviewer asked Sergei Vasilyevich a “smart” question: what is the most important thing in art?
Rachmaninov shrugged his shoulders and replied:
- If there was something most important in art, everything would be quite simple. But that’s the point, young man, that the most important thing in art is that there is not and cannot be one thing most important in it...

5. Alas for me...
Rachmaninov was a very fearless man, he was never afraid to tell the truth, even to his own detriment. Once in Switzerland, pianist Joseph Levin came to him and asked for advice:
- Sergey Vasilyevich, tell me how to play Beethoven’s First Concerto, I’ve never played it.
The world-famous composer and outstanding concert pianist threw up his hands:
- What advice can I give you?... You have never played it, and I have never heard of it...

6. Either cough or play
Sergei Vasilyevich really did not like it when people coughed in the hall. While playing his new Variations on a Theme of Corelli, Rachmaninov watched how many people coughed in the audience. If the cough got worse, he skipped the next variation; if there was no cough, he played in order. The composer was asked:
- Why do you dislike your own variations so much?
- My variations don’t like being coughed up so much that they themselves escape my fingers, preferring not to sound...

7. Souvenir as a keepsake
One day Rachmaninov received a letter from a certain gentleman, in which he wrote: “...When I stopped you at Carnegie Hall to ask for fire, I had no idea who I was talking to, but soon recognized you and took the second match as souvenir." The punctual Rachmaninov replied: “Thank you for your letter. If I had known earlier that you are an admirer of my art, then without a doubt and with any regret I would have given you not only the second match, but even the entire box.”

8. A cautionary tale
The famous pianist Joseph Hoffmann wrote an enthusiastic letter to Rachmaninov, which included the following lines: “My dear Premier! By “Premier” I mean: the first of the pianists...”
Rachmaninov immediately responded: “Dear Hoffmann, there is such a story: Once upon a time there lived many tailors in Paris. When one of them managed to rent a shop on a street where there was not a single tailor, he wrote on his sign: “The best tailor in Paris.” Another tailor, who opened a shop on the same street, was already forced to write on the sign: “The best tailor in the whole world.” But what could the third tailor, who rented a shop between the first two, do? He wrote modestly: “The best tailor on this street.” "Your modesty gives you every right to this title: 'You are the best on this street.'"

9. Addition
Rachmaninov often repeated that eighty-five percent of him is a musician...
- What are the remaining fifteen? - they asked him.
- Well, you see, I’m still a little human...

Rachmaninov with his granddaughter, 1927

10. Shoemaker
Rachmaninov often experienced periods of creative doubt not after failures, but on the contrary, after particularly successful concerts, and he experienced them painfully.
Once, having finished his performance to the wild delight of the audience, Rachmaninov locked himself in the dressing room and did not open it to anyone for a long time. When the door finally opened, he didn’t let anyone say a word:
- Don’t say anything, don’t say anything... I myself know that I’m not a musician, but a shoemaker!..

11. Walking pianola
Some French pianist really wanted Rachmaninov to listen to her. Finally she succeeded, and, arriving at his Parisian apartment, she played him the most difficult Chopin etude without a single mistake. Rachmaninov listened carefully to the performer, then rose from his chair dissatisfied and said:
- For God's sake, at least one mistake! When the pianist left, he explained:
- This is an inhuman performance, this is some kind of pianola, you should make a mistake at least once... there would be something to talk about. And so - a good pianola,” and, sighing, he hopelessly waved his hand.

12. The biggest hands
Rachmaninov had the greatest span of keys of all pianists. He could cover twelve white keys at once! And with his left hand Rachmaninov freely played the chord: C E-flat G to G! His hands were really large, but amazingly beautiful, ivory-colored, without bulging veins, like many concert pianists, and without knots on the fingers.
At the end of his life, the buttons on Rachmaninov’s shoes (namely, he liked to wear shoes with buttons) were only fastened by his wife, so that before the concert, God forbid, a toenail would not be damaged...

13. Why?
When Rachmaninov arrived in America, one music critic asked in surprise:
- Why does the maestro dress so modestly?
“Nobody knows me here anyway,” Rachmaninov answered.
Over time, the composer did not change his habits at all.
And the same critic asks again a few years later:
- Mastro, your financial circumstances have changed significantly for the better, but you haven’t started dressing better.
“Why, because everyone already knows me,” Rachmaninov shrugged.

