Stroke impairs 1989 Cliburn gold medalist Alexei Sultanov.(Knight Ridder Newspapers)

FORT WORTH, Texas _ He lies heavily against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut. The hair above his left temple is growing back. The surgeons didn't remove the thick, dark braid that he has been growing for the past several years, and it rests against his shoulder.

His right hand moves restlessly across an imagined keyboard. Perhaps he plays Liszt's Mephisto Waltz or maybe it's a Mozart sonata or something from Chopin or Beethoven. It could be one of his own compositions, some jazz or even his own arrangement of "La Traviata." His left hand is a tight fist.

The silent music rises through the ether, reminding heaven that he is here, a prisoner longing to escape.

Some might say that Alexei Sultanov is a magician who bewitches his audiences and sends them soaring into the uncharted territory of celestial rapture _ or diving into the muddy watercolor realm of melancholy. Some critics say he is a rebel whose musical interpretations are too unorthodox, too crass and too immature to be considered great.

In fact, Alexei is a fearless performer, a concert pianist who stirs emotion wherever he goes. He has a large and enthusiastic following of international devotees who adore him, but his career might have been different if he hadn't won the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition in 1989.

He was 19 that year, a puzzling mix of shy schoolboy and bold performer. He wore a white turtleneck under a dark suit too warm for Texas in May. His socks were white. His thick, dark hair was a shaggy, shoulder-length mane that almost covered his dark eyes. There was the faintest shadow of a boyish mustache across his upper lip that made him appear all the more youthful, but his command of the keyboard made the audience hold its breath.

His fingers flashed over the keys. The sweat dripped into his eyes and ran down his smooth cheeks. His hair grew damp. The music thundered and whispered and groaned. He shut his eyes as if enraptured by the sound.