Steven Kovacevich at 75 – Berg and Schubert

Steven Kovacevich celebrates his upcoming 75th birthday with sonatas by Berg and Schubert at the Wigmore Hall

stephen-kovacevich

Steven Kovacevich (piano) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 13 July 2015

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b061fqzz

on the iPlayer until 12 August

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, here is a Spotify playlist of the music in this concert. Steven Kovacevich has recorded the Schubert but it does not appear to be available on Spotify, so is included here in a leading recording by Maurizio Pollini. The Berg, which he has not recorded, is performed by Mitsuko Uchida:

What’s the music?

Berg: Piano Sonata, Op.1 (1908) (10 minutes)

Schubert: Piano Sonata in A major, published as D959 (1828) (37 minutes)

What about the music?

Steven Kovacevich describes the Berg Piano Sonata as music ‘drawn toward the distant future but still tied to the immediate past’. When he finished the first movement of what he thought would be a larger work in 1908, his teacher and mentor Schoenberg encouraged him that if he had said all he needed to say musically, there was no need to carry on. It is a landmark piece as music begins to break with conventional tonality.

While the 22-year old Berg was starting out, the 30-year old Schubert was signing off. Aware that he had not long to live, the gravely ill composer completed a trio of three massive piano sonatas, some of the biggest works ever written for the instrument and still to this day some of the most remarkable music you can hear on the piano. The second of the three in A major is a remarkable piece, contrasting passages of serenity and acceptance with sudden outbursts of temper – as in the second movement, initially slow but unable to contain itself fully. These are pieces that keep on giving in their remarkable construction and memorable melodies.

Performance verdict

The insights Steven Kovacevich has given into piano music over the last 50 years cannot be underestimated, and the sheer weight of experience he brings with him is the result of a lifetime spent performing at the very highest level.

It is this experience that shines through, especially in a reading of the Schubert sonata that is not without its problems. I would have to digress for a moment and ask if there are many 75-year olds who could play such a piece without a score, and think there are very few. Small wonder, then, that Kovacevich has what seems to be a memory lapse in the final movement, and there are a number of minor slips elsewhere. These are still very much worth persevering with because his portrayal of the unfolding drama in the Schubert is special indeed – and in the second movement in any case it is as though Schubert writes in a lot of ‘wrong’ notes.

What should I listen out for?

Berg

2:00 – one of the most intriguing beginnings to a composer’s published output is surely the quizzical opening notes of the Berg sonata, which end up in its supposed ‘home key’ of B minor, but only by asking far more questions than they answer. There is an immediate impression of a new world forming, and the harmonic outlook is constantly changing in music of great density.

The opening theme, however – the first three notes, at least – is distinctive enough to be felt in the development it receives afterwards. The music builds to a weighty climax at 7:51, then scales the heights at 10:42. Berg writes in a single paragraph, the music subsiding to the quiet, thoughtful finish.

Schubert

14:30 – the opening of the sonata is thoroughly positive, a call to arms – though Stephen Kovacevich is slightly understated in this performance. There is a serenity and intimacy that sets the tone for much of the piece.

15:57 – Schubert’s second theme, a lovely moment of introspection but also restfulness. Barely a minute later however there is a lot more audible strife, and things become fraught – until the return of this second theme at 17:41. A crunching chord at 18:07 prepares us for…

18:15 – Kovacevich repeats the movement so far (18:11) as instructed by Schubert. This helps balance the structure of the whole first movement.

23:53 – a return to the material that dominated the opening exchanges – and then, after a protracted and angst-ridden piece, the second theme and a peaceful close at 28:40.

28:54 – the slow movement begins. As with Beethoven, time seems to stand still in Schubert’s late sonatas, and his thoughts are almost of another world. The music here is very subdued but not by any means hopeless.

31:01 – the right hand seems to develop a mind of its own, becoming faster and faster. In response the music moves to distant and rather twisted harmonies – as Kovacevich notes, sounding a prophetic note towards the music of Liszt here. Feelings of anger and frustration come to the boil. The music collapses in something of a heap, exhausted at the end.

35:07 – the Scherzo, a piece of music that sounds like a feather being blown around by the wind. The detached delivery from Kovacevich’s right hand is subtly mischievous.