14. Oh, these paparazzi!..
Once, having arrived at a concert in an American city, in order to avoid meeting with correspondents, Rachmaninov was the last to leave the empty carriage and walked in a roundabout way straight to the car that was waiting for him.
Rachmaninov did not like the annoying paparazzi who followed him during concert performances in America, Europe, and at home, and tried to avoid them as much as possible. However, a photographer was already waiting for him near the hotel with his camera at the ready. Rachmaninov almost ran into the hotel, not allowing himself to be filmed. But when the composer went to dine at a restaurant, a man with a camera again appeared at his table and began to take pictures of him. Shielding his face with his palms, Sergei Vasilyevich said, not without irritation:
- Please, leave me alone, I don’t want to act...
In the evening, after buying a newspaper, he saw his photograph. The face really wasn’t visible, only hands... The caption under this photo read: “Hands that are worth a million!”

15. Senar

From 1924 to 1939, the Rachmaninoffs spent their summers in Europe, returning to New York in the fall. In 1930, S.V. Rachmaninov acquired a plot of land in Switzerland, not far from Lucerne. Since the spring of 1934, the Rachmaninovs have firmly established themselves in this estate, which was named “Senar” (SERGEI and NATALYA Rachmaninov).

Composer and wife

16. I believe in victory
During the Great Patriotic War, Rachmaninov gave several concerts in the United States, all proceeds from which he sent to the Red Army Fund. He donated the money collected from one of his concerts to the USSR Defense Fund with the words: “From one of the Russians, all possible assistance to the Russian people in their fight against the enemy. I want to believe, I believe in complete victory.”

17.
The melody of the popular song “All by myself,” which appeared in 1975 and is most famously performed by Celine Dion, was completely borrowed by its author, American musician Eric Carmen, from Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2. Initially, Carmen believed that this work was in the public domain, and found out that this was not the case only after the official release of his record. Because of this, he had to settle all legal issues with Rachmaninov’s heirs and indicate the name of Sergei Rachmaninov as the official author of the music for the song.

The Rachmaninov family, according to family legends, originates from the Moldavian ruler Stephen III the Great (c. 1433 - 1504). His grandson, boyar Rakhmanin, who already served the Moscow sovereigns, received his nickname from the name of the mythical people in medieval Russian legends - Rakhmans (blessed, from the Indian “brahman”; however, “Rakhman” in Rus' was also called a lazy person).

Sergei Vasilyevich Rachmaninov was born on April 1, 1873 in the family estate of Semenovo, Starorussky district, Novgorod province.

His musical genius developed at a truly Mozartian pace. The boy's interest in music arose at the age of four, and at the age of nine, Seryozha entered the piano department of the St. Petersburg Conservatory. As a 13-year-old boy, he was introduced to Tchaikovsky, who later took a great part in the fate of the young musician. At the age of 19, Rachmaninov graduated from the conservatory with a large gold medal (in composition), received a position as a piano teacher at the Moscow Mariinsky Women's School; at 24 he became the conductor of the Russian private opera of Savva Mamontov.

But then a breakdown occurred. His innovative First Symphony and First Concerto were unsuccessful at their premieres, which caused a serious nervous illness. For several years, Rachmaninov could not compose, and only the help of an experienced psychiatrist helped him get out of his painful state.

In 1901 he completed his Second Piano Concerto. The successful premiere restored the musician’s faith in himself, and he accepted an invitation to take the place of conductor at the Moscow Bolshoi Theater. After two seasons, he went on a trip to Europe and America. This tour brought him worldwide fame.

Soon after the 1917 revolution, Rachmaninov left Russia. He chose the USA as his place of permanent residence, toured extensively in America and Europe and was soon recognized as one of the greatest pianists of his era. For the last twenty-five years of his life, he did not compose anything, but only performed concerts and recorded records.

During the Second World War, Rachmaninov gave several concerts in the USA, all the proceeds from which he sent to the USSR Defense Fund with the words: “From one of the Russians, all possible assistance to the Russian people in their fight against the enemy. I want to believe, I believe in complete victory.”

Unfortunately, he did not live to see the Victory. The great Russian musician died in Beverly Hills (California) on March 28, 1943.

***
Rachmaninov had an incredibly large finger span - he could immediately cover twelve white keys! And with his left hand, Rachmaninov freely played the chord C E-flat G C!

His hands were simply huge, but at the same time amazingly beautiful, ivory-colored, without bulging veins, like many concert pianists, and without knots on the fingers.

