The combined Kodály
and Auer serve up an unusually delicate Mendelssohn Octet, bringing
out, deliberately or otherwise, its family resemblance to the
Midsummer Night's Dream music. The pulsing accompaniment
at the first movement's start almost sneaks in, with the main
theme rising lyrically over it. The fortes are never harsh or
edgy; even the full chords are gently attacked. If you're accustomed
to more aggressive accentuations and energized bowings in this
music, the playing may feel understated. On the other hand,
the second theme's reappearances in the minor take on a nice
mystery and suspension, and there's enough impulse and sense
of purpose to bind everything together. The coda's climaxes
really do feel too consciously reined-in; even so, everything
is properly proportioned to set up the peak moments.
The famous Andante
also floats in lightly and quietly; the bassi don't apply excessive
weight, and the upper strings float in like gossamer. The triplets,
when they arrive, produce a subdued sort of agitation. As the
movement progresses, however, the melodic fragments don't stand
in sufficiently sharp relief against the accompaniments; with
insufficient variety of texture to draw the ear, the overall
effect is pallid. The Scherzo's flickering undulations revive
interest, with some thrust in the phrasing, although there's
also some loss of momentum through the series of violin turns
in the middle section (at about 2:26). After some scrubby opening
figures, the players lean into the finale's theme with a nice
swing, its pointed accents taking the piece to a satisfying
close.
Bruch's three-movement
Octet is apparently a reworking of a string quintet, and offers
the further option of string-orchestra performance, but this
was my first encounter with it. It's a well-wrought, appealing
piece, even if it seems impossibly conservative for 1920: the
harmonic and structural idiom is that of Mendelssohn and Schumann,
from a century earlier. The chorale-like writing at the start
evokes a rapt, prayerful mood, contrasted against a more forceful
second subject; there's a magical moment at 3:21, where the
vigorous cadence melts into the descending legato phrases that
begin the development. In the first part of the central Adagio,
a dotted motif maintains an ominous undercurrent beneath long-breathed
lines. At 2:04, the music unexpectedly pivots into the major,
becoming expansively lyrical; this more hopeful mood dominates
the remainder of the movement, even through the return of the
opening motif. The finale briefly flirts with high drama, but
the main material is cheerful; as in the Mendelssohn, the players
infuse the movement with a buoyant, infectious rhythmic swing.
Bruch's replacement
of Mendelssohn's second cello with a double bass more firmly
anchors the sonority, giving a more substantial, "symphonic"
effect. Perhaps influenced by this, the ensemble's playing changes
markedly here. In the first movement, for example, the incisive
attack on the second subject is unlike anything we heard in
the Mendelssohn, as is the emphatic marking of the arrival point
at 7:31. The performance as a whole sounds better fleshed-out,
tonally and musically, than in the other piece.
Recommended for
the Bruch, and for a different take on the ever-popular Mendelssohn.
Stephen Francis Vasta
Kodály Quartet
