Papanas has developed regular collaborations with Simon Trpčeski, one of the world's most important pianists and today's leading musician in neighboring North Macedonia. The excellent pianist made his belated first appearance in Athens, giving only a small taste of his great talent!

The evening opened with Mozart's two-movement Sonata in E minor K.304, written at a time when the three-movement sonata of the classical period had not yet been established. Distancing himself from the restrained expression with which early classicism is associated, Papanas performed it with intense, almost early romantic theatricality, which was brilliantly balanced by Trpčeski's more poetic and melancholic playing. In the minuet, however, the more dynamic and equal violin-piano dialogue was pleasing.

More obvious was the interpretation of Brahms's 2nd Sonata for Violin and Piano, the shortest and most luminous and lyrical of his three, but perhaps also the most demanding interpretatively, as it requires a delicate balance between virtuosity and expressiveness. The 47-year-old violinist rendered it with genuine romantic gesture and rich sound, the intense melody and contemplative character conversing with Trpčeski's piano, which provided yet another valid example of stylistic flexibility and understanding.

The second part opened with a stirring performance of the Prelude and Allegro in the Style of Pugnani by the famous violinist Fritz Kreisler . In the short 7-minute work, which combines lyricism and technical challenges, Papanas gave a real demonstration of the polyphonic capabilities of his violin, utilizing his long and fruitful experience in the baroque repertoire.

The program concluded with a truly dazzling performance of Grieg's 3rd Sonata, a work once extremely popular, but now rarely heard in concert halls. Solid virtuosity, well-balanced speeds and dynamics, but sometimes more melodic and sometimes sharper phrasing, allowed Papanas to ideally project the work's changing moods, from the most dramatic to the most lyrical, and from the most dreamy to the most dance-like. His beautiful legato playing, full of passion and musicality until the celebratory finale balanced equally with the romantic temperament and narrative eloquence of Trpčeski.

Strongly applauded by the large audience, the two musicians performed three short encores, with respect to friendly cultural relations with the neighboring Balkan countries. The much-loved melodic piece Sevdana (1944) by the Bulgarian Zlatev-Tserkin, the traditional song-based, perpetually moving Capriccio No. 1 (1984) by the North Macedonian composer Suplevski, as well as the moving proto-leo by Riadis Lullaby ("In the cradle of a little orphan Macedonian"), written (1908) in times of wars with the neighbors, completed an excellent recital in every respect!

‍

The evening's centerpiece, Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1, marked a second debut at the Lingotto: that of Simon Trpčeski (Skopje, 1979), one of the most recognized pianists on the international scene. A masterful artist combining breathtaking virtuosity and intense musicality, Trpčeski trained in Macedonia before coming to the attention of the general public in the early 2000s with his London debut at Wigmore Hall and his selection as a BBC New Generation Artist, a decisive step in the launch of an international career. Since then, he has appeared with major European and American orchestras and collaborated with leading conductors, authoritatively tackling a repertoire ranging from Chopin and Brahms to the twentieth-century works of Prokofiev and Rachmaninoff. Alongside his concert activity, his cultural commitment stands out: with the Makedonissimo project he has brought the Macedonian musical tradition to the international stage, affirming an artistic personality both open and deeply rooted in his own identity.

His style reveals an energetic yet controlled pianism, attentive to formal construction and lyricism. Tchaikovsky's performance is less turgid than usual, with an almost Mozartian elegance—no coincidence, considering the Russian composer's love for the Salzburg genius, revered as a model of formal and expressive perfection and consciously honored in The Queen of Spades. After the monumental, solemn, and visionary attack, the piano asserts itself as a protagonist, never purely exhibitionistic: the dialogue with the orchestra remains intense, alternating between heroic momentum and intimate lyricism. In Trpčeski's interpretation, the concerto combines controlled emotional impetus, melodic invention, and a communicative force of marked theatricality.

In the two encores, persistently requested by the audience, the pianist once again returned to the Makedonissimo project , performing the lively Piperkovo (Paprika Dance), which he himself had developed; the even more impetuous Precipitato from Prokofiev's Sonata No. 7 was even more compelling. Before his final farewell, Honeck and the Santa Cecilia Orchestra offered a rousing Brahms's Hungarian Dance No. 1, capping off an evening that was, in many ways, memorable.

‍

Liszt’s larger works for piano and orchestra (besides the two piano concertos, there is also the Totentanz) are, unfortunately, encountered less frequently in the concert hall than the piano concertos of other Romantic and late-Romantic composers (Schumann, Grieg, Brahms, Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninoff). Yet Liszt’s Second Piano Concerto in A major, in particular, is a fascinating work and— as last night’s enthusiastic applause from the audience proved—an utterly gripping and compelling composition. The Macedonian pianist Simon Trpčeski is its eloquent and subtly virtuosic advocate.

