Years back, within the space of a month, I attended two recitals by the elusive Russian pianist Grigory Sokolov. The first took place in a tiny church at the Roque d’Anthéron festival in southern France, the second at the Queen Elizabeth Hall in London. He programmed thebut he played them quite differently. The unifying factor to his interpretations was the electrifying energy he brought to each recital in the moment of performance.
