Category Archives: In concert

Friendly Fire – Shakespeare 400: London Symphony Orchestra / Gianandrea Noseda

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gianandrea-nosedaFriendly Fire – Simon Trpčeski, London Symphony Orchestra / Gianandrea Noseda (above)

Barbican Hall, London; Thursday 25 February 2016

Welcome to Arcana’s new ‘alternative’ reviews slot! It is an ‘ask the audience’ feature – where I (Ben Hogwood) take a friend / colleague to a classical concert and get them to review it in the bar afterwards. Our second ‘reviewer’ in the series is John Earls, a family man from Harrow & Wealdstone who works as Head of Research at Unite. He shares his thoughts on a program of music inspired by ‘Shakespeare 400’ – with works by Smetana (Richard III), Tchaikovsky (Romeo and Juliet), Richard Strauss (Macbeth) and the seemingly unconnected Piano Concerto no.2 by Liszt. The artists are pianist Simon Trpceski and the London Symphony Orchestra under newly announced guest conductor Gianandrea Noseda.

john-earls

Arcana: How did you prepare for this concert?

John: I didn’t do that much in the way of preparation, other than see what the four pieces in the concert were, and whether I was familiar with them. At the time the only one I thought I was familiar with was the Tchaikovsky, but you reminded me I had heard the Liszt before.

What was your musical upbringing?

As a young child, pretty limited. Most of the music I heard from my parents would have been Irish music, then as I went through school I was more exposed to bits of classical music, as I learned the clarinet. In my teens I got more into contemporary music, rock music, new wave – I played in my own band – and became more interested in jazz and classical music as I got older and attended more concerts and read more about those particular types of music. Jazz and classical are the forms of music I listen to most now.

Name three musical acts you love and why:

(almost without hesitation): Miles Davis was a trailblazer and an innovator who has done some very different things throughout his career. He also struck me as a great leader of bands and ensembles, because he was a great talent spotter who pulled some phenomenal musicians together, and it always struck me that anybody who played with him was better for the experience. They tended to be either better musicians or composersafter having gone through the Miles Davis experience, and also his ensembles tended to be greater than the sum of their parts.

I would also go for Christy Moore, who in many ways would be the soundtrack to my development and my life. I think he has a huge amount of integrity, and if you listen to him sing he comes across as somebody who really means it. If you see him performing live you see a gifted songwriter but also somebody who has a mission to transmit the songs he knows. He has a great deal of songs he hasn’t written but he is able to communicate and pass them on.

I should pick a band really…Wire. I saw them last year for the first time in around 30 years, at the Lexington near Kings Cross. They were influential in my formative days in the late 1970s / early 1980s. They were innovative and straddled the artistic side with the punk sensibility, but had the credibility of doing what they wanted to do. To release an album like they did last year nearly 40 years after they first started, and to think they can still do it, was a phenomenal achievement. They are still great live and the songs incredibly well crafted.

Have you been to classical music concerts before, and if so what has been your experience?

I’m not sure I fit your criteria of ‘someone who doesn’t normally attend a classical concert’. I’m actually a regular classical concert goer – all forms and types. Living in London I’ve been able to see some of the finest musicians and orchestras in the world. Many of my most treasured musical moments have been at ‘classical music’ concerts – Mitsuko Uchida playing Schubert’s late piano sonatas, Rattle and the Berlin Phil doing Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony, Steve Reich’s Music for 18 Musicians with Reich himself playing. I also think some pieces are best experienced live – Messiaen’s Turangalila, for example. Had a few disappointments too! But live music is really important to me. 

What did you think of the Smetana?

I thought it was OK – I could see why they had used it as a piece with which to start. Would I have got the Shakespeare connection? Probably not, but having known it I could see there were bits that sounded regal. Some bits reminded me of a royal hunt, with lots of trumpet. Some of it was like a fanfare but there was solo trumpet that was quite ‘angsty’ and personal. I suppose the trumpet has royal connections. Those things came into my mind while I was listening but I’m not sure, as a piece of music, I would be in a huge hurry to listen to it again.

What about the Liszt?

