The man who held the Russian soul in his hands
Rachmaninoff’s name has long since become a brand. His music haunts the piano students perspiring in music schools no less than it does the covetous, concert pianists rubbing their hands together as they watch their bank balances balloon with every new performance of the great composer’s hits. The music also haunts his rapturous listeners, who freeze like deer in the headlights when they hear the first chords of Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2.