37:14 – the contrasting trio section begins, but is a short diversion from the main theme itself, which returns again in humour at 38:24.

39:28 – Kovacevich runs straight into the fluid finale but stops himself at 41:12. Then he picks up again at 41:26. To listen to this movement in full it is recommended to forward to…

51:16 – where after applause Kovacevich very graciously gives a re-run of the finale. Listening carefully to the full theme, there is a similarity between this and Beethoven’s ‘Ode to Joy’ theme from the Choral Symphony. It is in the main beautifully played, with a magical moment at 57:01 when we hear the theme in F sharp major, a fair way from home! At 1:01:12, however, Schubert arrives at his destination.

Further listening

A natural port of call from the Berg Piano Sonata is Schoenberg’s early piano works, which also dice with removing tonality altogether. These are the quite substantial Three Piano Pieces of 1909 and the tiny sketches that make up the Six Little Piano Pieces. Then to complement the Schubert we have the small but perfectly formed late Allegretto in C minor and three more beefy piano pieces from the last year of the composer’s life, written in a similar vein to the famous Impromptus. Here they are, all played by Maurizio Pollini and tagged on to the end of the concert playlist:

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Jean-Guihen Queyras – Bach and Britten at the Wigmore Hall

Jean-Guihen Queyras plays works for solo cello by J.S. Bach and Benjamin Britten at the Wigmore Hall

jean-guihen-queyras

Jean-Guihen Queyras (cello) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 6 July 2015

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b060zmjg

on the iPlayer until 5 August

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, here is a Spotify playlist of the music in this concert, in recordings made by Queyras for Harmonia Mundi:

What’s the music?

Britten: Solo Cello Suite no.1 (1964) (20 minutes)

J.S. Bach: Solo Cello Suite no.6 (c1724) (30 minutes)

What about the music?

The idea of a cello playing on its own was only fully cultivated in the twentieth century – when Pablo Casals recorded the six Bach suites in the 1930s and they became part of the repertoire once again. Until then, unbelievably, they had lain dormant – but now they stand as arguably the most-played body of works for cello in existence. They are wonderfully flexible pieces, because the easiest parts of the suites can be played by budding amateurs. Generally, the higher the number of the suite, the more technically demanding they are.

Hence the Sixth and last suite in the set is extremely virtuosic. It is thought to have been written for a five-string instrument known as the violoncello piccolo, like the one in the picture below:

violoncello-piccolo

The Sixth is the longest of the suites, and often features multiple stopping – i.e. more than one note played at once. Because the fifth string of the violoncello piccolo would have been a higher one (an ‘E’ above the highest cello string of ‘A’) the suite is unusual for its treble-rich sound.

Britten stole into the world of the solo cello by way of his dear friend Mstislav Rostropovich, who threw down the gauntlet to him to write a number of compositions for the instrument. In taking on writing for the solo cello he was one of the first since Bach to take it on in a solo capacity – Zoltán Kodály and Max Reger being the others.

Britten made an explicit homage to Bach’s works in the use of different dance forms, and like the elder composer he often wrote out multiple stopping, using the confines of the instrument to somehow write independent parts for it. These can be heard especially as the second movement Fuga takes shape.

Britten was to write another two suites for solo cello, for it was clearly an instrument that pricked his compositional interest.

Performance verdict

If ever proof were needed that Bach can make you happy, Jean-Guihen Queyras supplied it handsomely in this wonderful hour of music. Each of the six movements making up the Sixth Cello Suite danced persuasively, although in the slower Allemande and Sarabande dances Queyras achieved a wonderful, all-encompassing peace. Technically he was superb – this is far from easy music to play in public – with rock solid intonation and an easy way that endeared him to his audience.

The Britten made a good contrast, for this is a very serious piece, with inner strife that Queyras built perceptibly as the final flurry of notes grew closer. Here he was careful to bring out Britten’s part writing for the instrument, so that on occasion it felt as though there were many more instruments than just one in the room. The cello’s probing tone still brought each melody to the front, while the technical effects Britten uses to enhance the impact of the piece were brilliantly executed.

What should I listen out for?

