So that’s how long twenty-five years is. Just under half my life so far. Does it feel like it? Well no if I think back to that night of May 10, 1985 in Roy Thomson Hall when we all anxiously awaited the jury’s decision in the one-time-only Toronto International Bach Piano Competition. I had just performed along with the three other finalists a Bach Concerto with the TSO under Andrew Davis (not yet Sir Andrew!), and my final own-choice selection, Liszt’s powerful “Aprės une Lecture de Dante”. When I walked on stage to perform that virtuoso piece, TV cameras and a sold-out audience all focussed on me, I knew I had to show everything I had. For ten years, since the age of 16, I had been on the international piano competition circuit, winning many prizes but lacking the “big one”. Winning this would, I knew, launch me worldwide and put an end to competitions for life. It wasn’t easy being in the spotlight on home territory. If I lost, all would know (in those days it was easier to hide such a thing if it were on the other side of the ocean), and say that the Russians were better anyway. If I won there was the danger that people would say it was fixed. I needed to really show I deserved it. Bach had always been in my life from the time I was born—unlike many competitors who had learned it only in order to participate in the competition. But I knew this was my repertoire, too, so I felt I could do it. CONTINUE READING >