I hadn’t remembered that I had heard it before. I quite enjoyed it, but there were parts where the pianist seemed a bit stroppy and belligerent, reminiscent of Jerry Lee Lewis! I enjoyed it a bit less than I thought I was going to but the thing that did stick out for me was the cello (Rebecca Gilliver’s solo in the third movement – ed). The sound was absolutely beautiful.

What about the Tchaikovsky?

I was more familiar and knew what to expect. I wasn’t used to being that close to the orchestra! If you heard those four pieces of music and was told there was a Shakespeare link to be honest I probably couldn’t have noticed it, but the one that would be most likely would be that one – and you would probably think Romeo and Juliet because of the tragedy, the romance and the action. You almost feel like you’re in a Bond movie! It’s got everything in it, around 16 minutes, it packs it all in, and it’s Tchaikovsky, who I love.

Finally, what about the Richard Strauss?

I thought that was a good piece to finish on. It had a range of things. I don’t think I would have thought Shakespeare but it was more personal in that it was not necessarily a narrative story – you’re inside somebody’s head. I’ve got ‘magisterial’ written down here, and I felt there was a real tension in it. The offstage snare drum was great, I always like that use of the space, and I’ve not heard the percussion played like that before (the tam tam I think! – ed)

It was more psychological I think, and it was only in that piece that I noticed Noseda’s score was tiny, I’ve never seen one so small! I enjoyed the music, and would go back to listen to it again. I didn’t realise Strauss was 24, that’s quite a phenomenal achievement – not only to put all the instrumentation together but to get the psychological elements at that stage, you would think only an older composer would manage that.

What about the environment and setting of the concert, and how it was promoted?

The only PR I’ve seen was the Shakespeare-related things, and I couldn’t see the link with the Liszt, but I like the idea of linking things in. Sometimes it can be a bit contrived but I think if it’s used as a technique to expose you to different bits of music then that’s fine – like Romeo and Juliet – and it worked for me in the case of the Strauss but not the Smetana.

I think they got the range and order of the pieces right. I’ve been to the Barbican as a venue, and I do like the way it works with an instrument offstage, like they did with the Strauss. I’ve seen that done with vocal and choral pieces and it can work. I think the conductor was quite energetic, not necessarily in a flowing way – quite staccato would be your terminology! There seemed a good rapport between him and the orchestra, the sense they really respect him.

If you could give it a mark out of 10 what would you give?

Probably a 7, but that would be an average. The Tchaikovsky and the Strauss would be an 8 or 9, and the Smetana would drag it down a bit. But it was certainly worth going to!

Arcana’s brief thoughts on the concert:

The connections between classical music and Shakespeare are many, but the London Symphony Orchestra did really well to present a variety of nineteenth century settings. All fall into the ‘Romantic’ period, where composers were getting to grips with the idea of the orchestra being a storyteller in what was known the ‘symphonic poem’.

Smetana’s Richard III was an ideal curtain opener, though like its subject it had an uneven walk – brilliantly portrayed but still with a sense of a portrait not quite fully fledged.

Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet was different. This was the London Symphony Orchestra on white hot form, Gianandrea Noseda conducting like a man wholly affected by the tragedy. This music surged forward with passion and drama in equal measure, and the hair stood up with the volley of brass and percussion, and the intensity of the love theme on the strings.

Richard Strauss’s Macbeth was equally intense, though even more effective in exploring the minds of the two main protagonists of the story. The lower strings had a steely effectiveness, the double basses brilliantly marshalled, while the drama above unfolded in compelling fashion.

Though Liszt’s Piano Concerto no.2 had no Shakespearian connection it was a relatively sound choice, for he is a composer unable to resist the temptation of telling a story! This one had its moments of drama, albeit fleeting in comparison to the warhorses of the second half.

Wigmore Mondays – Denis Kozhukhin – Out of Doors

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Denis Kozhukhin (piano)

Wigmore Hall, London

Monday, 22 February 2016

Audio (open in a new window)

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b071774c

Available until 24 March

What’s the music?

