MUSIC REVIEW : Perlman at the Pavilion

Itzhak Perlman gave his first Los Angeles recital, at Beverly Hills High, on Halloween Night, 1966. He was 21 years old and looked to many observers like the most promising young practitioner in a field--violin playing--at that moment apparently in decline.

Since then, as Perlman’s musical promise has been fulfilled and the field has enjoyed a renaissance, the Israeli musician’s local recital appearances have become near-annual affairs, attended by hordes in Hollywood Bowl--more than 11,000 listeners populated each of his recitals there in 1985 and 1987, for instance--or at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion. To that hall, Perlman returned, with one of his longtime pianistic partners, Janet Goodman Guggenheim, Sunday night.

As at that first recital in Beverly Hills, so long ago, the now 46-year-old violinist still combines an effortless musicality with solid virtuosity in performances of high polish.

He makes beautiful sounds, observes stylistic niceties and seems to enjoy his time in front of an audience. His art may not specialize in risk-taking, frenzied emotionalism or the deepest sort of musical probing; however, it is relaxed rather than lazy, benign rather than disinterested.

Before a reportedly sold-out Pavilion, Perlman/Guggenheim offered Schubert’s Sonatina No. 1, Beethoven’s “Kreutzer” Sonata, the Sonata by Ravel and six short pieces as a closing group.

A felicitous understatement marked Schubert’s cherishable sonatina, particularly from pianist Guggenheim, who seemed to be operating one notch lower on the dynamic scale than one would prefer. From where she was sitting, her energy level may have felt appropriate; in this 3,200-seat hall, however, more was needed.

More arrived with the “Kreutzer” and Ravel sonatas, the readings of which seemed not only stylish but truly convinced.

Perlman and his associate took the measure of these familiar pieces, investing in them the most telling colors, details and feelings, and invariably without self-consciousness.

For some listeners--this one, for instance--Perlman’s closing group of morceaux became again the most enjoyable part of his recital, a reminder that, even among the elite, only a handful of musical artists are given the ability to play miniatures.

This time, those miniatures were:

* A “Song Without Words,” called “Sweet Remembrance,” by Mendelssohn, as transcribed by Heifetz.

* An Allegro by Fiocco.

* The famous Meditation from “Thais,” by Massenet.

* Heifetz’s arrangement of Gershwin’s “It Ain’t Necessarily So.”

* William Bolcom’s “Graceful Ghost” Rag.

* The “Jota Navarra” by Pablo de Sarasate.