Britten

1:41 – the Canto primo, where the cello proclaims the theme majestically. Immediately you can hear Britten’s use of multiple stopping, which is where the cello plays chords from several strings at once. This moves into…

3:39 – the Fuga begins. It seems very unlikely that a fugue could work on a cello but it somehow does – when at 3:52 the next entry of the tune comes in, meaning several parts can exist simultaneously. The ear is led this way and that, as though two or even three cellos are playing. From hear the mood darkens to…

7:42 – the Lamento, which starts with a broad intonation, like a solo singer. Britten wrote so many of his instrumental pieces as though they are vocal.

10:07 – the Canto Secondo. In response to the Lamento the cello gives a subdued account of the Canto theme, appearing lost in thought.

11:07 – Serenata. Marked Allegretto pizzicato (quite fast but with the strings plucked) this is a more playful homage to the second movement of Debussy’s Cello Sonata, which Britten and Rostropovich recorded together in 1961.

13:33 – a movement marked as Marcia – where Britten achieves ghostly sounds firstly through the use of harmonics, where the left hand rests very lightly on the string, and then through the wood of the bow banging on the string (14:14). The mood is now agitated.

16:40 – from the murky depths of the cello we hear the solemn Canto terzo, another variant of the tune from the start. The music becomes gradually more forceful, moving into…

18:29 – the Bordone begins – an unusually titled movement that features a drone on the note ‘D’ – mostly from the open string. Around it a cluster of notes can be heard, while the left hand plucks the string absently. Again it sounds like there are two or three instruments playing, such is the density of Britten’s music.

21:39 – the final section, marked Moto perpetuo – and now the cello sounds like a group of excited insects, the melody fluttering around restlessly. At 23:02 the main tune returns but sounds breathless in this company, as it does until the end – which is deliberately distorted and angry.

J.S. Bach

27:08 – the expansive Prelude, rooted in D major by frequent sounding of the open ‘D’ string, before gradually opening out. Bach’s main tune returns at a lower pitch (‘G’) at 29:33 – but then the music climbs to a peak at 30:28.

32:16 – the slow Allemande dance begins. This is the longest single movement in all of Bach’s music for solo cello, and it resembles a religious contemplation. Time really does seem to stand still as the cello’s music unwinds with a great inevitability. When he repeats the first section (from 33:57) Queyras plays much quieter.

40:34 – the triple-time Courante dance, a lively affair that finds the cello jumping around its range.

44:31 – the slow, serene Sarabande – which inhabits a similar world to the earlier Allemande. It requires clarity on the part of the cellist, who is playing high chords for much of the sequence, but when played well it is very beautiful, as here.

49:46 – a lightness of touch runs through the two Gavottes. The first of these uses a lot of multiple stopping, while the second (beginning at 51:25) is more purposeful and works its way into a bit of a frenzy over a drone. The first Gavotte is repeated at 52:34.

53:25 – the last of the dances, a Gigue – again in triple time. This has a rustic feel and keeps the wide open sound Bach has used throughout the suite, which reaches a thoroughly uplifting finish at 57:33.

Further listening

If the sound of the cello on its own appeals, the rest of the Bach and Britten suites are wholeheartedly recommended. In the Britten, one of many fine recordings comes from Norwegian cellist Truls Mørk, made for Virgin Classics. It can be heard on Spotify here:

In the Bach works interpretations are many and varied, so it is advisable to try a number of different sources. One of the earlier classic recordings that is always rewarding comes from the French cellist Pierre Fournier, made for Deutsche Grammophon’s side label Archiv Produktion in 1960. Here it is on Spotify:

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Ilya Gringolts and Ashley Wass – Debussy and Korngold at the Wigmore Hall

A beginning and an end – Debussy and Korngold Violin Sonatas at the Wigmore Hall

ilya-gringolts-ashley-wass

Ilya Gringolts (violin), Ashley Wass (piano) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 29 June 2015

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b060brzw

on the iPlayer until 28 July

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, here is a Spotify playlist of the music in this concert (which Gringolts and Wass have not yet recorded):

What’s the music?

Debussy: Violin Sonata (1917) (12 minutes)

Korngold: Violin Sonata (1912) (42 minutes)

What about the music?

