An American Dream VAN CLIBURN
As American pianist Van Cliburn (1934-2013) emerged seemingly overnight from relative obscurity into worldwide fame following his triumph at the 1958 Tchaikovsky Competition in Moscow, nearly everyone wanted to claim him. The Soviets, for whom the playing of the tall, attractive Texan seemed even ‘more Russian’ than that of native performers, cherished both his heartfelt musicality and a persona marked by exaggerated naivety and folksy charm. Soviet Premiere Nikita Khrushchev, a fearsome bear of a man, was instantly smitten; esteemed pianist Emil Gilels actually kissed Cliburn in public following one competition performance (in violation of the rules). Ordinary Muscovites swamped him when he appeared on the street.
Little wonder. He was unusual: six foot four and capped by bushy blond hair (the American ambassador’s wife dubbed him ‘Brillo Top’). His face had an Irish lilt, with its finely sculpted jaw and cheekbones; thin, sensual lips; and cornflower blue eyes. And he was oh, so thin! When seated at the piano, he looked like ‘a peapod with great Jack the Giant Killer hands’, said one of his managers, Schuyler Chapin. Critic Winthrop Sargeant described the pianist’s fingers as a ‘bunch of asparagus’. But he glowed with a charisma right out of Hollywood.
Returning to the United States, he became