The way Trpčeski evokes the sometimes lyrical, then again more angular treatment of the core theme—at times surrounding it with crystalline runs, then stretching, shortening, and varying it as it is integrated into powerful chords—is a marvel of pianistic gift. Here, attack stands alongside sparkling cascades; the solo cello and the piano (and later the solo violin) meet in poetic, songful, dreamlike togetherness. This is shortly thereafter replaced by a brash gallop and a march-like elevation of the core theme, with virtuoso playing by the soloist and refined glissandi.

Striking is how the master at the piano repeatedly seeks and finds eye contact not only with the conductor, but also seems to embrace the orchestra’s musicians with his affectionate glances (and, during the final applause, physically as well)—and this despite the fact that the soloist is granted hardly a moment of rest in this concerto. For Trpčeski, as for Thomas Guggeis, this was the first appearance in the large hall of the Tonhalle Zürich. However, Trpčeski had already played Liszt’s piano concerto once before, in 2018, on a tour with the Tonhalle Orchestra.

As an encore, the two musicians, Guggeis and Trpčeski, sat down together at the piano and, with obvious pleasure, played Ravel’s Laideronnette, impératrice des pagodes from Ma mère l’Oye for piano four hands. Wonderful.

Prokofiev's Piano Concerto No. 3 , the most famous of his five concertos, is a true test of virtuosity for the soloist. From the frenetic first movement, the electrifying tone that conductor and pianist would adopt as the premise of their performance was immediately clear, all without sacrificing clarity of expression. Simon Trpčeski himself, when addressing the audience before playing a couple of encores, mentioned that he was celebrating his twenty-fifth anniversary as a performer, so perhaps it would be somewhat redundant to comment here on how technically and expressively impeccable his interpretation was. Furthermore, he possesses a natural charm that makes him a delight to the audience when he is on stage. The variations in the second movement were very elegant, and the third movement was exciting in its tempo. The ovations for Trpčeski were well-deserved, and he immediately shared them with the orchestra and the conductor.

Composed in 1921, Prokofiev 's Third Piano Concerto balances virtuosity and satire, modernity and classical structure. Simon Trpčeski ( Skopje, 1979), a pianist with a solid international career and a frequent guest of leading European orchestras, approached the work with extraordinary energy and expressiveness . From the opening bars, he imposed a brilliant sound and decisive attack, with precise articulation, though at times more urgent than crystalline.

The Theme and Variations displayed flexibility and subtle nuance; the final Allegro ma non troppo , a burst of controlled energy, alternated humor with lyricism without losing its pulse. Petrenko's touch, dynamic range, and almost improvisational naturalness completed a portrait of great vitality. He accompanied with rigor and ease, underscoring the rhythmic architecture without stifling the piano's expression. The Royal Philharmonic, supple and with a pristine sound, responded with cohesion and precision, especially the woodwinds, which displayed extraordinary agility.

A score delivered with humor, dynamism, and elegance. The audience enthusiastically rewarded Trpčeski, and the pianist responded with "Dance of the Peppers," a rhythmic Macedonian dance. As if the impressive performance he had given in the concert and dance hadn't been enough, he then dared to tackle the tremendous Precipitato from Prokofiev's Seventh Sonata , dedicating it to Alfonso Aijón in fine Spanish. A breathtaking interpretation, so intense that it drew a standing ovation.

The soloist for the occasion was the Macedonian Simon Trpčeski (Skopje, 1979), whom we had already admired in the same Ibermúsica series, also accompanied by Petrenko (with the Oslo Philharmonic on that occasion) six years ago. And Trpčeski generously displayed his many virtues. As we noted then, his instrument is superb, as are his attention to sound, the variety of nuances, and the intensity of his playing. The Macedonian imbues his interpretations with remarkable energy, resulting in a very special vibrato, although at times (the aforementioned dazzling allegro ) he slightly sacrifices the clarity of an articulation that is, in reality, exquisite. But his refined sensitivity allows him to unleash the full range of expression that Prokofiev demands, from the tranquil beginning to the electrifying voltage of the allegro.

‍

Trpčeski displayed an exquisite leggiero touch , also frequently requested by Prokofiev, and great subtlety in his nuances. It is difficult to resist that vibrant energy upon which he builds a sweeping conclusion to the first movement. The central Theme with Variations demonstrated this delicacy in the leggierisimo (Variation I), but also allowed one to appreciate the capacity to offer forcefulness (Variation III) or mystery (Variation IV, with a truly delicatissimo , as Prokofiev demands, and an evanescent ppp at the end) and a suspended mixture of smile and almost mystery in the movement's final section. The final Allegro ma non troppo was another feast of rhythm and color , with a beautiful, more lyrical episode ( Meno mosso ) magnificently drawn by Petrenko. The grotesque atmosphere was superbly presented with the aforementioned four-note figures, and the ending, with its overwhelming trepidation, was received with predictable enthusiasm by the audience. Petrenko accompanied the soloist with remarkable precision and incisiveness, demonstrating a clear and fluid understanding. The orchestra responded with agility, remarkable blend, and rich sound. The woodwind soloists shone particularly brightly, but the entire ensemble delivered an enviable performance.