Perhaps surprisingly, the violin sonata was one of the main forms in use for chamber music in the first few decades of the twentieth century. Perhaps aware that composers such as Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms and Schumann had mastered the form impressively, others took up the challenge as the new century began its musical breakaway. Ravel, Vaughan Williams, Fauré and Walton – these and more were authors of one or more sonata for violin and piano. Meanwhile an elderly Debussy and child prodigy Korngold offered their own take on the form within four years of each other.

The composers could not have been more different in their circumstances or approach. Debussy was fading fast due to cancer, and the Violin Sonata – a compact yet concentrated piece – was his final published work, meaning we would not get to see the last three sonatas of his projected six-part series. Those that remained – the Sonata for flute, viola and harp, the Cello Sonata and the Violin Sonata – are rightly held in high regard.

Korngold, meanwhile, was just into his teens, somehow with an orchestral work under his belt at the outrageously young age of twelve. This sonata, only three years later, was written just after he had been learning with Zemlinsky, who taught Berg and Schoenberg. It was completed for no less a pair than violinist Carl Flesch and pianist Artur Schnabel. It is an imposing work, clocking in at over forty minutes, and is full of big, romantic gestures and rich, chromatic harmony. It also contains melodic pointers towards the much shorter Violin Concerto he was to complete in 1945.

Performance verdict

A fascinating double act, this – chalk and cheese, but the two works complementing each other perfectly as they represent two centres of musical development in Europe at the start of the century.

Debussy, representing Paris, is by far the more concentrated, and both performers are careful not to be too outrageous with the sudden loud bits, nor too restrained in the quiet moments. Technically very sound, Gringolts has a consistently appealing tone, and the shading from Ashley Wass’s colourful piano part brings out the detail.

The Korngold could not be more different – more than three times the length, and focussing in on Vienna with its rich musical language, its big gestures and its long, florid tunes. With this we hear something of what composers like Zemlinsky (his teacher) and Schoenberg (in his early works) were up to.

Both performers give this their all, and the balance between singing violin and quasi-orchestral piano is impeccably observed, particularly in the heavy set second movement. Gringolts really sings in the more lyrical passages – notably the trio of the second movement – and the whole performance stands as a most impressive achievement, with its most concentrated moment right at the end.

What should I listen out for?

Debussy

1:42 – the first of three short movements in this sonata, notable for its brief but intense ideas, and a tendency to go from private thoughts to sudden outbursts. The use of chromatic harmony makes the music a bit wary at times, before it signs off quickly and emphatically.

6:01 – Gringolts and Wass waste no time in moving straight into the second movement, which is once again elusive. Several ideas sound instinctive, almost improvised, and perhaps indicate the composer’s restless move. Debussy makes a very distinctive sound when the two instruments play the same tune at 7:56. The performers lead straight into…

10:13 – the final movement, which moves swiftly into a memory of the main tune from the first. Again the violin and piano spar with each other, sometimes playfully, and sometimes with brief aggression that Debussy lets loose. The end, when it comes, is high-spirited.

Korngold

16:02 – this massive work begins quite innocuously, with a movement marked ‘ben moderato, ma con passione’ (a moderate tempo, with passion). Then it really gets going, as though the young composer is straining at the leash. The piano part is expansive and wide ranging, as though Korngold has an orchestral sound in his head.

All the opening thoughts head for a massive climax point at 21:43, after which point the music subsides a bit, though the rich, lyrical melodies continue to pour from the violin.

26:39 – the second movement, a scherzo, reveals two very different musical strands. The first is jumpy, with an angular line, both players are performing gymnastics as they leap up high and crouch down low. Then at 27:12 there is a sly melody that slips down on the violin, with a languid piano line for company. This is at odds with most of the movement though, as the high voltage musical exchanges continue – with the sly melody now heard at full volume (around 29:10).

Then at 31:12 the contrasting ‘trio’ begins, with a beautiful and graceful melody from the violin and flowing piano. This reverie is broken at 33:56 by the return of the jumpy opening material, and around 35:30 we hear some pretty savage chords from the piano, leading to the end at 37:49

38:14 – the slow movement, and a time for a little respite. Korngold once again writes a tune with some unusual contours to it, but one that suits the singing tone of the violin. From 40:55 the violin uses a mute briefly, the sound constricted and quite ghostly, but by the time we reach 43:00 there are forceful and passionate thoughts once again – leading to the soaring violin of 45:58. After that it effectively collapses in a heap!

