Tim Smith, The Baltimore Sun Weekend in review: Distinctive pianist Michael BerkovskyIn the midst of that quirky wind storm on Saturday, I breezed into the Baltimore Museum of Art to catch the first half of Michael Berkovsky's piano recital. Time very well spent.
It's not surprising to encounter talented pianists, but it sure is fun to hear one who has something distinctive to say. (Better acoustics would have helped him say even more, I'd bet; the piano sounded rather muffled. I wonder if it would be better placed closer to the edge of the stage.) I was taken with Berkovsky from the start in Beethoven's "Tempest" Sonata. There were a few technical slips, but the playing generated effective suspense and tension right away. Then, the defining moment -- the two ghostly recitative passages toward the end of the first movement. Berkovsky sculpted them the way a really intuitive singer would phrase them, and that made all the difference. The effect was haunting and absorbing, and I felt certain then that this was no routine keyboard talent. I was even more convinced when Berkovsky turned to two Liszt transcriptions of Schubert songs -- "Serenade" and "Gretchen at the Spinning Wheel." His performances of these two pieces revealed remarkable sensitivity and color, a deep sense of the dramatic arc to each song, a natural application of rubato. Where some performers concentrate on the Liszt side of these works, all those brilliant pianistic embellishments, Berkovsky zeroed in on the soul of Schubert that still inhabits the indelible melodies. And when the pianist turned to an all-Liszt score, "Vallee d'Obermann," he employed those same qualities to fashion quite a poetic experience. It's possible to get even more warmth, drama and scope out of this music (see Horowitz, V.), but Berkovsky revealed impressive technical and interpretive skills. I was sorry I had to slip away after that (pieces by Mozart and Gershwin were slated for the second half), but I hope I'll have another opportunity to hear him again before too long. Meanwhile, to give you a taste of Berkovsky's talent, here he is in the concluding minutes of Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 3, performed with the Peabody Symphony conducted by Leon Fleisher: Fred Volkmer MUSIC REVIEW Michael Berkovsky, pianist Levitas Center for the Arts
This past Saturday, November 11, at the Levitas Center for the Arts, we heard the second recital of the year in the Southampton Cultural Center’s ongoing series of piano performances. The Levitas Center is the Cultural Center’s new performance hall and it is acoustically alive and visually a thing of beauty, a space that is worthy of the kind of performances this series has provided. The level of performance in these recitals is the equal of anything to be found anywhere, and for this we must thank the organizer and presenter of the series, Liliane Questel, herself a classical pianist and a member of the Cultural Center Board.
| The pianist on Saturday was Michael Berkovsky, an alumnus of Pianofest who made his Avery Fisher Hall debut in April of last year. Mr. Berkovsky is quiet and unassuming in demeanor and simply settled down at the piano to play several of the great masterworks of the repertoire. He was in all ways a servant of the music and gave us a performance that was nothing less than astonishing. The first work on his program was Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 21 in C Major, Op. 53 “Waldstein.” It is named after Beethoven’s friend and benefactor Count Ferdinand von Waldstein and it marks the pivotal point in his compositional career when the solo works required nothing less than a virtuoso to perform them. Mr. Berkovsky was more than up to it and brought to the work a flawless technique and a scrupulous musicianship. He favored transparent textures and tempos that moved along without being frantic. There was a craggy grandeur in Mr. Berkovsky’s dazzling playing that reminded us that for Beethoven these compositions had a “life or death” kind of urgency. And though there are many fortissimo passages in the work, I admired the sheer elegance of touch and control that produced so many exquisite pianissimos. The final movement was introduced by a brief central slow movement, actually titled “Introduzione,” whose ambiguous silences created a kind of tension that was only relieved by the sunny warmth of the rondo. This is music in which simple beauty of expression is counterpoised with a youthful exuberance. Mr. Berkovsky moved on to the Four Mazurkas, Op. 17 of Chopin. The mazurka is a Polish folk dance which Chopin introduced to serious music. It is written three beats to a measure with the accent on the second beat. Mr. Berkovsky conjured a world of drawing rooms and candlelight, of swirling gowns and formal dress. But the folk element could not be denied and every now and then we caught a glimpse