In the Right Hands

by Peter Burwasser

Jerome Lowenthal must have known he would be facing an audience of pianists and pianophiles for his alumni recital at Settlement Music School. The first half of his program, especially, seemed designed to appeal to the connoisseur, with interesting connections between apparently unrelated pieces. He opened with a pairing of Bach and Brahms, a sinfonia and a capriccio, respectively, which were rendered with a boldness of color and emphasis on harmonic quirkiness that lent the music a contemporary feel. Contemporary circa 1971, perhaps? That is when George Rochberg wrote his "Carnival Music" for Lowenthal, which quotes both the Brahms and Bach works, submerged in muddy expressionism. Elsewhere, this piece is a lighthearted romp, a terrific showpiece for a virtuoso like Lowenthal.

The Philadelphia-born Lowenthal, performing as part of Settlement's Distinguished Alumni Recital Series, also played what he calls "a garland of cadenzas for Beethoven's Concerto No. 4 in G Major," consisting of two 19th-century versions of the cadenza as well as one of Beethoven's own. As Lowenthal explained from the keyboard, it was customary for a pianist, or another composer, to write the cadenzas for classical concertos. But the ingenious (and gaudy and stylistically clashing) cadenzas of Clara Schumann and Leopold Godowsky did not signal a clarion call for a revival of these oddities. Lowenthal is famous for resurrecting flashy monstrosities of the 19th century, and these giddy period pieces acted as a salute to that aspect of his career.

The second half of the program was all Chopin, including two mazurkas and the towering Sonata in B Minor. These were rough-hewn performances, with more than a few moments of quick-witted improvisation as the pianist's hands came down in the wrong place. But the spirit and emotion of the music came through with unusual power. The mazurkas seemed brawnier than intended by Chopin but were enlivened by a keen sense of authentic mazurka rhythms. The sonata loomed bigger still, presented as a huge stew of grand melodies, explosive crescendos and furtive motifs surrounding a rich and contemplative slow movement.

Lowenthal gave his first public appearance in this very hall as a child prodigy in the late 1930s, which freighted these performances with special sentiment. He dedicated the Chopin to the memories of his late wife, to the Philadelphia philanthropist Freddy Mann, and to his teacher, William Kapell. With crashing energy and huge heart, the ghost of the mighty Kapell was conjured, hovering about a memorable afternoon of flesh-and-blood music-making.