Haydn – Piano Sonata in D major, HXVI:24 (1773) (10 minutes)

Brahms – Theme and Variations in D minor (1860) (10 minutes)

Liszt – Benediction du Dieu dans la solitude (1847) (16 minutes)

Bartók – Out of Doors (1926) (14 minutes)

Spotify

Denis Kozhukhin has recorded the Haydn sonata but not any of the other works in this repertoire. In case you are unable to hear the radio broadcast the below playlist contains legendary recordings of the Brahms (Radu Lupu), the Liszt (Claudio Arrau) and Andreas Haefliger’s account of the Bartók:

About the music

Haydn is acknowledged as the godfather of so many forms that became the norm in classical music from the late 1700s onwards. As well as the symphony and the string quartet, he left a great body of piano sonatas that are fresh, original and ground breaking. Later examples from Beethoven and Schubert would surely not have been written were it not for works such as the D major example here.

The Brahms Theme and Variations is actually an arrangement of the second movement of his String Sextet no.1 – and transcribes for piano effortlessly, so much so that the listener would think it was a piano original. This was in order for it to be played by Clara Schumann, who received the score as a forty-first birthday present in 1860.

Liszt wrote his Benediction as part of a cycle of ten pieces for piano called Harmonies poétiques et religeuses in 1847. It is a relatively long, single span of contemplation, and in it the composer writes music that could be seen as an early pointer towards the so-called ‘impressionism’ of Debussy and Ravel. So often known for writing barnstorming piano pieces, Liszt takes his foot off that particular pedal for once.

Liszt’s fellow Hungarian Béla Bartók wrote his short set of five pieces, Out of Doors, in 1926. As its name suggests it is a celebration of the Hungarian countryside, by raucous day – pipes, drums and chases – and by atmospheric night, where the sounds of amphibious creatures can be heard in some of his exquisite nocturnal picture painting.

Performance verdict

From this concert it is very clear that Denis Kozhukhin is a special talent. The well-designed hour of music moved almost seamlessly from the simplicity of Haydn to the brazen antics of the Bartók with almost no join.

Kozhukin’s Haydn was lovely, the D major sonata receiving an airy performance with plenty of rubato – which means a stylish way of letting the music breathe – so that the rhythms were not too rigid.

The Brahms was similarly magical in the quieter passages, allowing Kozhukhin to use an imposing tone when the music returned to the minor key. This was a performance flying in the face of the obvious technical difficulties presented by the composer – and the same could be said for the Liszt, reaching moments of hypnotic beauty in its outer sections.

Kozhukhin took his time here, creating and maintaining the mood of contemplation, holding the atmosphere while easily managing the fiendishly difficult writing for the right hand. In the Bartók he found a good balance between percussive power and the primitive, folksy material that the composer brings to the surface. As a result Out of Doors felt like a celebration, entertaining and energetic, but with an added chill to the night pieces.

What should I listen out for?

Haydn

1:10 – the piece starts with a flourish in the right hand, one that recalls the sonatas of Scarlatti – as BBC Radio 3 announcer Fiona Talkington points out. It is a fresh tune that twinkles with the accompaniment that Haydn chooses, with very little bass. As is customary the first section is repeated (2:14) before at 3:20 Haydn starts to develop his main idea, moving it around harmonically. This is brief – as at 4:25 we hear the main idea again.

5:47 – the slow movement, which is immediately quite sombre and preoccupied. It is in the style of an aria, as though an imaginary singer were taking the line Haydn gives to the right hand. It is a brief but poignant movement, lost in thought towards the end. Haydn emerges from the quiet mood, leading straight into…

8:54 – the last movement, a short structure bright in tone and with an amicable tune. The end is rather nicely done.

Brahms

11:44 – Brahms begins with a grand statement. The first statement of the tune is given to the right hand, while the left plays arpeggiated chords. It is a big tune – and the first of six variations starts at 13:09, still in the minor key. By 15:38 the music is worked up and full of darkly coloured passion, but then Brahms slips effortlessly into the major key and a lighter outlook (16:54), from where Kozhukhin leads to a radiant variation. At 20:04 the austere minor key returns, but Brahms still finished in the major key, settling the strife experienced earlier.

