Bargemusic Presents Masterworks Series: Emanuel Krasovsky in Review
Bargemusic Presents Masterworks Series: Emanuel Krasovsky
Emanuel Krasovsky, Piano
Bargemusic, Brooklyn, NY
May 28, 2016
Emanuel Krasovsky is a Lithuanian-born Israeli pianist whom one might call a musician’s musician. He has established a following of experienced music-lovers and musicians, and in some ways their high expectation for something beyond mere pianistic thrills can amount to a self-fulfilling prophecy. This is not to say that his audiences do the work for him (clearly not possible), but that the bated breath of those awaiting his magic does help welcome the music in, as it did this past Saturday at Bargemusic. Not a peep was heard from his audience during long stretches of calm pianissimos. In repertoire that can tax the untutored or impatient listener, Mr. Krasovsky’s deeply thoughtful interpretations held his avid listeners rapt through Schubert’s sprawling Sonata in B-flat (D. 960), the same composer’s Drei Klavierstücke (D. 946), and the first book of the somewhat elusive cycle On the Overgrown Path (Book I, JW VIII/17) by the Czech composer Leoš Janáček (1854-1928).
Mr. Krasovsky started with Janáček, whose musical gold has been increasingly mined in recent decades after relative neglect. Ten movements of On the Overgrown Path, an emotionally demanding group, established Mr. Krasovsky as an artist. He drew his listeners in gently with “Our Evenings” which was projected with an especially beautiful singing tone and flexibility of phrase. This listener found his style quite moving, as with the greats of the twentieth century as heard over a lifetime. All of the remaining nine movements measured up in terms of expressiveness, from the childlike innocence of “A Blown Away Leaf” and “Come with us!” to the mystical frissons of “The Madonna of Frydek” and frenetic energy of “They Chattered like Swallows.” Not even the occasional horn blast of boats could disrupt the spell (ah, the uniqueness of the floating concert hall!).
Janáček, as well as being a folklorist, was a colorist of a subtlety that still sometimes eludes pianists and listeners alike a century later. What impressed one especially about Mr. Krasovsky was his sensitivity to shading and his warmly balanced voicing, where there was always something new emerging from the musical textures. Some of Janáček’s folk-like (and hymn-like) writing can be treated in a two-dimensional way, but Mr. Krasovsky consistently plumbed the depths. Even in the cryptic closing piece, “The Barn Owl Has Not Flown Away,” he answered the tonal and emotional ambiguity with the inspired decision to follow directly into Schubert. The ensuing Drei Klavierstücke (D. 946), among the last compositions Schubert wrote (only published decades later by Brahms), were a perfect choice. Schubert’s overall symmetry and clarity made a perfect exit from the “overgrown path” and yet the kindred elements between Schubert and Janáček were also implicit. A program by pianist Jeremy Denk in recent years made a similar connection between Schubert and Janáček –– but this segue was striking in its own unique way.
If the title Drei Klavierstücke (not a title by Schubert himself) brings to mind some random miniatures, think again. Collectively longer than many of the same composer’s Sonatas (around twenty-five minutes), these three late pieces (written just months before the composer’s death) are large in scope, emotion, and pianistic challenges – sometimes akin to those of Schubert’s notoriously difficult Wanderer Fantasy. Mr. Krasovsky handled the challenges with expertise. Only occasionally did one notice a loss of tonal control as the technical demands mounted, but one headed to intermission musically fulfilled and with a sense of admiration for the pianist.
After intermission came Schubert’s great B-flat Sonata, again among the composer’s last works. This monumental first movement happened to coincide with the more active river tides, but despite some rocking of the barge the pianist kept things on an even keel (no pun intended). The divine slow movement had just the right tempo for this listener’s liking. Such slow pacing does invite some occasional glitches – but they are nearly negligible in such cases of inspired artistry. What was less negligible was some roughness in the third and fourth movements, not merely note-wise but in tone. As passages grow more challenging some sacrifices to tone quality may be inevitable – but one ideally wants as much care and attention to tone in rapid octave jumps as in tender sostenuto melodies. Mr. Krasovsky’s own playing sets a high bar, so this listener may be forgiven for wanting a level of polish that may be unrealistic in live performance!
As well as being a fine pianist with excellent credentials, Mr. Krasovsky has been a respected and beloved pedagogue for decades. Currently head of the piano department at Tel-Aviv University, he has also been a writer of articles on various musical subjects, a presenter of master classes, and a juror for many international competitions. It is not common, while wearing so many hats, to pull off such a hugely demanding solo recital, but the good news is that Mr. Krasovsky did just that with remarkable success. All in all, the evening was a musical revelation, and this listener will be back! Bravo!
