At 26, Levinson Shows He’s a Versatile Force at the Keyboard

Both extravagantly gifted and extraordinarily accomplished, Max Levinson at 26 is an American pianist on a threshold. From the evidence of his recital, in the Colburn Alumni Series in Herbert Zipper Hall on Sunday afternoon, Levinson can compete on the highest level of international keyboard trials. He has fingers, power, brains and intuition.

On Sunday, he showed the breadth of his musical perspective and his mastery of differing styles. The second half of the program, combining--with no break--Schoenberg’s Six Little Pieces, Opus 19, and the Liszt Sonata, displayed complementary attributes of miniaturism and epic size, as well as Liszt’s incontrovertible 20th century leanings.

Levinson could get a medal for speed and accuracy in octave and quick-note passages in the Sonata; in time, he will slow down so that the listener can follow all the separate trains of thought in this Romantic monument.

In fact, the only lesson he has yet to learn in this work is that dramatic timing in the slow-moving portions cannot replace more sober articulation of the fast notes. Still, Claudio Arrau was a veteran artist--well over 60, I believe--when he wrote at length about the Liszt Sonata; we should be able to overlook the impetuosity of this novelty-seeking 26-year-old.

The rest of the event offered carefree virtuosity, musical probing and Levinson’s breathtaking intelligence. Bartok’s Dance Suite uncovered all the colors and kinetic irresistibility of its parts; the Schoenberg pieces were handsomely sculptured to a hemidemisemiquaver.

Best, Brahms’ Variations on an Original Theme, Opus 21, nearly overflowed with feeling, displayed the composer with heart on sleeve and quietly drenched the listener in pianistic beauty.