Liszt

22:35 – Benediction du Dieu dans la solitude (God’s blessing of solitude) is a radiant performance of a piece that begins with a very long melodic phrase. It is quite unusual for Liszt in having very few moments of fire and brimstone, and instead achieves a kind of ecstasy of contemplation. The key – F sharp major – is key to this, the black keys somehow much more mystical than the white on this occasion! There are two central sections – both calming influences (28:39 and 30:58) before the original material returns (32:28). We hear all three tunes before the piece closes softly.

Bartók

39:03 – With Drums and Pipes – an exuberant if heavy start, low on the piano. This is almost an early precedent of rock music with its pounding rhythms!

40:40 – Barcarolla – a slower dance that flows nicely but which sounds uneasy, as though the direction of the boat on the water is uncertain.

43:10 – Musettes – this is rustic, dance-based material, where a lot of the tunes sound as though they are packed with wrong notes (they aren’t!) It makes them strangely charming.

46:05 – The Night’s Music – a classic example of a Bartók night setting. The music closes in on itself, and in the distance some animal / insect noises can be heard, disturbing the night’s piece when they get closer or make sudden noises, such as when Kozhukhin slams the upper end of the piano. It is an atmospheric and highly descriptive piece of music, and more than a little eerie as the sounds persist, seemingly stopping any chance of sleep.

51:11 – The Chase – a bruising encounter with the hands seemingly all over the place on the keyboard. The rhythms are deliberately inconsistent as the music hurries along, with great dissonance and surprises in both parts.

Encore

54:35 – the first encore is a sonata from Domenico Scarlatti – a relatively slow one that makes much of a trill in the right hand. It was published as Kk247 and lasts four minutes…after which point (at 59:01) we hear another sonata, this time from the Spanish composer Antonio Soler – a brighter example in D major – just the two minutes.

Further listening

At the bottom of the playlist you can hear the original Brahms Theme and Variations, written as the second movement in his String Sextet no.1. You can then hear another set of variations – on a theme of Haydn – as well as trying to second guess where Liszt was heading, in the direction of Ravel’s Jeux d’eau! Finally some more Bartók – his three movement Piano Sonata, just as raucous and unhinged as Out of Doors. Listen below:

In concert – Werther Ensemble: British Piano Quartets at St John’s, Smith Square

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Werther Ensemble (Jamie Campbell (violin), Nicholas Bootiman (viola), James Barralet (cello), Simon Callaghan (piano); St John’s Smith Square, London, 21 February 2016

Bliss Piano Quartet in A minor, Op. 5 (1915)

Howells Piano Quartet in A minor, Op. 21 (1916)

Alwyn Rhapsody (1938)

Walton Piano Quartet in D minor (1919)

Written by Richard Whitehouse

The Werther Ensemble has proved itself adept across the broad spectrum of nineteenth- and twentieth-century chamber music, and this enterprising programme demonstrated the range of response by British composers to that most often overlooked of media – the piano quartet.

Admittedly it got off to a lukewarm start with the Piano Quartet by Sir Arthur Bliss. True the first movement began impressively, but its ensuing contrast of romantic ardour with a gauche folksiness the composer was soon to jettison never quite worked, then the central Intermezzo was simply too short and lightweight to hold a balance between its predecessor and the lively finale with its dutiful recall of the work’s opening theme towards the close. Understandable if Bliss should have left this piece to its fate as he headed off in a radically different direction.

A year younger, Howells completed his own Piano Quartet at much the same time, yet here there could be no doubt as to its consistency of musical idiom with those other chamber works from this composer’s early maturity. The opening movement unfolded with no mean deliberation, its main ideas emerging gradually and only rarely asserting themselves against a constantly shifting harmonic context.

For all that it conveyed a purposeful momentum as the Werther was mindful to contrast with the lingering eloquence of the central Lento – building in stages towards a soulful climax tinged with regret. After this, the finale may have surprised with its rhythmic incisiveness and often headlong progress, yet the affirmative outcome was audibly in keeping with the underlying trajectory of this ‘dark horse’ among works of its kind.

After the interval, a welcome revival for the Rhapsody as was the first of Alwyn’s two contributions to the medium. This packed a wealth of incident into its modest timespan of a little more than nine minutes. The tensile initial idea proved dominant while being flexible enough to accommodate understated material in a loosely palindromic structure that brought a satisfying completion. The Werther was more than equal to the technical challenges of a piece as reminded one some of Alwyn’s most distinctive music is to be found in his chamber output.

