Wigmore Hall
String Quartet in G major,
op.64 no.4
String Quartet in D major,
op.64 no.5, ‘Lark’
String Quartet in E-flat major,
op.64 no.6
Alex Redington, Jonathan Stone (violins)
Hélène Clément (viola)
John Myerscough (cello)
I found this a perplexing yet
fascinating concert: not the programme, straightforwardly the last three of
Haydn’s twelve so-called ‘Tost’ quartets, but the performances. They brought
home to me some of the differences between mere taste and judgement. There was
much that I – and the friend who accompanied me still more – may not have liked
about what was heard here, and that inevitably forms part of our judgement. It
clearly should not form more than part of it, though, or criticism truly would
be nothing more than consumerism, well or ill ‘informed’. For, by the same
token, if often I found the general tone and playing style of the Doric Quartet
here strangely inward yet tense, to an extreme that seemed distinctly odd for
Haydn, I could not say that it was wrong, nor that many of the players’ other
choices did not have justification of their own. I was compelled by these
performances to listen, and indeed often to wonder anew at Haydn’s fabled
inventiveness, even if many other performances have spoken more touchingly,
more personally, even more enjoyably, to me.
There was nothing
objectionable, or even unusual, to the playing I heard at the opening of the G major
Quartet, op.64 no.4: stylish, cultivated, and clearly considered. The general
tone may have been somewhat ‘period’, but it proved varied and never dogmatic.
When vibrato was entirely withdrawn, it was for a discernible reason. There
was, moreover, a strong sense of formal dynamism to the first movement as a
whole. Those of Haydn’s figures with a resemblance to Mozart intrigued all the
more on account of the decidedly non-Mozartian use to which they were put.
There was a degree of relaxation to be heard in the minuet, still more so,
indeed markedly so, in its trio. Again, nothing was taken for granted. Likewise
in the Adagio, an austere yet serene
song of considerable cumulative power, albeit worlds away from the Amadeus
Quartet or the sound I hear in my head. It was worlds away too, I think, from,
say, the Quatuor Mosaïques; this had a tension and relative astringency very
much of its own. I did wonder, though, whether the players here and, still more
so in the finale, might have played out a little more at times. The latter
movement’s more extrovert moments told, but neither so clearly nor so joyfully
as they might.
The ‘Lark’ Quartet, op.65 no.5,
followed. I had heard this recently indeed, also at the Wigmore Hall, from the
Jerusalem Quartet. That performance had certainly been more to my taste, and also, I think, more
musically revealing (perhaps partly on account of taste). This performance,
though, again had me listen and think. The first movement began in playful yet
febrile fashion, once more deeply considered, and in many ways so it continued,
even when less tonally ingratiating. The development section showed us how many
ways there are to develop – well, a few of them anyway – even within a single,
concise span such as this. And the return was experienced, by me at least, very
much as a return. I have heard the music sound closer to Beethoven, not without
benefit, but it need not always do so. The slow movement sounded a note of
kinship to that in the preceding quartet, yet sang its own song, no one else’s.
There was a splendid sense of involvement to the minuet, in particular to its
marriage between harmony and counterpoint. However, sometimes the music seemed
in danger of losing its pulse, its impetus. Whilst I can understand the
temptation to play around, to linger, I am not sure that it ultimately worked
to Haydn’s advantage. The finale was, again, curiously restrained, indeed still
more so.
That I was taken by surprise by
Haydn’s tonal plan in the first movement of the E-flat major Quartet, op.64
no.6, can only be a good thing. Again, I was made to listen, in a performance that
perhaps laid greater emphasis upon counterpoint than harmony – but that is
never the easiest of balances to ensure. The passion of the central episode to
the slow movement was most welcome, indeed riveting. Its surrounding material
was certainly contrasted, but was it perhaps a little too cool? Were the
contrasts of the trios in the following movement again overdone? Perhaps.
Again, much is surely a matter of taste. I certainly liked the boisterous
quality to the minuet, though. The finale scampered along nicely, although
there were times when I wished it might have been taken off the leash. Such,
though, clearly was not the æsthetic of this particular performance, from which
I learned much.
