San Francisco Classical Voice

Robert Schwartz's recital Friday at Old First Church was a study in contrasts, pianistically and musically. Even his quick step as he bounded on stage belied an essentially thoughtful artist. The program ranged from the most intimate of Schubert sonatas, the G major, to a group of dazzling Rachmaninoff etudes-tableaux, which usually come in groups of three and work well as closers.Schwartz played nine of them and revealed that they take a lot more than great fingers to play well.

Schwartz has a big technique. The pianistic challenges that the Rachmaninoff etudes pose were always met with a sense of total command of the instrument. Almost all have rapid double notes and tendon-destroying chordal passages. These were handled with no sense of strain. Impressive as this was, there was a sense of restraint that seemed to say, "If I really let go, the piano will burst into flames, and we wouldn't want that." I for one, would have.

I felt that the images conjured by the music only really began to take hold in the slow C minor etude, marked "lugubrious." Here, Schwartz seemed to enter the spirit of the music completely and convincingly. In the chantlike passage, the playing sounded like a chorus of departed (or deported) monks and the voicings of the harmonies were magical. He has the ability to induce a trancelike state, which was just right for this eerie piece.

In the Schubert Sonata there seemed to be a contradiction at work: Schwartz seemed most comfortable with the extroverted qualities in the music that emerge from time to time. Schubert called this work "Fantasie-Sonata," and it was this sense of fantasy that seemed hindered by an often-four-square approach to the phrasing. Accents were a little too predictable, and the Schubertian lilt appeared only rarely. Although there were wonderful moments that hinted of depths to be discovered, Schwartz did not go far enough into the pianissimo range (let alone the triple-piano) to get the sense of hushed stillness that so frequently haunts each movement. The trio of the Scherzo did have this mysterious sound, and it was beguiling indeed.

The concert began with a thoughtful rendition of the "Serious Variations" of Mendelssohn. It was perhaps best suited to Schwartz' pianism: lyrical but restrained, and bearing its sorrows with a noble composure.

(Jerry Kuderna is a pianist who teaches at Diablo Valley College and is a host (with Sarah Cahill) of the Berkeley TV program, Stop, Look, and Listen.)

©2000 Jerry Kuderna, all rights reserved