The programme concluded with the Piano Quartet by which the teenage Walton gave notice of his protean talent. Although revised in the 1920s and again in the 1950s, this is very much a young composer’s music – one steeped in recent scores by Ravel and Stravinsky that are put to productive use over its thematically interrelated four movements.

The Werther duly sustained its half-hour span with conviction to spare – whether in its trenchant response to the bracing scherzo, the ambivalent shadows that inform the Andante’s fitful progress, or the ingenuity by which the opening movement links hands with the finale in an impressive show of technical resource and cumulative energy – especially during the latter’s heady central passage, a sure pointer towards the composer’s musical preoccupations a decade and more hence.

An impressive conclusion, then, to a well-conceived and finely executed recital, in spite of the occasional intonational flaw. Apparently this had to be postponed from last year because of illness among the ensemble – in which case, its rescheduling was justified in every respect.

 

Wigmore Mondays – Behzod Abduraimov: Chopin Ballades and Brahms Variations

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Behzod Abduraimov (piano)

Wigmore Hall, London

Monday, 15 February 2016

Audio (open in a new window)

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b07032zw

Available until 17 March

What’s the music?

Chopin (1810-1849) – Ballades:

No.1 in G minor Op.23 (c1835) (9 minutes)

No.2 in F major Op.38 (1839) (7 minutes)

No.3 in A flat major Op.47 (1841) (7 minutes)

No.4 in F minor Op.52 (1842-43) (10 minutes)

Brahms – Variations on a theme of Paganini, Book 1 Op.35 (1862-63) (12 minutes)

Spotify

Behzod Abduraimov has not recorded this repertoire as yet, so in case you are unable to hear the radio broadcast the below playlist contains recordings of the Ballades by the legendary Artur Rubinstein – and an equally thrilling recording of the Brahms from pianist Julius Katchen:

About the music

As the name implies, the Ballade is a form that has a literary origin. Chopin seemingly opted to use this name in response to the writings of Adam Mickiewicz – and using such a name gave him freedom of expression and form. So it is that the four ballades for piano each tell their own story, sometimes deciding to apply rigorous structure but on other occasions letting their ideas run free.

More recently it has become a popular concert trend for the four to be performed together, as they span a good range of Chopin’s composing career (12 years) and because their key centres and emotional impressions are complementary. The first and fourth are the most substantial pieces and arguably the most difficult to bring off, while the second is rigorously structured and the third described as more of a ‘salon’ piece – which should not demean it in any way.

Brahms wrote two books of Paganini Variations, taking as his inspiration the composer’s very last Caprice for solo violin, which you can view below:

It was the composer’s last large scale work for solo piano, and was perhaps a surprise to those who had gotten to know him as a serious composer. Here he lets himself off the leash, writing music that seems to be for display purposes as it becomes ever more difficult – despite him referring to his writing as modest ‘finger exercises’. Brahms being Brahms, though, there is still that customary attention to detail throughout the fourteen variations.

Performance verdict

An ambitious program for a lunchtime concert, but one the Uzbek pianist Behzod Abduraimov pulled off with aplomb. He clearly knows the Chopin Ballades very well, for the melodic phrases were invested with a natural instinct that gave him a deceptive amount of room. There were some passages of play that took the breath away, such as the end of the fourth ballade, while in contrast the quieter moments, such as the very private beginning to the third ballade, were equally involving.

The first ballade flowed beautifully, a stream of consciousness that felt instinctive and gained a lot of momentum in its tempestuous central pages.

On occasion the Paganini Variations were too loud, the really fast and firm bits given out with just a bit too much force. Yet that is perhaps the best criticism, for it shows the extent to which Abduraimov was really going for his shots, as it were – nailing most of the really tricky runs and dazzling especially in the right hand of the thirteenth variation.

What should I listen out for?

Chopin

2:54 – the first Ballade begins with a call to arms that soon dims down – where we hear the main theme at 3:25. For much of the first section the pianist appears deep in thought, but soon these thoughts come to the surface, and from 5:00 onwards we hear music of great feeling, rising to a tempestuous climax and a thoroughly convincing finish.

