'MUSIC IS LIKE A WORKOUT FOR THE SOUL'

Partners in life and art, pianists Pavel Kolesnikov and Samson Tsoy are transforming the classical scene — just don’t call them rebels. By Lillie Rage

- By Lillie Rage

I wasn't expecting to fall in love with live classical music. The odds stacked against it were various: a short attention span; growing up with parents playing ABBA; and a preconception (which I still don’t consider entirely unjustified) that its audiences were snobby, elitist and out-of-touch. At any rate, I could never find a light outside Wigmore Hall — the crossover between smokers and the classical music audience is precisely zero. And perhaps most fatally, I had a notion that classical musicians grew up in wood-panelled practice rooms, shielded from relatable experience — lacking the piece of grit around which a pearl could form.

But two winters ago, when my friend Jacob asked me to come to Wigmore Hall to hear a pianist he promised I would like, I agreed. Although part of this was about how much I enjoy the feeling of being in that magical venue — not least because it’s one of the few places where I’m guaranteed to be among the youngest these days.

However, when Pavel Kolesnikov strode out on stage — young, impish, impeccably tailored in Yohji Yamamoto — there was a palpable energy of cool. I wondered if he could see me; I wanted him to like me. I had that vague feeling of telepathy you get in the presence of great performers. I sat on the edge of my seat throughout, hyper-aware of each note and every bit of silence in between.

It wasn't long before I encountered an equally brilliant pianist, Samson Tsoy. Described by Andrew Marr as a “fearless Formula One driver” of the piano, Tsoy happens to be Kolesnikov’s partner both in life and occasionally on stage.