He could easily be a performer stepped forward in history from another time; engaging, affable, energetic and apparently as in love with life as he is in music, the Russian virtuoso, violinist Maxim Vengerov, who plays tomorrow night at the National Concert Hall, would be at home in a 19th-century setting. Committed to live performance, he is at his happiest wooing audiences with passionate, exciting, highly physical and earthy playing; the recording studio is not his preferred habitat.
Such is his personality, his stage presence is best described as magnetic. Most important for a musician who appears to enjoy the superstar life and can play up to 200 engagements in a year, he is content to be an old-fashioned, classical, romantic musician. Viewers of the recent musical tribute to the great Georges Solti will remember Vengerov's mesmerising performance of the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto under the eye of Mstislav Rostropovich, in which Vengerov appeared to be in conversation with his instrument. Physically, he looks far older than his years. A large, robust individual with noticeably big hands, he could easily be mistaken for a typical Italian tenor in his 30s, but Vengerov, who was appointed UNICEF's Honorary Envoy for Music, was born in Novosibirsk, Siberia in 1974.
In common with Viktoria Mullova, Vadim Repin and Dmitri Sitkovetsky, Vengerov belongs to the great Russian tradition. Yet unlike them he openly acknowledges the uniqueness of his Russian musical heritage. Although he came to the West in 1990, and settled with his parents in Israel before moving to Amsterdam, he remains a Russian who speaks only of his love for his country and particularly its music. Among virtuosi, Vengerov shares the personable approach of the American, Gil Shaham - who played in Dublin last May and is returning next week - and the now legendary Israeli, Itzhak Perlman. All three can as readily play a Jewish tune as a major concerto.
A winner of the Junior Wieniawski and Carl Flesch competitions, he was already established as an international performer when his magnificent live recording of the Prokofiev and Shostakovich violin concertos not only took the 1995 Gramophone Concerto award for 1995, ahead of Evgeni Kissin's Prokofiev and Shaham's excellent coupling of Barber and Korngold, it also won the overall Record of the Year category. That win was highly significant: not only was he the youngest ever winner, that recording testifies to Vengerov's exceptional musicality.
Perhaps the key to Vengerov's genius, in addition to his majestic technique, sweet sounds in the high positions, feel for the dramatic and instinctive daring, is his curiosity and courage. Daniel Barenboim with whom he has recorded the Sibelius and Nielson violin concertos and most recently, Brahms sonatas, has referred to the fact that unlike many leading musicians, Vengerov does not appear to be asking what can he do with the music, but rather "what can I do with this violin?"
The son of an oboist father and a choir-teacher mother, Vengerov had no choice; music was to be his life. Initially it was his father's idea that the toddler should learn the violin. His mother was more relaxed about it, as the child was already involved in her choir which consisted of some 500 children.
Parents will be shocked by details of his early music regime. Vengerov, who is a lively, articulate character, enjoys telling the story of how as a toddler he would wait for his mother's return from work. After supper, at about 7 or 8 p.m., he would begin practising. These sessions could on until about 3 a.m. At that stage, he became a typical little boy, albeit in bizarre circumstances, riding his tricycle around the courtyard. At least the neighbours were shocked on his behalf. Yet considering that Vengerov exchanged normality for the life of a child prodigy, he appears to be more than at peace with himself and the world.
At five he was brought to Galina Turchaninova, a famous teacher. Lessons went badly at first. The child did not take to the strict middle-aged woman who was well used to teaching gifted musicians. He refused to play and only relented when his mother, upset at the prospect of Turchaninova terminating the arrangement, began to cry. Her son came to her rescue and played 17 pieces from memory. It defused the situation - and his lessons continued.
His musical needs eventually brought him to Moscow and a school for talented children. His teacher and grandparents moved with him. Incessantly informed of his genius since he was a child, Vengerov, who was hailed as a master at six and made his first recording at 10, has matured and remained level-headed. His sense of humour has proved invaluable and he is unafraid of playing the showman, liking his public to know he enjoys pool and jazz. At a relatively early age he learnt the importance of listening to all the music, not just the part he is playing.
When discussing music he tends to respond to pieces in an imaginative and narrative way rather than in terms of technique. He brings this flair to Master-classes. Not surprisingly, in some of these sessions he advises on the art of the "encore" - precisely because he enjoys the unpredictability and spontaneity that concert ritual offers. If a musician can paint pictures through his music Vengerov, who plays a 1723 Stradivarius, surely can. Tomorrow night's programme includes Brahms's Sonata No 2 in A, Prokofiev's Sonata No 1 in F; Ravel's Tziganne, Sarasate's Caprice Basque, Rachmaninov's Vocalise and Waxman's Carmen Fantasy. It is an exciting, emotional selection and Vengerov is an irresistible performer. Either of his Prokofiev Shostakovich double bills - he recorded the second violin concertos of both composers, also under Rostropovich, in 1997 - should prove ideal preparation for a chance to hear one of the world's great violinists.
Maxim Vengerov performs at the National Concert Hall tomorrow at 8 p.m.