At the end of his life, the buttons on Rachmaninov’s shoes (and he loved shoes with buttons) were only fastened by his wife, so that before the concert, God forbid, a toenail would not be damaged...

With Chaliapin

***
When young Rachmaninov, together with his friend Chaliapin, first appeared at L.N. Tolstoy, the young man’s knees were shaking with excitement. Chaliapin sang Rachmaninoff's song "Fate", then the composer performed several of his works. All the listeners were delighted and there was enthusiastic applause. Suddenly, as if on command, everyone froze, turning their heads towards Tolstoy, who looked gloomy and dissatisfied. Tolstoy did not applaud. We moved on to tea. After some time, Tolstoy approaches Rachmaninov and says excitedly:
“I still have to tell you how much I don’t like all this!” Beethoven is nonsense! Pushkin, Lermontov - too!
Sofya Andreevna, who was standing nearby, touched the composer’s shoulder and whispered:
- Don't pay attention, please. And don’t contradict me, Lyovochka shouldn’t worry, it’s very harmful for him.
After some time, Tolstoy again approaches Rachmaninov:
- Excuse me, please, I'm an old man. I didn't mean to offend you.
- How can I be offended for myself if I was not offended for Beethoven? - Rachmaninov sighed, and from that time on Tolstoy did not see him again.

***
At the rehearsal of Sergei Rachmaninov’s first opera “Aleko,” Tchaikovsky approached the twenty-year-old, still unknown, author and embarrassedly asked:

“I have just finished a two-act opera, Iolanta, which is not long enough to take up the whole evening. Would you mind if it was performed along with your opera?

Shocked and happy, Rachmaninov could not answer and remained silent, as if he had filled his mouth with water.

“But if you’re against it...” Tchaikovsky began, not knowing how to interpret the young composer’s silence.
“He was simply speechless, Pyotr Ilyich,” someone suggested.

Rachmaninov vigorously nodded his head in confirmation.

“But I still don’t understand,” Tchaikovsky laughed, “whether you’re against it or not.” If you can't speak, then at least wink...
Rachmaninov did just that.
“Thank you, flirtatious young man, for the honor you have shown me,” Pyotr Ilyich became completely amused.

***
“Maestro,” an aspiring pianist once asked Rachmaninoff, “is it true that you have to be born a pianist?”
“The absolute truth, madam,” Rachmaninov smiled, “without being born, it is impossible to play the piano.”

Chopin's Nocturne performed by Rachmaninoff

***
Once at Carnegie Hall, Rachmaninov performed the Franck Sonata together with the outstanding violinist Kreisler. He, as usual, played without notes and... suddenly his memory failed him already in the first movement! Kreisler moved towards the pianist and looked at the notes, trying to find the bar where he could “catch” his partner.
- Where are we?! Where are we?! - the violinist whispered desperately.
“To Carnegie Hall,” Rachmaninov responded calmly.

***
Once a certain corrosive and not very competent interviewer asked Sergei Vasilyevich a “smart” question: what is the most important thing in art?
Rachmaninov shrugged his shoulders and replied:
“If there was something most important in art, everything would be quite simple.” But that’s the point, young man, that the most important thing in art is that there is not and cannot be one thing most important in it...

***
Some French pianist really wanted Rachmaninov to listen to her. Finally she succeeded, and, arriving at his Parisian apartment, she played him the most difficult Chopin etude without a single mistake. Rachmaninov listened carefully to the performer, then rose from his chair dissatisfied and said:
- For God's sake, at least one mistake! When the pianist left, he explained:
- This is an inhuman performance, this is some kind of pianola, you should make a mistake at least once... there would be something to talk about. And so - a good pianola,” and, sighing, he hopelessly waved his hand.

***
When Rachmaninov arrived in America, one music critic asked in surprise:
— Why does the maestro dress so modestly?
“Nobody knows me here anyway,” Rachmaninov answered.
Over time, the composer became rich, but did not change his habits at all. And when the same critic again asked him the question: why, despite the success, the maestro did not change his preferences in clothing, Rachmaninov shrugged his shoulders:
- Why, because everyone already knows me.

***
Rachmaninov’s periods of creative doubt usually occurred not after failures, but, on the contrary, after particularly successful concerts, and he experienced them painfully.
Once, having finished his performance to the wild delight of the audience, Rachmaninov locked himself in the dressing room and did not open it to anyone for a long time. When the door finally opened, he didn’t let anyone say a word:
- Don’t say anything, don’t say anything... I myself know that I’m not a musician, but a shoemaker!..

