(In a deep, gruff, intense, whispering voice)
From the minds who brought you the Russian National Orchestra, comes an imposing pianist,
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an electrifying star of staggering force.
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A pianist so jaw dropping, so strong,
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you’ll vociferously ovate. A pianist, six-foot four and from the cold of Siberia, who brings massive strength and seemingly effortless power
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to Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No. 3; a pianist who brings a full-metal assault to a spiky warhorse.
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Accompanied by a symphony possessed of a dark, deep-pile sonority with balances dominated
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by its ample strings, Prokofiev will be set on fire. Together, they laugh at landmines.
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They laugh at nuclear bombs.
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The Miami Herald calls it, “...one of the most thrilling edge-of-the-seat adrenaline rides of the season.”
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You’ll be left... high. His name?
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Denis Matsuev. Can. You. Top. This? Coming to a theater near you.
3/20/08
"...Winningly Sardonic..." -The Detritus Review
Posted by Empiricus at 12:41 PM
Labels: Denis Matsuev, Lawrence A. Johnson, Miami Herald, Prokofiev, Vladimir Putin
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2 comments:
PS: That's me in the striped suit next to Putin.
PPS: Oh yeah. The analysis. Um. Overboard imagery, sound bites (the performer's resume gold mine), etc.
PPPS: How 'bout that title? "Russian pianist sets fire to Prokofiev" I'd pay to see that.
The first two photos aren't of Denis Matsuev.
They're from a little-known make-up test for the never-produced Abbott and Costello Meet the Casanova Frankenstein, starring Ray Liotta.
Sadly, this picture never got out of development due to lack of funding and the fact that Abbott and Costello have been dead for over 30 years.
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