By David Beech
The St. Lawrence string quartet rounded out a strong Chamber Music Monterey Bay season at Sunset Center last night with impassioned performances of works by Haydn, John Adams and Mendelssohn. The homogeneity and warmth of their tone were remarkable, the quartet sounding like a single rich instrument expressing the musical ideas in a flow of liquid gold. Together with much brilliant passage work, this was virtuosity of a high order. The visual effect was also striking, not only for the fine floral display to the side of the stage, but for the footwork of the players which deserved some comments from a ballet critic. At times both violinists had both feet off the floor, the cellist went on his toes, and the viola rocked back on high stiletto heels. The first violinist also exhibited a wide repertoire of knee movements, and yet, closing one’s eyes, one could confirm that none of this display detracted from the pure musical quality of the sound produced.
Beginning with the second of Haydn’s Lobkowitz quartets, Op.77 no.2 in the pastoral key of F major, the players took a couple of movements to reach their best, the first movement being rather briskly efficient, and the unusual presto minuet being a shade too quick to make the most of its witty hemiolas, although the haunted tone color of the trio section was a harbinger of things to come. It was in the slow movement that the quartet relaxed and gave an outstanding account of the theme and Haydn’s effortless variations, reminiscent of his Emperor quartet, achieving divine simplicity with very sparing use of vibrato, and some magical ppp filigree violin decorations over the cello statement of the theme. The turns, which are such a feature of the melody, were played with elegance and consistency on the different instruments, and listeners were drawn into this intimate music making, with its moving final pianissimo occurrence of the theme. This high standard was maintained through the finale, with beautifully sprung rhythm and excellent intonation, nowhere more evident than in the delightful high pp violin comments near the end, leading to a convincing conclusion and an enthusiastic reception from the audience.
The new Quartet from celebrated San Francisco composer John Adams was written for the St. Lawrence Quartet, thanks to a commission from the Juilliard School, with generous support from the Trust of Francis Goelet, Stanford Lively Arts, and the Banff Centre. An astonishingly motivated and intense work, it would take more than one hearing to come to terms with it, but the St. Lawrence players left no doubt of their commitment and mastery – let us hope they are intending to record it. The only help we were given beforehand was to be told that there were two sections, both long. The structure of the work seemed to be that of a mystery whose secret was revealed only at the end, where a few distinct notes were played and then assembled into an unresolved dissonance. With this information, the plot should be much easier to follow at a second hearing. However, all that this reviewer can report at the moment is that within each section, there appeared to be an approximation to two linked movements, first a frenetic opening movement followed by a slow movement, then a scherzo running into a finale. There was undeniable momentum and emotional impact, with the first and third “movements” in particular exploiting ostinato rhythms while, as usual with Adams, introducing enough variety to avoid the near-boredom induced by the total minimalists. Right from the start, the ostinato served only as an accompaniment to pizzicato and arco melodies on the cello, and legato phrases on the violins, even some bat-like squeaks, and a reproving comment from the viola (overall, this was a quiet night for the viola, who was however a flawless contributor to the ensemble). There was sweet high vibrato in the violins, virtuosity from the cello, and incessant underlying frenzy even in pianissimo, until suddenly the mood changed. The unaccompanied violin, then viola, led us into the slow “movement”, with the whole quartet coming together in something akin to Bartok’s “night music” effects, with quasi glissandi, trills and tremolos, and jagged rhythms accented with pizzicati. The whole first section closed with single notes on each instrument. The ensuing scherzo with its rapid chugging accompaniment was eerily like a twenty-first century take on Haydn’s presto minuet that we had heard earlier, and there was a great feeling that members of the St. Lawrence quartet all have rhythm in their bones, giving them a natural precision. However, the composer has a joke up his sleeve, inserting an interlude which sounds like a rehearsal gone astray, with the cello stubbornly insisting on his own rhythm and taking on the rest of the quartet single-handed for a while before everyone quietly restarts the chugging, and moves on to the finale with more special effects such as drones, working up to a fine climax before the eventual expository dissonance. The St. Lawrence quartet proved to be a brilliant advocate of this challenging addition to the repertoire.
By this stage of the proceedings, the St. Lawrence players were in fine shape to bring to Mendelssohn the extra fire needed to bring his later compositions into the same league as his incomparable early Octet, and they did not disappoint. The Op.80 Quartet in F minor was written after the death of Mendelssohn’s sister Fanny (to be followed all too soon by his own death), and in it he seems both to rail against her early death, and to celebrate her life. We heard agonized dotted rhythms on the minor sixth, and moving espressivo phrasing without any loss of urgency, through to the dramatic accelerando that closes the first movement – this is a work of economical proportions, where none of the movements outstays its welcome. The opening phrases of the strangely yearning scherzo were perhaps a shade too turbulent, but the ending pizzicati were always wonderfully well done, and the trio had the viola and cello beautifully blended. The serene slow movement in A flat major again showed us how well this quartet can play in a semplice style, with gorgeous sound, restraint, and the clearly intended portamento across the wide intervals. The finale returned to the minor, and moved inexorably to the overwhelming ending. A memorable performance!
As an encore, we were treated to a movement from Dvorak’s “Cypresses”, a work that he had himself arranged for string quartet from an early set of songs. For this, the second violinist took the first chair, and played the innocent melody with ideal purity of tone.
[David Beech, an amateur clarinetist, pianist and clavichordist, and a music lover of broad experience and taste, is a frequent contributor as a guest reviewer in this column.]
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