***
Rachmaninov was not afraid to tell the truth, even to his own detriment. Once in Switzerland, pianist Joseph Levin came to him and asked for advice:

— Sergey Vasilyevich, tell me how to play Beethoven’s First Concerto, I’ve never played it.
But the world-famous composer and pianist just shrugged:
- What advice can I give you?... You have never played it, and I have never heard of it...

***
Rachmaninov always listened to the audience in the hall, and most of all he did not like it when people coughed in the hall. There is a known case when, during the performance of his new Variations on a Theme of Corelli, Rachmaninov vigilantly monitored how often there was coughing in the audience. If the cough got worse, then he simply skipped the next variation, but if it was quiet, then he played in order.

***
In Nikolai Slonimsky’s book “Musical Anecdotes” there is a fragment where he depicts Rachmaninoff’s impression of listening to Stravinsky’s “Firebird”:

“I remember that when we listened to the solemn, triumphant finale of the Firebird, I saw tears in Rachmaninoff’s eyes. He exclaimed: “God, what a brilliant work. It contains real Rus'.” And when they told him that Stravinsky loved honey, he bought a large jar of honey and took it to Stravinsky’s home himself.”

***
Rachmaninov often repeated that eighty-five percent of him is a musician...
- What do the remaining fifteen account for? - they asked him.
- Well, you see, I’m still a little human...

***

The melody of the popular song “All by myself,” which appeared in 1975 and is most famously performed by Celine Dion, was completely borrowed by its author, American musician Eric Carmen, from Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 (its second movement). Initially, Carmen believed that this work was in the public domain, and found out that this was not the case only after the official release of his record. Because of this, he had to settle all legal issues with Rachmaninov’s heirs and indicate the name of Sergei Rachmaninov as the official author of the music for the song.

And the melody of the famous song Full Moon And Empty Arms (1945) by Buddy Kaye and Ted Mossman continues the theme from the 3rd part of the Second Concerto (on video from 5.22). (Ted Mossman According to his colleagues, he adjusted Chopin's polonaises and masterpieces by Saint-Saëns and Rimsky-Korsakov to Broadway songs, worked on Bach, Beethoven and Schumann, and did not ignore Wagner's Tristan and Isolde.)

The most famous recording of the song was made in 1945 by Frank Sinatra (there is also a cover by Bob Dylan, if you are interested, just do a search on YouTube).

“Business Petersburg” spoke with the famous pianist, who flew to St. Petersburg from Davos via Paris and Moscow.

The performance at the Mariinsky Concert Hall opens the Russian solo tour of the famous pianist. The musician, who has performed with great success in the most famous halls of New York and Vienna, Paris and Milan, London and Washington, is eagerly awaited in Tyumen and Chelyabinsk, Kirov and Perm.

“For me, these concerts are the most important of the season,” says Matsuev. – Our audience is the dearest, but on the other hand, the hardest. I learned the program while still a student, and then it stayed with me. This is romantic music - Schumann's "Children's Scenes", Chopin's ballad in F minor, Prokofiev's sonata No. 7.

The program needs to rest, then I return it to my repertoire. These are some of my favorite pieces, I’ve been playing them for 20 years, now I’ve approached this music from a completely different angle, and it will sound completely different.

I attach special importance to my solo concerts in Russia, despite not the best conditions for this. I mean, first of all, our ill-fated halls - this is a huge problem; no new halls are being built in Russia. The Mariinsky Concert Hall is a sensation, a breakthrough; in Russia there are five halls throughout the country where you can play a world-class concert.

And the halls are regrettable, and the instruments are not in the best condition, but I turn a blind eye to this, because the most important thing is the atmosphere that reigns at concerts in Russia. The eyes of the audience that comes out after the concert are worth a lot.

You can play on any wood, in any hall, just to get this energy, this contact with our audience. I never beat a program in Russia that I have to play abroad. On January 29, I performed in Paris, before that in Davos, Valery Gergiev and Yuri Bashmet gave a concert for our politicians.

It lasted for a very long time, as a result I landed in Paris an hour and a half before the concert. It was nerve-wracking, but the concert wasn’t the worst. You could say I beat myself up in Paris to play on the Russian tour, and not vice versa.

— You recently recorded a record with performances of unknown works by Sergei Rachmaninov. How come they haven't been implemented yet?

