Wigmore Hall
Mahler – Piano Quartet (movement)
in A minor
Schumann – Piano Quartet in
E-flat major, op.47
Brahms – Piano Quartet no.1 in
G minor, op.25
Daniel Hope (violin)
Paul Neubauer (viola)
David Finckel (cello)
Wu Han (piano)
Three piano quartet works for
my first outing to the Wigmore Hall of the 2016-17 season: all in estimable
performances, circling around and, in the second half, meeting the formidable
figure of Brahms. Mahler’s early movement caught well in performance the
slightly stifling atmosphere of a Brahmsian inheritance, even though written in
the mid-1870s. Daniel Hope, Paul Neubauer, David Finckel, and Wu Han offered
transparency too: one could always hear where the lines were going – and why.
It never really sounded like Mahler, but it never does; indeed, it is difficult
to imagine how it could. The movement is what it is, and I have always been
greatly fond of it; I continued to be so on this occasion.
In Schumann’s E-flat major
Quartet, the introduction to the first movement showed itself alert to
Beethovenian precedent, soon flowering, at the opening of the exposition
proper, into post-Schubertian mode. The path taken thereafter was inescapably ‘later’
– there was some splendidly dark, Romantic playing – but that context had been
established, much to the music’s advantage. It is well-nigh impossible not to
think of Mendelssohn when an elfin dance, such as we hear in the second
movement, comes our way, but it was the differences, Schumann’s singularity,
which – rightly – registered more strongly still. This was agile, directed
playing, playing that yet yielded to Schumannesque volatility, neither
overplayed nor unacknowledged. The Andante
cantabile struck just the right note of a romance or intermezzo, its depths
undeniable, yet unexaggerated. It might have flowed more easily at times, but
that was partly a consequence of having taken the music with proper seriousness.
The finale sounded ebullient yet poignant, in its knowledge that a Haydnesque
conclusion was both desirable yet by now unattainable. And in that respect,
above all, we looked – listened – forward to Brahms.
The first movement of Brahms’s
G minor Quartet emerged in highly contrasted fashion. Occasionally, I wondered
whether its contrasts were achieved at the expense of a stereotypically ‘organic’,
Brahmsian line. The performance nevertheless always held the attention and led to such questioning in the first
place. The moment of return seemed to me spot on, in Beethoven’s spirit, again
without any need for underlining. Style grew out of idea in the Intermezzo; I
could almost sense Schoenberg nodding approval. I loved the lilt of Han’s piano
playing here. If there were times when I felt tension might have been more
consistently upheld, I should not wish to exaggerate. Rich string tone
announced the third movement: clearly for the players – as for us – the emotional
centre of the work. It was not just a matter of a Brahmsian sound, though;
rhythmic command proved crucial too. This was an involved, yet never
convoluted, performance. Rhythm is overtly crucial, of course, in the finale,
but other elements are just as important to the success of a performance. Here
they shone through admirably, melodic and harmonic concerns very much to the
fore too. Perhaps the performance veered a little close to the episodic at
times, but the movement’s spirit was captured with great success – and not a
little virtuosic intensity.
