MUSIC REVIEW : PIANIST ANTON KUERTI IN AMBASSADOR RECITAL

If outward signs mean anything, then it was possible to tell at a glance that Anton Kuerti might have his own view of the universe, and music as well.

The Viennese-born pianist, who made a rare recital appearance Thursday at Ambassador Auditorium, put aside the sartorial protocol that dictates black tails or at least a black suit. Instead, he wore blue velvet and what appeared to be a Western shirt with no tie.

But there was no mistaking his seriousness of purpose. In a program that only a specialist or a deeply involved musician would devise, he went straight to the Romantic heart of the matter. Here was no typical showcase of various styles and periods--the better to show off a pianist’s extensive gifts and versatility.

Rather, Kuerti honed in on middle-period Beethoven (the F-sharp Sonata, Opus 78); the two “Grand” Sonatas of Schumann (F-sharp minor) and Schubert (“Wanderer”), and Brahms’ Eight Pieces (capriccios and intermezzos), Opus 76.

The way he flung himself into the music--physically and spiritually--persuaded a listener that little else mattered for those two hours. Nothing about his manner, however, suggested exhibitionism.

If Kuerti’s whole body shuddered at the keyboard while delivering some demonic passage, one knew with certainty that he was not helping things along for the sake of visual image. In keeping with this, he did not seem to care that his technique was a cut less than impeccable. A dropped note here or there hardly fazed him.

What the pianist clearly sets as a goal for himself is emotional penetration of the music. In this he turned out to be a remarkable purveyor of mood--mood born of kinetic force and inner drive.

In the Beethoven work, for instance, each statement loomed as its own self-originating, revelatory idea--be it the sweetness of spirit set out with plush legato or the arguments that came unprettified by neat transitions.

Here and in the other sonatas Kuerti’s responses were impelled rather than ordained. And that meant being swept along in the exquisite poetry and wild abandon he found in Schumann; the passionate grandeur of Brahms, and the powerhouse momentousness, as contrasted with a somber solitude, of Schubert.