San Francisco Classical Voice

Stephen Kovacevich

A program of the late works of Beethoven and Schubert demands a pianist of the highest interpretive skills. More than a fine pianist, that person must be a fine musician with a solid grasp of musical structure, capable of both dramatic playing and sublime lyricism, and must also be an artist able to touch the listener's deepest thoughts and feelings. That was the challenge for Stephen Kovacevich for the second of his two concerts in one week at UC Berkeley's Hertz Hall last Sunday. While he did not succeed equally on all of these counts, there was still much to admire in his performance of this program of masterworks.

The California-born Kovacevich, who resides in England, played the final sonatas of Schubert, B-Flat D. 960, and Beethoven, C Minor op. 111, excerpts from his Bagatelles op. 119, and the set of 6 Bagatelles op. 126, the composer's final work for the piano.

Kovacevich's tonal variety is somewhat limited, ranging from an often exquisitely gossamer and delicate pianissimo to a rather clangorous and somewhat noisy forte. His forte is decidedly not in forte playing, but rather in the quieter and more delicate passages. In the best of these moments, as in the more intimate sections of the Bagatelles and throughout the Schubert, Kovacevich held the audience in rapt attention and created the illusion of time standing still as we listened to a shifting array of colors and nuances.

On the opposite side, the first movement of the Beethoven op.111 was banged out in relentless manner, giving the music a one-dimensional character that quickly grew tiresome, especially when accompanied by the pianist's annoying mannerism of making distracting vocal noises in the loudest passages.

The program began with Beethoven's final major work for the piano, the 6 Bagatelles op. 126. Unlike the monumental 9th Symphony which immediately precedes this set, the Bagatelles are among the composer's most intimate creations, revealing both the tender and quirky aspects of his character with brevity and focus.

Kovacevich has long been an exponent of these miniature masterpieces; indeed, I grew up on his 1975 Phillips recording of these works, done under the name Stephen Bishop before he began using his birth name, Kovacevich. His interpretation has not changed radically over the years (a comparison revealed that his tempi are remarkably similar), but his approach has deepened. The more lyrical ones emerged with a pellucid beauty of tone and an other-worldly sense of poise.

If the Bagatelles were compelling, Kovacevich's Schubert was often mesmerizing. In a recent interview, the pianist commented on his feelings about Schubert and the wide range of emotion in his music. Kovacevich's playing of this most lyrical of all sonatas effectively captured the paradoxical elements crucial to any fine interpretation of Schubert, namely the juxtaposition of naïve simplicity with the darkest moments of metaphysical searching.

The pianist's sure sense of structure was immediately clear in the first movement. Even with the lengthy repeat in the first movement, Kovacevich held the music together and never allowed the melodic line or the musical intensity to sag. If the second movement failed to take one to the highest plane, it was never less than beautiful. The brief third movement emerged with a fleet delicacy that was lighter than air--just as Schubert's marking, Allegro vivace con delicatezza, indicates. I sometimes wished the pianist would allow the sound to "smile" more in the final movement, but in view of the overall excellence of his conception, this was a minor point. The performance earned for him the first of two standing ovations of the afternoon.

The second half began with the last four of the set of 11 Bagatelles op.119. Even more than the op. 126 set, these bagatelles are true trifles, the four pieces lasting a total of less than five minutes. The amusing Bagatelle No.10 must surely be Beethoven's shortest work, a mere 12 measures of music requiring less than ten seconds to perform! Given the infrequency of performances of these little gems and Kovacevich's ability with them, I for one would have been content to sit another ten minutes to hear the entire set.

The segment from op.119 was really a warm-up to the final work of the program, Beethoven's mighty Sonata in C Minor op.111 (written in 1821-22). Unfortunately, here one felt the pianist's limitation most strongly. Especially in the first movement, Kovacevich's tonally constricted loud playing limited the musical expression to sounding merely angry instead of tragically defiant. Here, in contrast to the rest of the program, in which musical details were finely-etched, the pianist smeared much of the passage work with the pedal and failed to bring the necessary breadth to the music.

If the first movement is about struggle or storming the heavens, the second movement is a sublime set of variations that are surely about transcendence. The first half of the movement builds steadily in speed and intensity to the third variation, a remarkable moment of Dionysian abandon in which Beethoven anticipates what will sound like jazz in another hundred years. In Kovacevich's hands, this section emerged as tiresomely banged out. Once past this, there followed many moments of hushed beauty and real artistry.

Ultimately, this performance of op.111 remained hit-or-miss, with admirable moments, but without the true sense of catharsis that one feels in the greatest performances of this towering masterpiece. My overall response to Sunday's concert was that of mixed admiration for a serious artist with strong musical convictions who causes one to think deeply about the music being played, yet doesn't quite take the listener to the highest level of inspiration.

(Pianist William Wellborn performs and lectures in the United States and Europe, and from 1995-97 was host of the program "Piano Legacy" on San Francisco station KDFC. Wellborn is on the faculty of the San Francisco Conservatory, where he teaches courses in piano, piano history, and opera.)

©1999 William Wellborn, all rights reserved