— These are Rachmaninov’s student works from 1891. Legend has it that Rachmaninov greatly valued the opinion of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, and gave these notes to him for approval. Tchaikovsky's secretary did not deliver the notes, and the trace was lost. Several years ago, employees of the Glinka Museum dug up the sheet music, restored it, and gave it to Alexander Borisovich Rachmaninoff, the composer’s grandson.

Nobody knew how to play it - after all, these were bare notes, without tempos. Alexander Borisovich and I became close; I lived several times in Rachmaninov’s house “Villa Senar” in Lucerne, Switzerland, and in his Parisian apartment. In Switzerland, on a Rachmaninov piano, the album was recorded.

This is a unique grand piano, a 1929 Steinway. Pre-war Stanways have a phenomenal sound. The upper register is like a human voice, and the bass seems to be subdued, somehow matte. A completely special feeling comes from touching the keys of this amazing instrument. Previously, such pianos were made by hand, but now their production is put on stream, like furniture.

In general, I played different instruments, some of the highest quality and some of terrible quality. 10 years ago I had a Tyumen piano at my house, the Japanese came and were surprised how I could play such a chest.

— What creative plans have you not yet been able to realize?

— I am very greedy for my repertoire, and I want to learn a lot of new things. Instrumentalists have a limitless repertoire, unlike string players and wind players. Right now I have Brahms's Second Concerto, Beethoven's 32nd Sonata, Beethoven's Fifth Concerto, and Chopin's 24 Preludes on the line. This is what I have to do as soon as possible.

I have been working on these works for a very long time; this will be a landmark work in my life. It’s not a fact that it will work out, maybe I’ll postpone it, because I really don’t want to put on stage something that doesn’t work out. I am convinced that a musician should play what is close to him at one time or another. If it's romance, then it doesn't matter what age the performer is. Horowitz and Rubinstein played romance at 90 years old.

— How do you select items for the repertoire? Do you take into account the tastes of the public?

- Certainly. Many letters come, including on the Internet, with requests to perform this or that piece. Of course, I take into account the wishes of impresarios, festival directors, orchestra directors, and my teachers, my dad, my professor. But you have to play exactly what you can penetrate to the end.

If you had asked me two years ago if I wanted to play Brahms’s Second Concerto with the New York or Vienna Philharmonic, I would have said no, because I wouldn’t play my own concerto, I wouldn’t risk it even with the greatest orchestra or a great conductor. I play what I have lived and experienced.

— How do you manage to give so many concerts?

— When I look at my schedule, sometimes I feel bad. I have a constant road condition, and this keeps me in good shape. Of course, sometimes the body gives signals. Some musicians like to play one program throughout the season, with long breaks, but I like to change the program often and play very often.

I recharge when I go on stage, all adversity, all the blues, all the painful conditions go away. When you're not feeling well, a concert is what you need. The energy that comes from the audience is the best medicine, especially with our audience. I really like to communicate with people after the concert, the public’s opinion is very important to me.

— What was the most important turning point in your life?

— When I left my hometown Irkutsk. My parents left everything in Irkutsk and went with me to Moscow. Since then, they have always been with me, my success is mainly their merit, and I value it very much.

— What do you consider to be your greatest creative success?

“I’m always dissatisfied with myself, I think that everything is still ahead.

— What advice would you give to parents whose children study music?

— Previously, every second child went to music school, and this only helped. If a child has an ear for music, talent, you need to make sure that he studies, even if he doesn’t want to. I didn’t want to study either, and I never studied much.

Since childhood, I remember that I liked to perform: at home, or at an academic concert at a music school. I knew that I could capture the audience, I even loved to parody. But the process of studying itself was akin to hell for me.

— What makes you help young musicians?

“The great tragedy of our profession is that a huge number of musicians remain unclaimed. Unfortunately, in the last 15-20 years, the ill-fated laws of show business have penetrated our classical music. Especially after the famous concerts of the three tenors in stadiums.

Not a single impresario will now invest money in young artists, because no one wants to take risks, especially in such difficult times. Every year a large number of musicians leave conservatories in Moscow and St. Petersburg; they simply end up on the street. Some go to restaurants, some to underground passages, some give up their profession altogether.

In Soviet times, there was not such a bad distribution system, when a graduate knew where he would go: even to teach at a music school, at a music school. Now this is not the case either. I have a festival “Crescendo” for young performers, which opens up new names. We give them the opportunity to play with an orchestra and perform a chamber program.