‍

Trpčeski, always approachable and fluent in Spanish, briefly explained that he would next perform the Pepper Dance, a popular Macedonian dance that forms part of his commitment to promoting the folk music of his country (the Makedonissimo project, in which he participates with other compatriots). The short piece added even more color and rhythm to an afternoon they were already in control of. But this must have seemed like too little of an encore, and in another brief address, he announced another special treat dedicated to Alfonso Aijón (who received a well-deserved standing ovation). And what an encore it was! None other than the tremendous, tense, obsessive, and heart-wrenching Precipitato from Prokofiev's Seventh Sonata , presented with an intensity that leaves you on the edge of your seat.

This 2010 recording can enrapture us with its ideal mix of sensitivity, warmth, balance and generosity, and its sense of give and take. Trpčeski, conductor Vasily Petrenko and the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic create rapt atmospheres, with a freshness of response that seems to spruce up the concerto as if new-minted. There's exemplary attention to detail, but also a gorgeous spontaneity; you feel that the performers are having the time of their lives. The RLPO plays with luxuriant richness of tone that manages also to keep its transparency, aided by fine recorded sound. (Avie AV2192)

As it’s so well-known, it needs a soloist who can breathe new life into it and who has the right mix of fiery virtuosity and poetry.  Soloist Simon Trpčeski not only had plenty of fire in his fingers for the dazzling pyrotechnics but he was able to wring every bit of emotion from the heart-on-sleeve lyrical sections.  Simon was also extraordinary to watch.  The way he establishes relationships with audience, conductor and orchestra is fascinating.  In this performance he coaxed a huge range of colours from the keyboard, always completely in control of what he was doing, right up to the final note at which he sprang off the piano stool.  The audience’s cheers led to more Grieg as an encore.

Monte-Carlo Philharmonic: Stunning Trpčeski, amazing Kochanovsky! The problem with listening to Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto is that you've heard it so many times by dazzling performers that you risk being disappointed. You need an extraordinary soloist to be truly satisfied. We had this soloist in Monaco. It was the Macedonian Simon Trpčeski.

A breathtaking pianist! You had to see his hands leap onto the keyboard, multiplying in dizzying octaves, making bursts of chords spring forth and then, the next moment, caress the keys with exquisite gentleness. You had to hear the roundness of his touch. You had to let yourself be surprised by these little suspenses that he created at the end of his phrases. At his side, the orchestra surrounded him with a sumptuous accompaniment. In the second movement of the concerto, he benefited from the precious responses of cellist Thierry Amadi , flautist Raphaëlle Truchot , and oboist Matthieu Bloch .

As an encore, he called on the help of the same Thierry Amadi and the violinist Liza Kerob to perform a piece of Tchaikovsky's trio. A moment of delight!

The Macedonian pianist demonstrated world-class performance and unparalleled virtuosity in a program that cleverly played with the connections between the works, on Thursday evening at the Maison des Associations et de la Culture Robert-Lieb in Bischwiller.

The festival opened with Macedonian pianist Simon Trpceski on Thursday. He has performed with more than 100 orchestras on four continents. Between a tour of the United States and a production with the Monte-Carlo Orchestra, the concert artist warmly accepted the invitation of the organizers, led by pianist Inga Kazantseva, to give a generous and confident recital to the Bischwiller audience. The works of Beethoven and Tchaikovsky, mirrored, follow one another in the first part to form a sort of gigantic fantasy with protean soundscapes.

The Russian theme from the ballet Das Waldmädchen (a lovely discovery for music lovers!) is echoed by the nostalgic autumn song October by the Russian composer. Dumka, ending in C minor, naturally segues into the Bonn master's 32 variations on a theme of the same key. In any case, one is captivated by the refinement and clarity of this keyboard, with its sparkling articulation and perfectly measured pedal strokes, and its sound appearing diaphanous in the MAC's acoustics. Subtle, clearly outlined intermediary voices emerge at every moment, opening up a permanent dialogue in a superb phrasing that transcends the lyrical essence of the scores. An unsurpassed Nutcracker! More technical, the second part further reveals the artist of the great international halls, whose virtuosity practically defies imagination. If Ravel's Valses nobles et sentimentales constitute a formidable performance, matched by a gesture of perfect purity, the transcription of the Nutcracker leaves one speechless. Trpčeski manages to blend the art of dance, the power of the orchestral palette, and its depth of field with a mastery that is difficult to match. The salutes are pouring in: a Poulenc tribute to Piaf, a Macedonian song, Elgar's Adieu, and above all a festive four-handed performance with co-director Kazantseva, on two Hungarian Dances by Brahms. Vibration(s) couldn't have started better!