RECITAL AT LEO BAECK TEMPLE : KAHANE NOTES RUBINSTEIN CENTENARY

Noting the 100th anniversary of the late Artur Rubinstein, and at the same time raising funds for the Rubin Academy of Music and Dance in Jerusalem, Jeffrey Kahane appeared in recital at Leo Baeck Temple in Westwood, Wednesday night.

The young American pianist, winner of the most recent Rubinstein International Competition (in 1983), did not flinch at the musical implications of the occasion. He played a program of weight and substance, in his own way and to his own tastes. And he played with the skill and individuality of one born to excel.

Yet it was not a great night--not for the virtuoso performer and not for Bach, Ravel and Brahms, whose scores Kahane approached nobly. A room of deadening acoustical profile, a piano of apparently limited resources and a certain diffidence on the part of the pianist himself seemed to prevent any possible soaring of the spirit. This became an admirable but earthbound performance.

In the main sanctuary of the Temple, aurally dampened by sound-absorbing fabrics and materials, little brilliance and few colors could emerge from the Steinway Kahane played upon. How much variety of tone that particular piano had to give, in any case, is questionable.

Kahane’s actual probing of the depths of Bach’s G-major Partita, Ravel’s “Tombeau de Couperin” and Brahms’ Variations and Fugue on a Theme of Handel, remained on a level less than inspired. Of clean and articulate expression, musical concept and technical accomplishment, these works received a full measure from the compact but versatile pianist. Of ugly tone, messy passagework and unconsidered architectonics, there was none. Yet, no wings were spread . . .

In an evening containing a number of special moments--the Minuet of the partita, the Forlane in Ravel’s suite and the entire opening portion of Brahms’ bracing set of variations--the most touching came at the end. Kahane offered a poignant reminder of the repertory embraced by the late Rubinstein: an exquisite performance of Chopin’s Mazurka in F minor, Opus 63, No. 2. Nothing could have followed it, and nothing did.