Mozart 
                          & Bartók Alban Berg Quartet. QEH, 13.2. 2006 (CC)
                         
                        Quite 
                          an amazing occasion this, typical of the ABQ's concerts 
                          on the South Bank which have always been a regular source 
                          of delight and illumination - they were an Associate 
                          Artist of the SBC for over fifteen years! Though the 
                          quartet's world was thrown on its head in July 2005 
                          with the untimely death of its violist, Thomas Kakuska, 
                          his wish was that the group should continue after his 
                          passing and he nominated the present violist, his student 
                          Isabel Charirius, as his successor. She is a remarkable 
                          artist with an assertive musical character that nevertheless 
                          blends perfectly into the ABQ sound.
                          
                          They gave Mozart and Bartók 
                          for this occasion, two composers who work superbly together 
                          in a shared programme. Despite their different sound-worlds 
                          (brought closer perhaps with the inclusion of Mozart's 
                          'Dissonance' Quartet) both are absolute masters of the 
                          quartet medium, equal in enjoying the ability to present 
                          a flow of ideas that is as masterly as it is seemingly 
                          inevitable.
                          
                          The G major Quartet, K387 is 
                          the first of the so-called 'Haydn' Quartets and despite 
                          being bowled over by the new viola player's excellence, 
                          there seemed to me to be some interpretative indecision 
                          in the first movement. It felt as if the quartet could 
                          not decide whether to be over-serious or, indeed, to 
                          let the music smile - the 'open-air' confidence that 
                          Julian Haylock speaks of in his programme notes was 
                          perhaps slightly under a tarpaulin. The sophistication 
                          of the Minuet suited the quartet far better and while 
                          the Andante cantabile (the slow movement is placed third 
                          here) had some distinct patches of cloud as opposed 
                          to the 'sunlit radiance' that the programme promised 
                          – it was all the more powerful for them. 
                          
                          The quartet's leader, Günter 
                          Pichler, has given me cause for concern before. His 
                          tone can seem harsh sometimes (and indeed did so in 
                          the earlier stages of the work) and accents were occasionally 
                          stabbed at but he seemed to 'warm in' as he went on. 
                          
                          
                          Bartók's Second Quartet (1914-17) 
                          is a masterpiece. What Haylock describes as 'the cool 
                          glow of the dying embers of Romanticism' in the first 
                          movement was presented instead by the ABQ as a real 
                          expressionist angst. There was more than a hint of the 
                          Schoenbergian here. Pichler's stabbing, held in check 
                          since the first movement of K387, returned somewhat 
                          disappointingly, but was compensated by the contained 
                          energy of the inner parts. (Charisius incidentally, 
                          proved to be the loudest quartet-member violist I have 
                          ever heard.) The momentum of the fairly fierce Allegro 
                          molto capriccioso acted as appropriate contrast to the 
                          icy stasis of the final Lento. Here there seemed to 
                          be an infinity of pain, a tremendous sense of loss displayed 
                          by design and to great effect. Every second of was hypnotic 
                          and it is perfomances like these that makes the ABQ 
                          a great quartet.
                          
                          The slow introduction to Mozart's 
                          'Dissonance' quartet did seem something of a bridge 
                          back to the eighteenth century, but less so than it 
                          might have done in other players' hands. The ABQ laid 
                          emphasis on Mozart's advanced part-writing more than 
                          on the isolated dissonances per se – something that 
                          made Mozart's achievement seem all the more remarkable. 
                          The unashamedly big-boned passages of the first movement 
                          proper had their contrasting counterparts too, so that 
                          this was a whole world in one movement.
                          
                          The gorgeous outpouring of the 
                          Andante cantabile was infused with a very human warmth 
                          (astonishingly sotto voce); the Menuetto sat precisely 
                          midway between Haydnesque play and Beethovenian rough 
                          spirits leading to a finale infused with humanist light. 
                          The incredible encore – the 
                          Adagio molto from Bartók's Fifth Quartet – was dedicated 
                          to Kakuska's memory. There could surely have been no 
                          more moving tribute.
                          
                          
                          
                          
                          Colin Clarke