Soviet Virtuoso

The first Soviet artist of stature to perform in the U.S. since Composer-Pianist Sergei Prokofiev's visit 34 years ago is Emil Gilels, who comes as Soviet Russia's "foremost pianist." Following the "spirit of Geneva," he was admitted to the U.S. as an "official" so that he would not have to be fingerprinted under the McCarran Immigration Act. But his fingers are making an unforgettable impression on U.S. audiences.

When Conductor Eugene Ormandy asked Gilels (pronounced Gill-ells) what he wanted to play at his opening concerts with the Philadelphia Orchestra in Philadelphia and New York, Gilels suggested: Beethoven's Third, Prokofiev's Third, the Tchaikovsky Concerto No. 1. He meant all three, was pained to learn that Ormandy had chosen only one--the Tchaikovsky. As Pianist Gilels stepped onto the stage of Manhattan's Carnegie Hall last week, his short, stocky figure made him look boyish, his high cheekbones and flat face made him look Russian. But he did not seem alien. Like any pianist, he laboriously cranked his piano stool up and down before getting down to business. Then, after the orchestra swept into the big, resonant opening chords, Gilels hammered out the all too familiar response with incredible vitality. His notes were crisp without dryness, brassy without clangor. With his chestnut hair tossing over his face, he played as if he believed that he was waging a titanic struggle against the inexorable orchestra.

Little intricacies came through as if etched, loud octaves as if the fingers of his right and left hands were attached by a coupling mechanism. Gilels' brilliance left some listeners with the same feeling in the ear that a flash of lightning can cause in the eyes.

When the concerto ended, Gilels got an ovation that would have made most Western pianists euphoric. The Russian never cracked a smile. At 39, Gilels is used to applause, having played his first concert at twelve (in his native Odessa). No single concerto can be a thorough test of a pianist's capabilities. The full measure of Gilels' musicianship for Americans will come this week, when he gives a Carnegie Hall recital without orchestra. Meanwhile, it was plain that the Soviet pianist is a phenomenal technician with conviction and passion. Leaving the stage after last week's concert, Ormandy was heard to say: "This boy really purifies a work that has become vulgarized through use and misuse. He is one of the greatest."

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