“[Bax’s] tunes that haunted me were the cello phrase opening 
                  Bax’s Piano Quintet and the viola tune from Tintagel.” – 
                  Felix Apprahamian - writing in March 1982 for the Foreword to 
                  the First Edition of Lewis Foreman’s Bax – A Composer and 
                  His Times. 
                    
                  Bax’s Piano Quintet is a long-spanned, sprawling, complex work 
                  - possibly too complex - certainly Lewis Foreman in his biography 
                  of the composer suggests it is. There is an impression of there 
                  being larger forces at work here than just a quintet. It stands 
                  at the end of the period of his early works and marks a shift 
                  in style to a more mature outlook. It can be seen to be pointing 
                  the way towards his symphonies of the 1920s and 1930s. The string 
                  writing includes many colourful effects while the piano part 
                  is beautifully sensitive and decorative as well as assertive. 
                  The first two movements were written very swiftly in mid-July 
                  1914 but the third movement did not follow until the Great War 
                  had been raging for several months. As Bax’s biographer, Lewis 
                  Foreman suggests, “its colder atmosphere may well reflect the 
                  dark and ominous cloud that had darkened the sunny landscape 
                  of the earlier movements.” 
                    
                  Bax’s Piano Quintet was first performed at a private gathering 
                  of a Music Club Concert in London’s Savoy Hotel on 19 December 
                  1917 with Harriet Cohen and the English String Quartet. It is 
                  tempting to think that Bax might have revised some of its music 
                  between its conception and this private performance. Some part 
                  of its influence might have been not just the Great War but 
                  also the events in Ireland and, especially, the early experiences 
                  of his turbulent relationship with his lover, Harriet Cohen. 
                  It should be stated that Bax did not give any clue as to any 
                  proposed programmatic origin for this remarkable work. Yet his 
                  detailed expressionistic score markings would suggest that there 
                  could have been a non-musical inspiration. Enigmatically what 
                  might be regarded as Spanish inflections may be discerned, in 
                  the second and third movements. 
                    
                  The Quintet opens with defiant, muscular piano chords and a 
                  portentous cello theme redolent of the tempestuous and passionate 
                  music that comprises so much of this epic, almost 19-minute-long 
                  opening movement. There are quasi-dance measures, sometimes 
                  merry, at other times wild and frenzied. The movement’s lyrical 
                  episodes are tinged with yearning and possibly nostalgic regret. 
                  Celtic influences and liturgical elements are also apparent. 
                  
                    
                  The complex slow movement commences with pizzicato string chords. 
                  Rippling watery piano figurations accompany a slowly-unwinding, 
                  serenely-romantic string melody. Another liturgical figure arises 
                  counterpointed by a persistent figure that is uncannily like 
                  Bernard Herrmann’s obsessive habanera for Hitchcock’s Vertigo. 
                  Slow and quietly meditative string music contrasts with evocations 
                  of sea-waves from the piano. 
                    
                  The finale continues the emphatic and tempestuous mood of the 
                  opening movement and at about one minute in, those obsessive 
                  Herrmann-esque figures are heard again leading to barbaric, 
                  possessed dance figures. This is an extraordinary movement, 
                  its temperature often icy, with some weird effects. The Celtic 
                  influence is strong too. 
                    
                  Ashley Wass, so well-attuned to Bax’s idiom, as evidenced on 
                  his previous, well-received, Naxos Bax releases, is partnered 
                  by an equally responsive Tippett Quartet, to deliver a committed 
                  performance of this passionate, capricious music. 
                    
                  Frank Bridge’s lovely, shorter Piano Quintet belongs to his 
                  more accessible, first creative period. It was originally conceived 
                  as a four-movement piece but it was radically revised in 1912 
                  when the composer virtually re-wrote the first movement, shortening 
                  it and lightening its textures, and compressing the two middle 
                  movements into one. Like the Bax Quintet, it too begins in turmoil 
                  but its darker pages vie with the most gorgeous melody, a tune 
                  that has persisted in my mind for days, especially as played 
                  so tenderly here. The second movement charms. It opens softly, 
                  slowly and meditatively before another lovely romantic melody 
                  unfolds. A touch of Mendelssohn follows with a scampering elfin 
                  scherzo. The Allegro energico finale is forceful with 
                  much energy and fire. A wistful tune voiced by the viola and 
                  developed by the piano and strings brings lyrical relief. 
                    
                  Stunning performances of two important British Piano Quintets. 
                  
                    
                
Ian Lace