46:56 – quite an elusive tune from the violin to begin the finale, wandering amiably. Gradually the music picks up momentum and Korngold introduces more dialogue between the instruments, culminating at 51:09 when a fugue starts in the piano left hand, picked up by the violin at 51:14. Again the lines become more angular – but then at 52:20 calm prevails, and a beautiful coda begins. Both violin and piano are serene, the passion of the preceding forty minutes or so summed up in the soft but heartfelt closing pages, finishing at 55:06.

Further listening

If you want further music for violin and piano, a nice calling point from the Debussy is the Violin Sonata no.1 by fellow French composer Fauré:

If however it’s more Korngold that you want the album below offers you a way in to The Sea Hawk, one of his finest film scores – while the one below that will introduce you to the substantial Symphony in F sharp, an increasingly popular orchestral work.

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The Gould Trio play Schubert at the Wigmore Hall

The Gould Piano Trio play Schubert at the Wigmore Hall

gould-piano-trio

The Gould Piano Trio (Lucy Gould (violin), Alice Neary (cello), Benjamin Frith (piano) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 15 June 2015

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b05y61y9

on the iPlayer until 15 July

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, I have put together a Spotify playlist of most of the music in this concert, including recordings the artists have made where possible. The playlist can be found here:

Meanwhile clips of the Gould Piano Trio playing the music of York Bowen on a recent release for Chandos can be found here

What’s the music?

York Bowen: Rhapsody Trio (1926) (13 minutes)

Schubert: Piano Trio no.1 (1827) (40 minutes)

What about the music?

A nicely balanced hour of chamber music, with one classic of the piano trio repertoire complemented by a very little-known work.

That said, the music of York Bowen has received a lot of exposure of late – too much, some would say! At its best though Bowen’s writing shows that his high regard from composers such as Camille Saint-Saëns was not misplaced. It is chamber music that seems to be the most consistent part of his output. This Rhapsody Trio – written in a single movement format popular with English composers in the early decades of the twentieth century – was premiered at the Savoy Hotel early in 1926 at the annual dinner of the Federation of British Music Industries.

Schubert’s two big works for piano trio are justly celebrated, being two of the best and most substantial pieces for the form. The first was written a year before the composer’s death, for the same trio that gave the first performance of Beethoven’s Archduke piano trio. Incidentally that work is set in the same key, B flat major, leading to the drawing of similarities between the two. The works are similar length, but Schubert imposes his own distinctive style here, writing music that seems on the face of it to be very optimistic – but which can on closer inspection have a few worrisome moments. There is no shortage of tunes, though, and in the slow movement especially Schubert brings his song-writing prowess to bear in some beautifully written duet work for violin and cello above the piano.

Performance verdict

Watching this performance from The Gould Trio it was immediately clear just how much enjoyment they took from the music. The Schubert was full of sleights of humour but was also very detailed, and pianist Benjamin Frith demonstrated an uncanny instinct for knowing when to hold back slightly in a phrase, or when to push on.

The first movement emphasised how gracefully Schubert writes for strings, even in the midst of a lot of bluster, while the song-based second movement lived up to its billing. The ‘Scherzo’ was witty and took time over the longer notes of his contrasting ‘trio’ section, while as the curious last movement wended its way through all sorts of different keys the trio always had a firm hand on the tiller.

Meanwhile the Bowen was given the conviction and passion his music needs, emerging as a really fine piece of music. The end in particular was extremely well done, thoughtful but holding the audience in the palm of its hand.

What should I listen out for?

Bowen

2:23 – the music begins as though emerging from a dream into the morning light. Held notes from the strings and some lazy thoughts from the piano are initially quite unfocused, but gradually the trio find their footing and a bold, louder passage ensues. At 4:34 a fetching melody can be heard on violin and cello in unison.

The music gradually picks up speed, the instruments now a lot more independent and the piano part more demanding. Although the comparisons are often between Bowen and Rachmaninov, I find the appealing unison passage from 9:30 to be like Fauré.

After another passionate section the music seems to be spent, but Bowen brings out a really atmospheric and rather affecting ending from around 14:00 onwards, all three instruments seemingly lost in thought.