11:45 – the second Ballade has none of the brooding expression of its predecessor, and could almost be mistaken for a Christmas piece at the start, with its blend of grace and nostalgia. Things change dramatically at 13:41 with an outburst from the right hand, a sudden whirlwind of notes that will almost certainly make you jump on headphones! The two contrasting moods alternate through to the end.

18:46 – the third Ballade starts with a beautiful theme and then turns into a graceful, almost balletic triple time dance. A second section at 20:27 is also in the mood for a dance, turning gracefully but then becoming deeper and much firmer. This starts to dominate the ballade as Chopin moves it through increasingly distant key centres, before the main theme returns joyously at 24:40.

25:47 – the fourth and final Ballade does not begin in its ‘home’ key, approaching it by way of an introduction – before arriving at 26:19 with a new theme. The final flurry to the end begins at 34:49 and is brilliantly played.

Brahms

38:16 – Paganini’s theme is heard in some distinctive voicing – and it is not long until the first variation at 38:43, with what sounds like an incredibly difficult piece of writing to play! Other notable variations are the flighty third (39:37), a much quieter and sombre fifth (40:58), and a sixth (41:48) where Brahms’ characteristic rhythms of two against three take hold. There are then some inward looking, quieter moments where the music takes time for thought.

Then at 47:58 we hear the thirteenth variation, and there are some frankly outrageous showboating with glissandi (very fast runs) in the right hand. Who said Brahms isn’t fun?! The end is pretty explosive stuff, and if you listen closely you might be able to hear Abduraimov stamping towards the finish.

Encore

51:49 – very much the calm after the storm, the encore is the pianist Alfred Cortot’s arrangement of the Sicilienne – originally composed by Vivaldi and arranged by Bach (3 minutes)

Further listening

The last Paganini caprice has sparked the imagination of a number of composers, each of whom have written variations on its melody – so at the bottom of the concert playlist you will find the Rhapsody on a theme of Paganini from Rachmaninov, along with Variations from Lutoslawski and Andrew Lloyd Webber. Which one is best?

Meanwhile you can compare Chopin’s approach to the Ballade with that of Brahms, who published his set of four in 1854. The items are on the bottom of the playlist containing the music used in the concert:

Wigmore Mondays – Escher Quartet play Schubert’s ‘Death and the Maiden’

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Escher Quartet: Adam Barnett-Hart, Aaron Boyd (violins), Pierre Lapointe (viola), Brook Speltz (cello)

Photo by Sophie Zhai

Wigmore Hall, London

Monday, 8 February 2016

Audio (open in a new window)

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b06zjbv2

Available until 10 March

What’s the music?

Mendelssohn (1809-1847): Andante and Scherzo for String Quartet, Op.81/1 & 2 (1847) (10 minutes)

Schubert (1797-1827): String Quartet in D minor D810, ‘Death and the Maiden’ (1824) (40 minutes)

Spotify

The Escher Quartet have made recordings of the music of Mendelssohn, but these are not currently available on Spotify. Instead you can hear the music played by the quartet’s unofficial mentors, the Emerson String Quartet, on the playlist below – including the off-broadcast encore of Haydn:

About the music

Schubert’s Death and the Maiden quartet is arguably the most famous in the string quartet repertoire. It is certainly one of the composer’s finest works in the form, and brings with it a steely tone and darkness that had only really been heard before in the works of Beethoven.

The reason for its nickname lies in the second movement, a set of variations on a theme from a song of the same name written by Schubert in 1817. It is the emotional heart of the work, but there is plenty elsewhere that leaves a lasting and deeply felt impression. The way the quartet leaps out of the blocks at the start is striking, as is the quick chase of the last movement.

Schubert wrote the quartet in 1824, after a serious illness – and when he realised, at the age of 27, that he was not going to recover. It carries a lot of resentment and anger, but also a deeper resolve.

Mendelssohn also wrote his Andante and Scherzo in the final year of his life. They were the start of a projected seventh string quartet, but in the event were the only two movements written. Two earlier movements were added to make a set of four that were published as his Op.81, but the four pieces are rarely heard together.