The environment is the most important thing for a musician. There is a creative summer school in Suzdal, where classes have been held for 15 years. There, children study with leading professors from Moscow and St. Petersburg conservatories. It is a matter of honor for me to support these projects. The goal of the New Names Foundation is to protect and limit talents.

—Are you worried about the crisis?

— I was recently in America, playing with the Cincinnati Philharmonic Orchestra, which also performed in St. Petersburg - this orchestra is on the verge of bankruptcy. The situation in America is now very alarming, concert attendance has dropped by 60-70 percent, and the halls are almost empty. Our audience still goes to concerts, but it will be a disaster if they are zombified every day by TV channels, which is bad for us, nothing good will come of it. People cannot be kept in panic. I arrive in the country, watch the news, and immediately begin to pound.

Of course, you need to show problems, but there is always a way out. The main thing is to maintain the trend that has occurred recently, when they began to give grants to orchestras. After 50 dollars a month, musicians began to receive 2-3 thousand. God forbid this be destroyed, it would truly be a disaster. We also need to support provincial orchestras - Novosibirsk, Krasnoyarsk, Irkutsk, Samara, Saratov, we shouldn’t forget about them either. This is why there is a cultural council under the President of the Russian Federation, of which I am a member.

The situation in theaters is very difficult. The salary at the Central Music School at the Conservatory, where I graduated, is a little more than 2000 rubles, how can you live on that? Most of our teachers teach in China, where there are about 70 million pianists.

In private schools, which are the basis of the music business in China, musicians teach not only from Moscow and St. Petersburg, but also from all over the Far East, from Irkutsk, Blagoveshchensk, Khabarovsk. We need to sound SOS! If we talk about music education, first of all we need to think about what happens in music schools.

I really don't like the word "prodigy." If a little star, a talented child, appears, they immediately try to exploit him, because it’s money! But 80 percent of such young talents disappear on the horizon. And to make a classical music star in the same way as pop stars are made is impossible in principle. You need to put 20-25 years of your life into this, with no guarantee of success.

— What would you like from journalists?

— Our newspapers are closing sections where there were reviews. Supposedly no one reads this, and if a review is published, it is always with some kind of yellow tint. But if we focus on the people who watch Full House, then we will drive ourselves into the herd.

I am being dismantled in London, Vienna, and Paris, but this is not the case here. In Irkutsk, I took out from the mezzanine the magazine “Musical Life” for 1972, with a large detailed review of the Neuhaus concert. I would like to be treated the same way.

— What do you do when a free window appears in the schedule?

“I don’t have a vacation, and I feel a loss of energy due to the constant change in time zones, but it’s very difficult to get out of the rhythm. There is also a moment of happiness here that I have worked for all my life. If you have chosen the profession of a concert pianist, you must play. Maybe in a year I will play 5 concerts a year.

What energizes me? Probably my childhood friends from Irkutsk, the city where I was born. We are going with the whole company on Lake Baikal, where you can take a steam bath and dive into an ice hole. This is a moment of happiness that I treasure very much. If I don’t visit Baikal, the taiga, which has a unique energy, the season may not work out.

I am a cheerful person, this is the only thing, perhaps, that saves me from this crazy schedule. There is a phrase by Yuri Khatuevich Temirkanov: I am afraid of people who have no sense of humor. By the way, have you heard the last joke about me? A pickpocket thief comes to Matsuev’s concert and says after the concert: what hands, what fingers, and he deals with such garbage!

— They say you are a big football fan?

- Yes, I’ve been a fan of Spartak for 23 years, but I’m happy for Andrei Arshavin, who wanted to play in England, and received this right. May God grant him success, as well as Roma Pavlyuchenko, who has already scored 12 goals there. The Tchaikovsky Competition, like the FIFA World Cup, takes place every four years.

And in 1998 it helped me a lot, because during the competition ( the winner of which was Denis Matsuev - ed.) I watched the championship and did not practice on the piano, this saved me from the crazy atmosphere when many people lost their nerves. Football for me is an outlet and salvation from a tough schedule.

— Who would you like to play four hands with?

“These people, unfortunately, are no longer alive. I would like to play with Sergei Vasilyevich Rachmaninov, with Vladimir Horowitz, with Michelangelo, with Gilels.

— When you play, how do you imagine the listener?

“I look into the hall and imagine the audience as a single whole. I am convinced that the musician is a conductor between the composer and the audience that comes to the hall. The public is the most important thing for me.