Schubert

17:55 – Few chamber works begin with this much positivity! Here the Gould Piano Trio are at pains to stress this music can also be graceful – a lot of trios give the opening of the first movement too much oomph. Here though the tune shines through, and is nicely articulated by pianist Benjamin Frith at 18:49.

19:49 – Schubert’s light and songful second main tune appears on the cello. The trio repeat the first section of this movement at 21:49.

25:35 – Schubert now takes the music further from home, moving through a number of different keys as the main tune gets distorted and more worked up. Eventually this leads back to ‘home’, and the main tune in its original state, at 29:01, from the piano with soft accompaniment. Then at around 31:40 the music pulls back, leading through to an emphatic finish at 32:46.

33:12 – the second movement – marked Andante (at a walking pace) – begins with a cello solo and soft piano accompaniment. The cello is soon joined by the violin with the same melody. The atmosphere is relaxed and nocturnal. However there are shadows that occasionally fall over the music. A good example is at 36:11, where a minor chord introduces a much colder edge. Everything is suddenly less certain, and Schubert alternates between these moods – mostly touching on the positive, and especially so as the movement subsides to a gentle close (from 42:20)

42:55 – the third movement begins. This is a ‘Scherzo’ (normally a jokey kind of movement) and it begins here with an innocent sounding melody. Then Schubert develops a kind of melodic cell that gets passed between the three instruments. The humour – exploited by The Gould Trio – comes mostly in the stop-start nature of the music. The trio section – usually a contrast – begins at 46:14 and is graceful, with long notes in the strings. The scherzo section returns at 48:05.

50:09 – the last movement begins with a sweet tune from the violin, then moves onto a more obviously dance-based second tune (50:49) Schubert then takes the music on a tour of some pretty distant tonal centres, setting his tunes in increasingly playful formats but keeping in the spirit of the dance. Then as the end approaches Schubert keeps pretending to finish before moving off in contrary directions…until he finally does at 59:02, setting off on a quick coda.

Further listening

Two bits of further listening for you this week – if you particularly enjoyed the Schubert, then The Gould Trio have a recording of the second piano trio made at the Wigmore Hall. It can be heard on Spotify below, occupying the last four tracks:

Meanwhile the Gould Piano Trio’s most recent recording, to be reviewed shortly on Arcana, is a fascinating collection of works for piano trio by three British composers – Sir Peter Maxwell Davies, the recently knighted Sir James MacMillan and Sally Beamish. That disc can be heard on the Spotify link below:

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Skampa Quartet at the Wigmore Hall – Writing home

Writing Home – the Skampa Quartet and Krzysztof Chorzelski at the Wigmore Hall

skampa-quartet

Skampa Quartet (Helena Jiříkovská and Adéla Štajnochrová (violins), Radim Sedmidubský (viola) and Lukáš Polák (cello), with Krzysztof Chorzelski (viola) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 8 June 2015

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b05xq5w0

on the iPlayer until 7 July

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, I have put together a Spotify playlist of most of the music in this concert, including recordings the artists have made where possible. The playlist can be found here:

What’s the music?

Suk: Meditation on an Old Czech Hymn ‘St Wenceslas’ Op 35a (1914) (6 minutes)

Pavel Fischer: String Quartet No 3 ‘Mad Piper’ (16 minutes)

Dvořák String Quintet in E flat major (1893) (34 minutes)

What about the music?

After the recent successes of Steven Isserlis and friends in playing Czech chamber music, the Wigmore Hall welcomed back the Skampa Quartet to explore more of the same. Few thrills in classical music beat Czech musicians enjoying the melodies and rhythms of their home country, and here the Skampa have picked a very satisfying program.

First up are the Meditations on an Old Czech Hymn ‘St Wenceslas’, written by Dvořák’s son-in-law Josef Suk, himself an accomplished composer of much orchestral music. This piece was written as World War I began, providing a boost to national morale in either of its versions, for string quartet or for string orchestra.

Dvořák himself was abroad when writing his third published String Quintet in E flat major, completed at Spillville in Iowa in the space of five weeks. This was the same place in Iowa where he wrote the celebrated American string quartet – and for the work that occupies Op.97 in his published catalogue (the ‘American’ is 96) he simply adds a second viola.

