By the time Cliburn was scheduled to play his third and final round in the competition, all tickets were sold out. There wasn't even standing room. Like all participants, he had to perform concertos by both Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff. He chose Tchaikovsky's No. 1 in B-flat Minor, and Rachmaninoff's No. 3 in D-Minor. The orchestra was conducted by Kiril Kondrashin of whom Cliburn sings only the highest praises: "He was one of the most fabulous conductors that Russia ever produced.

After Van finished playing, the Hall burst into applause! Everything backstage was in absolute confusion. "There was a rule that after you had taken your bow and left the stage, you could never return again." But the ovation continued for eight and a half minutes. "Suddenly, I saw Gilels coming towards me," Van recalls. "He took me by the hand and led me back on stage where he embraced me publicly. The year before, I had heard this brilliant pianist play at Carnegie Hall and had admired him immensely, so his extraordinary public gesture overwhelmed me. He saw the jurists giving him a standing ovation and also was able to distinguish Khruschev's daughter and Queen Elisabeth of Belgium up in the Officials' Boxes. "It was such a thrilling moment." But the competition wasn't over. Several finalists had still not performed.

It became clear to Gilels that the only thing he could do about this Cliburn phenomenon was to approach Khruschev directly about the Prize and let him make the decision. So together with the Minister of Culture, Ekaterina Furtsava, they sought Khruschev's opinion. "Well, what are the professionals saying?" Khruschev wanted to know. "Is Cliburn the best?" They avowed that he was."Then, in that case," concluded the Communist Party Chief, "give him the Prize!"
23 years old. Twenty fucking three. At twenty three, I was still asking my mom what was for dinner, and not eating if she didn't feel like cooking that night. My God. At twenty three, I still had schoolbooks and "sweethearts." But then again, I lived a fairly sheltered life. Up to a point, and then suddenly all hell broke loose. Right around twenty three, if I remember right.

Van Cliburn went on to tour relentlessly, pretty much nonstop until 1978, and to be forgotten, as all real musicians are, sooner rather than later. He worked tirelessly to promote classical music, to establish educational foundations and competitions for young students, to just generally elevate us all. He seems to get more derision than respect these days, and I will never understand that. Nor do I want to, frankly. Not in an age where "music" means "ripped off guitar and drum tracks with monotonous dirty limericks recited over 'em." Not in an age where...well, that's a whole other rant, and maybe I'll get to it someday.