of the hob-nailed boot. The plaintive fourth mazurka nearly broke the heart with its beauty. Surprisingly Mr. Berkovsky went directly into the final work of the evening, the Rachmaninoff Sonata No. 2, in B Flat Minor, Opus 36, not even pausing for applause, so caught up was he in the musical world he was creating. Ms. Questel later made note of the “missing intermission.” Rachmaninoff originally wrote this sonata in 1913, and after playing it for many years realized that it was too massive and complex. As he said “…so many voices are moving simultaneously, and it is too long. Chopin’s Sonata lasts nineteen minutes and all has been said.” He revised it in 1931, and it was this version that Mr. Berkovsky played. Interestingly, Rachmaninoff reduced the playing time of the sonata to nineteen minutes. Vladimir Horowitz, incidentally, didn’t like either version and created his own amalgam of the two, of which Rachmaninoff approved. All three versions have their partisans. Not to mince words, this was a wonderfully impressive traversal of an incredibly demanding work. Mr. Berkovsky conveyed a constant sense of sound in motion, almost lapidary in his precise fingerwork, yet always capturing the monumentally romantic sweep of the work. The sonata is certainly the apotheosis of romanticism and Mr. Berkovksy gave it his all. He is clearly a pianist to watch and there is no question that we will be hearing more of him in the future. "New York Sun/ Jay Nordlinger- Playing the piano was Michael Berkovsky, a student
in the master’s program at Juilliard. He proved himself alert, sensitive, and
musical – this was especially apparent in his accentuation and dynamics." Crítica de música: Pianista limpio, piano sucio » Compensado:
La sustitución de último momento no defraudó al público. Sonoridad límpida, contrastada en dinámica, precisión rítmica, dedos ágiles y seguros, junto al fraseo fluido y coherente, engalanaron las interpretaciones del pianista canadiense Michael Berkovsky, sustituto de última hora del inglés Robin Zebaida, en el sexto concierto de gala del XVI Festival Internacional de Música Credomatic (FIM 2006), el viernes, en el Teatro Nacional. La idoneidad técnica y musical del joven solista quedó demostrada de inmediato mediante la lectura sopesada y lúcida que modeló de la Sonata N° 21 en do mayor, opus 53, de Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827), genio del posclasicismo austro-germano, escrita en 1804 y conocida como Sonata Waldstein: fogoso, en el allegro inicial; recogido, en el breve adagio transitorio; radiante, en el rondó concluyente. La primera mitad terminó con la interpretación poderosa y resuelta que el pianista plasmó de la Sonata N° 7 en si bemol mayor, opus 83, de Serguei Prokófiev (1891-1953), figura señera del modernismo ruso-soviético, terminada en 1942, cuando la Unión Soviética se defendía del ataque de la Alemania nazi, circunstancia que para algunos se refleja en la obra. Berkovsky proyectó con exactitud las cadencias percutivas del agitado primer movimiento; resaltó la calidez e introspección del andante, y se oyó imponentemente arrollador en el precipitato final. La segunda parte comenzó con la versión delicada y ondulante ofrecida por el solista de la Balada N° 4 en fa menor, opus 52, de Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849), eximio representante del romanticismo, pieza compuesta en el año 1842, y cerró con la interpretación reluciente de la Sonata N° 2 en si bemol menor, opus 36, de Serguei Rajmáninov (1873-1943), ilustre personalidad del posromanticismo ruso, obra que data de 1931. Fuera de programa, Michael Berkovsky respondió a las aclamaciones de la audiencia entusiasta, aunque no tan concurrida, con Fascinatin' Rhythm, de Gershwin, en arreglo de Earl Wild; siguió el Nocturno en mi menor, opus póstumo de Chopin y, por último, Der Bach (El arroyo), parte de Die schöne Müllerin (La bella molinera), ciclo de canciones de Schubert, en arreglo de Rajmáninov. Algunas observaciones extra musicales: en el momento más íntimo del adagio de la Waldstein, la audición fue perturbada por un ruido fuerte proveniente del equipo de sonido que, al parecer, no fue apagado después del anuncio de rutina previo a la función. Además, el piano se encontraba en un vergonzoso estado de suciedad, manchado con las huellas de las manos de los tramoyistas que lo llevaron al escenario. Por un lado, es obvio que el instrumento no estaba protegido con un cobertor, como corresponde; por otro, la pirámide burocrática del Teatro Nacional incluye director general, subdirector, administrador, director técnico, jefe de escena, y una plétora de asistentes, tramoyistas y conserjes, pero no hubo nadie que evitara semejante falta de respeto para el artista y el público. | ||||||||||
Berkovsky's appearance was presented by the valuable Discovery Series of free events launched four years ago by the