In the middle of the concert lies the third quartet of Pavel Fischer, a founder member and first violinist of the Skampa Quartet. Fischer has become interested in combining chamber and world music, as he has done here with a depiction of different pipers – Scottish (Mad Piper, a depiction of Piper Bill, who played while under fire during the D-day landing at Normandy) and Bulgarian (Sad Piper).

Performance verdict

The Skampa Quartet have long been one of the very best of their kind, and in Czech music there are few ensembles to equal them. This performance reminds us why, from the deeply soulful Suk to the strong folk flavours of the Pavel Fischer piece, which works really well in this performance – both tuneful and obviously ‘outdoors’.

The jewel in the crown, though, is the Dvořák, which receives an ideal performance here, its combination of American and Bohemian flavours perfectly blended.

What should I listen out for?

Suk

1:54 – We first hear a solemn intonation of the hymn from the quartet, given with very little vibrato, reminding us that the original hymn dates from around the twelfth century. Gradually Suk imposes his thoughts on the music as it gradually gains weight to a climactic point around 4:00, making a powerful impact. Then from around 6:00 there is heavier, gritty music, the full quartet digging their bows into the strings, then the first violin reaching for the heights. Then the music subsides, concluding softly at 8:34.

Pavel Fischer

11:10 The first movement (Mad Piper) shows how well the sonorities of a string quartet lead themselves to depictions of a bagpiper. The musical language is tonal, leading to an eloquent tune from the viola at 13:15, beautifully inflected here.

17:09 The second movement (Carpathian) begins with a quick pizzicato (plucked) line from the cello that sounds a bit like a walking bass, supporting a rough-shod and folky violin tune. This becomes more vigorous by turn.

18:56 The third movement (Sad Piper) gives its principal melody to the viola again, making a uniquely downcast and bird-like call.

22:28 The distinctive snap of the bow being hit on the string acts as a percussive beat to this final movement, called Ursari. Both violins duet in the distinctive melodies, which have a ‘knees-up’ quality, before the frenzied cello comes in, and then the action passes to the viola. At 24:34 a striking passage in the music takes us to a relatively ‘straight’ C major – but there is a jaunty finish in store from the ensemble at 26:50.

Dvořák

29:30 Dvořák has the uncanny knack of taking his listener outside with almost the first note of any of his American works, and he does so once again here, with the wide open textures and slightly plaintive melody – until the main theme makes itself fully known at 30:46, a firm and almost defiant tune. At 31:15 this is countered by a more obviously American tune on the viola.

A lot of these tunes use the pentatonic scale, which you can read more about here The movement continues with fluent writing for the quintet, with tautly argued versions of the tunes, the first of which returns at 36:02.

39:14 The second movement, a ‘Scherzo’, is one of the composer’s best loved, written with endearing mischief. Barely has the movement started when you realise you are actually hearing its main theme. Then, at 41:10, there is a tender tune from the viola that stops you in your tracks if played as beautifully as it is here! It is a very close relative of tunes used by the composer in his New World Symphony, and is picked up by the first violin before the main tune of the Scherzo itself returns at 43:13.

45:23 – the third movement, a slow movement marked ‘Larghetto’ (in a slow tempo), begins in the same key that the second movement left off. It presents a lower texture of cello and viola, playing a relatively mellow and tender tune that spends half its time in the minor key, half in the major – giving it a ‘darkness to light’ quality. This tune then passes through a sequence of variations that enable Dvorak to show his mastery of development, putting the original tune in some very different guises (52:10, for instance, a vigorous transformation!)

55:43 – the last movement begins with a catchy tune. Clearly Dvorak likes his audiences to leave with a tune to whistle! He adds a second one in a minor key for good measure at 56:59, providing an effective contrast – skilfully easing back into the main tune at 57:41. The minor key tune appears again at 1:00:19 – before Dvorak once again brings us to the main tune at 1:01:03. By now it’s a fully-fledged earworm! The piece is wrapped up with a short but emphatic coda from 1:03:22.

Further listening

While we’re enjoying Czech chamber music it seems churlish not to mention a new disc from the Pavel Haas Quartet, just released on Czech record label Supraphon, which features the two string quartets of Smetana. These are abundantly tuneful pieces, enormous fun to listen to but with a depth to them that shouldn’t go unnoticed – the first charting the composer’s loss of hearing with a dramatic twist in the last movement.

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