Mendelssohn was suffering at the time of composition from a series of strokes, heavily aggravated by the death of his sister Fanny. He, like Schubert, died at such a young age – 38 – but you would never know from the size and maturity of his compositional output.

Performance verdict

The Escher Quartet gave a superb account of Death and the Maiden, achieving remarkable clarity and unity of ensemble in the striking unison moments, but also reaching great emotional depths in the Theme & Variations second movement. This was the heart of their performance, but technically their fast playing in the third movement Scherzo, with its driving syncopations, and the fourth movement, with its quick fire string writing, were hugely impressive.

Despite the prevailing darkness this was a performance that offered hope in the lighter moments that come along – the sunny disposition of the third movement Trio and the brief major key excursions of the finale being two examples. The end was utterly convincing.

The Mendelssohn made an ideal contrast, the lightness of the Andante enhanced by the velvety tone of Pierre Lapointe’s viola in the first variation on the theme. In the Scherzo the quartet’s unity was again in evidence, but so was the furtive nature of much of Mendelssohn’s arguments, fading to the end with unsettling speed.

As an encore – unfortunately not heard on the radio broadcast – we heard the slow movement from Haydn’s String Quartet in F minor Op.20/5. First violinist Adam Barnett-Hart dedicated this to Haydn himself, ‘the father of the string quartet’ – without whom the form would not even exist! It was an appropriate and affectionate finish to a very fine recital.

What should I listen out for?

Mendelssohn

1:30 – an airy Andante theme, light of touch. The variations on it begin at 2:18 where the viola takes the lead, after which there is a sweet violin solo. Despite the sunny air there is a note of nervousness too, realised at 4:39 when the music switches to the minor key. The theme returns at 6:03 – and all is now well as the music finishes quietly.

7:32 – the Scherzo is also light of touch, though much quicker – and here the nervousness is right to the fore. There are moments of subtle humour, and the music is in the form of a quick dance, but it is a shadowy outline too. There is a hint of a more fluid waltz at 10:55, but the music becomes detached again, petering out at the end.

Schubert

13:39 – the start of this quartet is one of the most instantly recognisable tunes in all string quartet writing, hurled out as a unison by all four instruments. The mood is immediately fraught, and Schubert makes frequent references to two themes – the one punched out at the beginning and a second, quicker one at 14:11. These compete for space throughout the first movement.

At 16:55 the music sweetens for the first time, but by 20:18 the main theme returns. The movement ends in brooding fashion.

25:58 – this is the centrepiece of the quartet, a movement of theme and variations. The theme, a solemn and very sad tune heard from the outset, seems almost inconsolable, but as Schubert begins to work his magic it becomes more flexible in musical content and mood. The violin is sweeter, while from 30:33 the cello takes over expressively. From 32:31 the quartet are united in driving forward. The music spends some time briefly in the sunny major key, but from 36:47 is ploughed back into a mood of sombre uncertainty, and the emotional climax of the movement from 37:30.

The final minutes are plaintive but ultimately positive, falling into silence at 39:44.

40:27 – the third movement is a Scherzo – and finds us resolutely back in the quartet’s ‘home’ key of D minor. The music drives forward with grim determination, but the clouds part at 42:05 for the ‘trio’ section, where the textures are lighter and the tune much sweeter. The respite is all too brief, though, and we head back to the scherzo music at 43:31.

44:35 – the last movement is a quick dash, the four instruments chasing as a pack with a distinctive tune that seems destined never to stop. Because this is a ‘rondo’ it is written in a certain form that means the main tune recurs several times, interspersed by a grand ‘B’ section (46:16) and a ‘C’ (47:02)

Encore (not heard on the broadcast)

The slow movement from Haydn‘s String Quartet in F minor Op.20/5 – one of the composer’s ‘Sun’ quartets.

Further listening

You can watch the Escher Quartet in the slightly earlier Quartet movement (Quartettsatz) by Schubert in the clip below:

There are some very fine late works from Mendelssohn to explore, darker though they have become because of the death of the composer’s sister. The F minor string quartet, published as Op.80, is especially good, as is the late String Quintet no.2 in B flat major, Op.87. Both can be found on the Spotify playlist below: