Maria Razumovskaya digs through the archives to cast fresh light on the extraordinary life of the great Soviet pianist Emil Gilels <\/p>
E<\/span>mil Grigoryevich Gilels was one of the greatest musicians of his time, one of the best pianists of all time<\/a><\/strong>, a pianist with staggering technique and \u2018golden\u2019 sound who redefined our understanding of what the piano could do. Even the formidable Sviatoslav Richter admitted that he thought twice before performing pieces associated with his fellow Soviet pianist, steering clear of Rachmaninov<\/a><\/strong>\u2019s Third Piano Concerto and Prokofiev<\/a><\/strong>\u2019s Eighth Piano Sonata.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n The public life of Gilels is well documented and his career intertwined with many of the iconic musical moments of the 20th century. When he made his solo debut in America against the backdrop of Cold War tensions in 1955, he was the first Soviet artist to visit the US since the Second World War.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p><\/div> <\/section> He was met with uneasy silence when he walked towards the piano, but arose to thunderous ovation. That same year he was the soloist in Tchaikovsky\u2019s first Piano Concerto with Leonard Bernstein<\/a> at the UN headquarters to mark the 10th anniversary of the institution.<\/span><\/p>\n Later, as the chairman of the jury of the First International Tchaikovsky Competition in Moscow in 1958, it was Gilels\u2019s task to inform the Soviet premier Nikita Khrushchev that contrary to the contest\u2019s intended political agenda, there was no question that the first prize was destined for an American, Van Cliburn. But what made this pianist tick off-stage? And how did his life and experiences shape his performing personality? With this year marking the century of his birth, it\u2019s an ideal time to explore this most private of individuals, as revealed by rare and previously unpublished interviews and documents held in the Emil Gilels Archive.<\/span><\/p>\n\n