Francesconi, 
                        Kurtág, Ferneyhough, Dusapin:  The 
                        Arditti Quartet, Irvine Arditti (violin), Ashot Sarkissian 
                        (violin), Ralf Ehlers (viola), Lucas Fels (cello) Wigmore 
                        Hall, London, 23.01.2007 (AO)
Luca Francesconi: String Quartet No. 4 'I 
voli di Niccolň'
György Kurtág: 6 Moments Musicaux
Brian Ferneyhough: String Quartet No. 5
Pascal Dusapin: String Quartet No. 5
                        Please read what Irvine Arditti says about the programme: 
                        Here 
                        
                         
                        
 
                      This 
                        eagerly anticipated concert lived up to expectations – 
                        it was an exciting experience. The Arditti Quartet is 
                        intimately associated with the music on this programme, 
                        having premičred three of the four pieces and worked closely 
                        with all four composers. This concert was a very special 
                        insight into state of the art new music.
                        
                        It 
                        began with a tribute to one of the greatest violinists 
                        of all time, Niccolň Paganini. Francesconi’s String 
                        Quartet No 4, I voli di Niccolň is based on 
                        fragments of Paganini’s music. Francesconi has said that 
                        it was “like a journey by Paganini into present day time.” 
                        Perhaps that’s behind the first movement with its tentative, 
                        exploratory steps which then expand into spirited inventiveness. 
                        The references to folk dance are explicit, yet, despite 
                        the exuberance, this music requires precise playing. The 
                        extended pizzicato passages are carefully delineated, 
                        and at one stage Arditti holds a note for so long it seems 
                        to resonate on itself.
                        
                        Kurtág worked with the Arditti Quartet on their interpretation 
                        of  6 Moments musicaux. 
                        As Irvine Arditti puts it beautifully, the composer’s 
                        “instruction comes honestly and devoutly… like a religious 
                        act.” Kurtág’s spare, aphoristic style is more sophisticated 
                        than Francesconi’s, but also animated by fleeting glimpses 
                        of folk dance, particularly in the last movement subtitled 
                         In Janáĉek’s 
                        Manier. You’re reminded of ancient traditions 
                        of village fiddlers, even when you know you are listening 
                        to exquisitely virtuoso playing. There are strange sounds, 
                        such as bells and percussion, which wouldn’t be out of 
                        place in Janáĉek, 
                        but are quite an achievement in a string quartet! In the 
                        first section, Arditti holds a legato so quietly, it seems 
                        to hover into infinity. In the second section, the whole 
                        quartet ends up in kind of jarring unison punctuated by 
                        two distinct, sudden silences. There’s another pivot point 
                        later, where darkly insistent notes seem to loop round 
                        and decelerate, until a refined purity returns.
                        
                        This combination of firm strokes and extreme delicacy 
                        is fascinating. What struck me too, is the way melody 
                        seems to burst out irrepressibly, despite the dissonance, 
                        and despite the spartan simplicity of form. Perhaps that’s 
                        what makes this work intriguing, as it seems to connect, 
                        somehow, with something deep in the music subconscious. 
                        Each of the six sections contains references to music, 
                        literature and events “outside” the music as such. Section 
                        II, for example, is introduced with a quotation from a 
                        poem by Endre Ady, and then given the title Footfalls, 
                        in reference to the Beckett play. Section IV is a new 
                        version of an earlier piano piece written in memory of 
                        György Sebök. Section VI,  Les 
                        Adieux, first appeared in  Játékok, 
                        and then in op 34a,  New 
                        Messages for orchestra. The Moments 
                        exist, thus, on several levels.
                        
                        This performance of Brian Ferneyhough’s new  String 
                        Quartet No 5 was the first in London. 
                        It was something of an occasion, as his last string quartet 
                        was written 17 years ago. Moreover, as Ferneyhough has 
                        said, “if one comes out of composing a new piece without 
                        being different, there’s something wrong… we should make 
                        room for discovery”. If the act of composition is also 
                        an act of self awareness, listening to new work also stimulates 
                        new ideas, and new ways of thinking about familiar things. 
                        Ferneyhough has referred the way objects rearrange themselves, 
                        such as, “after the catastrophic depredations of a whirlwind, 
                        the ruined remains of complex structures reveal new aspects 
                        of their coexistence through communal subjection to irresistible 
                        external forces”. He has also spoken of watching a row 
                        of deck chairs collapse in a gust of wind. They were still 
                        deck chairs but upended, they looked completely different.
                        
                        It’s worth quoting him at length, because his images reinforce 
                        what happens in this quartet. It starts with bold, probing 
                        figures, bows stabbing out jagged chords. Ehler’s viola 
                        introduces a more sonorous undercurrent. A powerful, distinctive 
                        figure enters, a sound like a squeaking gate blowing unhinged, 
                        scraping metal against metal. Again, it’s hardly a sound 
                        you’d expect from a string quartet, but here it’s so apt 
                        and so perfectly accomplished. Arditti beats out a staccato 
                        figure that evolves into long, slow bowings on cello. 
                        Soon, all seem to be playing variations of the metallic 
                        scraping, and then there’s a dramatic solo for the cello, 
                        which Lucas Fels carried off vividly. Ferneyhough also 
                        writes short solos for the second violin, and for viola. 
                        Ashot Sarkissian made his violin sound like a samisen 
                        beating out a three note pattern. In the final section, 
                        a dominant feature is a figure, where sound is drawn out 
                        as if played on a wind instrument, hollow and sustained. 
                        It had appeared earlier, but now propels the whole piece 
                        until it gradually subsides back into the silence that 
                        prevailed before the first note sounded.
                        
                        Pascal Dusapin makes much of his love of reading Beckett 
                        in his own  Fifth 
                        String Quartet, also completed in 2006. Indeed, 
                        he suggests that it should be called the “Mercier et Camier 
                        Quartet” as it reflects the two personalities in the novel. 
                        It starts with downbeat pizzicato, which works, as Arditti 
                        says, like “a carpet, for a very high, bird-like solo” 
                        on the primary violin. This searching soliloquy is answered 
                        by the second violin, reinforcing the idea of dialogue. 
                        Indeed, much of the movement in the piece comes from the 
                        shifting murmurings of combinations of players, and soaring 
                        asides from the two violins. At the end, Arditti’s uplifting 
                        solo draws the piece to a harmonic conclusion. It is a 
                        warm, gentle and quite understated piece which reveals 
                        itself discreetly, and will, I think, repay further listening.
                        
                        It was a privilege to attend this concert, and hear music 
                        being made at this insightful level. This was a well planned 
                        programme, the works enhancing each other. Beckett in 
                        Kurtág and Dusapin, no less, but then there are many levels 
                        in music like this. It was even more fascinating to hear 
                        the many experiments with un-string-like sounds, and the 
                        imaginative ideas!  
Anne Ozorio