This recital showed a less exuberant Trifonov than the one who dazzled the Edinburgh International Festival audience in August. Here his back looked more stooped from the daily hours at the keyboard, and while he stopped short of singing along a la Gould or Goode, his heavy breathing and anguished expressions revealed the sometimes frightening degrees to which he feels implicated in the music he plays. Trifonov didn't so much captivate by drawing a broad range of colours out of the piano or by providing grand perspective on his repertoire; that depth will presumably develop in the years and decades to come. But he did captivate: with his ability to whip up a fury of notes and a dead-calm reverie in thrilling succession, with the total emotional conviction of his playing.