Recordings from the Marlboro Festival have been made 
          since 1957 when CBS first took its recording equipment to the Summer 
          Festival in Vermont. The Busch-Serkin-Moyse institution, founded in 
          1951, has always been notable for the distinction of the many émigré 
          musicians associated with it – from the trio of founders, through Casals 
          – whose orchestral recordings of the 1960s and 70s were so popular – 
          to Serkin, Végh, Schneider and the many quartets and chamber 
          groups, established and ad hoc, that have sojourned there. To celebrate 
          the fiftieth Anniversary Bridge issued this two CD set of performances 
          given between 1969 (the Schubert with Valente, Wright and Serkin) and 
          1997 (the two Kurtág works). This, I suppose, embodies a Marlboro 
          aesthetic, older artists working alongside younger, canonical works 
          programmed with challenging contemporary repertoire. The booklet manages 
          to capture some of these decisive virtues with a delicious series of 
          photographs – Casals, with pipe and black umbrella looking every inch 
          the Grand Seigneur, the comic duo of Sasha Schneider and Rudolf Serkin, 
          the former dishevelled and wavy hair untamed, the latter besuited and 
          owlishly amused, and Sándor Végh conducting the chamber 
          orchestra, his arms outstretched like some huge force of nature trying 
          to envelop the universe. 
        
 
        
The programme begins with Beethoven’s avuncular Marches 
          played by Cécile Licad and Mieczysław 
          Horszowski, the latter four times the former’s age. Youth and experience 
          conjoin in chamber parity, in a performance full of bite and swing. 
          The highly experienced Italian violinist Pina Carmirelli leads the performance 
          of the Verdi Quartet and a fine tonal blend is immediately established 
          in the opening Allegro. The quartet find a good basic tempo for the 
          Andantino, relaxing delightfully into the slower section, and take the 
          Prestissimo movement very quickly but maintaining clarity of articulation 
          – and displaying collective wit in the tricky pizzicati passage. All 
          four are on fine form in the imposing fugal finale. Schubert’s Der Hirt 
          auf dem Felsen is sensitively done, albeit Benita Valente sometimes 
          forces her voice, and Mendelssohn’s Quartet – in a tape dating from 
          1995 – has an especially attractive dynamic shaping to it in this performance. 
          The sense of lofty delicacy engendered in the Presto finale is very 
          welcome and the reappearance of the expressive Adagio’s material in 
          the finale is executed with care and with refinement. 
        
 
        
The second disc is an all-Hungarian affair, Bartók, 
          Kurtág and Ligeti. Végh directs a towering performance 
          of the Divertimento. Bite and drive animate the Allegro first movement, 
          galvanizing pizzicati surging the musical argument forward. Equally 
          the reduced terracing of dynamics and the withdrawn intensity of the 
          central slow movement are palpable and the folk vitality and vivacity 
          of the finale full of lift and life – the sense of contoured onrush 
          seismic. The Marlboro Festival Strings shine throughout. Kurtág’s 
          short, nine-minute Quintet is full of contrasts. In the fourth movement, 
          a little molto sostenuto, the horn remains implacable whilst oscillatory 
          frivolity surrounds it and in the Grave a compact mordancy is established 
          with extraordinary precision (it lasts a mere forty-five seconds). The 
          Hommage à Mihály András, subtitled 12 Microludes 
          for String Quartet, is by turns intense, withdrawn and lyrical (the 
          fifth is of exquisite beauty). By the time we reach the tenth of these 
          spectrally short pieces (the whole work plays for barely ten minutes) 
          the writing has become frantically agitated followed immediately by 
          the blanched reflectiveness of the penultimate Microlude and the quizzical 
          poetry of the last. To finish the programme there is Ligeti’s First 
          Quartet, a marvellous and substantial achievement of some twenty-two 
          minutes’ length. Vivid and frantically motoric this one movement work 
          (Metamorphoses nocturnes is the sub-title) begins with powerful 
          instrumental and motivic urgency. Swiftly though it relaxes into becalmed 
          stasis before renewed power and an air of neo-classicist vigour imparts 
          that mobility, the effortless spirit of mutability and changeability 
          that animates the whole work. Around 11.50 a mordant, pizzicato-activated 
          drunken episode breaks in soon to give way to the keening of the solo 
          violin over a drone accompaniment. This whole episode is saturated in 
          nostalgic village memories one feels before the off-beat pizzicati impart 
          an increasingly whimsical profile to the direction of the music. After 
          this ceaseless activity and change the cello becomes increasingly ruminative 
          and all four instruments slowly but inexorably conjoin in a profoundly 
          interior close, bringing the work to a satisfying intellectual and expressive 
          end. The quartet of Kim, Cho, Johnson and Palm are highly impressive 
          here. 
        
 
        
An admirable salute then to Marlboro, enshrining some 
          generous performances, spiced with rigour and prescient intellectual 
          sinew, all of which one associates, in the very best sense, with the 
          Vermont festival. 
        
 
        
Jonathan Woolf