The piano department started the semester on an inspirational note with last Tuesday night’s master-class, featuring pianist and University of Tel Aviv professor Emanuel Krasovsky. Krasovsky had donned a striped red-and-blue tie for the occasion, his slight belly well-concealed by a sharp navy suit, complete with gilded buttons glinting under the harsh stage lights of Warner. Such stiff formality was softened by his salt-and-pepper beard, but continued to snag the audience’s eye with a shiny ring, a slick watch, and a twinkle in his crinkled eyes.

A definite dog lover, Krasovsky is a caring father who jokingly talked about his two children, both now in their twenties, who sometimes “immediately form a coalition, so we have a united front.” He enjoys watching all kinds of movies, not just ones that are deeply psychological, but also others that are light and entertaining, evident in his imitation of Leonardo DiCaprio’s character in The Aviator.

He is also a passionate musician with a vigorous and energetic teaching style, and gave a wonderful master class for Conservatory students. The three pianists selected to perform, senior Emily Chiang, and sophomores Weiwen Ma and Ying Ying Su, each gave astounding performances. Although Krasovsky sometimes employed trite images to evoke the imagination, such as bells and water, he successfully used varied and compelling analogies to describe the music.

Immersed in the class, he stomped his left foot powerfully enough to vibrate the stage, gesturing so much that his hair flopped around, even broadly singing along. Such theatrical involvement eventually led to a priceless demonstration of what Chiang’s rendition of Beethoven’s Op. 110 Sonata ought to sound like, which in Krasovsky’s terms was a “country dance” given “after having beer.”

Spectators loved this intensity, including Michael Bukhman, who noted that “everyone in the audience felt [his] energy.” Krasovsky managed to insert a bit of his wry humor every few minutes, drawing scattered laughs from the audience. His focus never wavered and he was completely unconcerned with time.

For Krasovsky, music has become “a way of life” over the years. He believes it “reaches places that cannot be scrutinized by reason.” He recalls his years as a student at the Juilliard School with warm nostalgia; he discovered the experience to be very different from the expected competitive and cutthroat environment that knotted other students’ nerves.

At Juilliard, Krasovsky was fortunate enough to stumble upon lasting relationships, where everyone was “friendly and supportive of one another.”

“Friends,” he continued with a thoughtful nod, “are very important.” Despite the difficulties of his first few months, he realized that “the situation [was] not altogether hopeless,” as time passed.

Chiang described Krasovsky as “amazing” and “animated,” characteristics she found to be inspirational in a teacher. As a professor of piano and chamber music in Israel, Krasovsky asserted that his approach would be modified depending on the student, his/her personality, and what their strengths and weaknesses were.

From diverse experiences, Krasovsky has created what he calls a “database,” where millions of bits are stored. It is this compilation from which he extracts his inspiration while teaching. In the span of merely one class, Krasovsky’s references ranged from Impressionist paintings to The Truman Show to imps, kites, mythological Greek figures and The Da Vinci Code.

A thoroughly enticing figure, Krasovsky is a self-proclaimed junk-food junkie, including “burgers, grilled stuff.” And while greasy and sugary treats, such as chocolate, may satisfy his undiscriminating palette, he sheepishly admitted that such foods are not quite as beneficial to the standard healthy lifestyle as he would prefer.

For aspiring musicians, he stressed the importance of an “unexplainable need and passion for it.” As a fan of Schubert and Brahms, he finds their music to contain a great deal of “sincerity and some sort of warmth,” allowing him to identify with these musicians most. Clearly, Krasovsky has discovered not only jubilance, but also solace, sorrow, agility and freedom in music.