Yevgeny Petrov cuts an elegant figure on stage. Impeccably dressed in a crisp tuxedo and white bow tie, he sways slowly and gracefully, almost dancing, to the music of the main attraction -- his clarinet. When the music stops, he stops, and takes a modest bow, barely smiling. Women rush up with flowers and the audience demands an encore. He obliges -- three times -- but he never loses his cool reserve.


At home, it's a different story. He shuffles to the door in his tapochki, a pale shadow behind a smiling, talkative crowd that includes his mother, his grandmother, and several of his young students -- up-and-coming musicians celebrating with tea and cake following a successful recital at the Moscow Conservatory the previous evening. It's a distant image from his stage persona, with Petrov sporting shiny blue track pants and an old plaid shirt, and contentedly letting everyone else do the talking for him.


At 23, Petrov is one of Russia's finest musicians and one of the world's best classical clarinetists. His March 19 sold-out concert at the Conservatory's Rachmaninoff Hall -- which included works by Schubert and Glinka and featured additional performances by pianist Valery Pyasetsky and bassoonist Stanislav Katenin -- was one of only a few local appearances the musician regularly makes, but he has already become a seasoned performer abroad.


Since taking second prize at the 1990 International Clarinet Competition in Geneva, Petrov has performed numerous times in Japan, Germany, France, Mexico and the United States, as well as issuing two CDs and seven radio recordings. Now in his fifth and final year at the Conservatory, studying under master clarinetist Vladimir Sokholov -- his mentor since the age of 10 -- Petrov plans to continue performing as often as possible, both solo and with orchestras.


"I like both equally," said Petrov, who clearly likes giving interviews considerably less. Apart from playing the piano in his spare time, he claims to have no hobbies -- not even listening to music. Having taken up the clarinet at 6, at the recommendation of a doctor looking for a possible cure for his chronic tonsillitis, he unquestionably puts his instrument first. Just to make matters absolutely clear, Petrov's resume features a personal quote about the importance of a musician ridding himself "of everything that is unnecessary in his life" and the danger of being a "dilettante" in all things.


Around his students, though, he seems to lighten up, laughing and obligingly playing an impromptu version of Rimsky-Korsakov's "Flight of the Bumblebee" as Denis Bokaryov, 13 and Nikita Agofonov, 10, watch attentively. Up close, the effort that goes into music is audible -- tiny squeaks and gasps that belie his seamless and powerful playing. When asked if he can do the same, Nikita, whose clarinet is nearly as tall as he his, shakes his head, saying gravely, "I haven't learned how yet."


"The neighbors don't mind at all," said Petrov's beaming mother, Natalya, as he continued to play, this time with his two young pupils and a booming piano accompaniment. "They're used to it. They come to all his concerts."


Though clarinetists rarely hold rank among the flashier of classical music superstars, Petrov, who currently earns up to $3,000 per concert abroad, can expect to rank among world-class clarinet soloists when he graduates from the Conservatory this June. Despite his professed impartiality to solo over orchestral work, his soaring solo performances seem a perfect complement to suit his fluid, dancing style.


"The Japanese actually asked me why I moved so little. There are some clarinet players who move all over the stage," he said, sitting nearly motionless in his chair. "I would say that I move an average amount."