The greatest, most
seminal string quartet cycle since Beethoven’s
has done exceptionally well on disc.
There are at least a dozen highly recommendable
sets of the Bartók quartets now
on the market, including some at around
Naxos price. This new Vermeer cycle
has its work cut out to make inroads.
On initial acquaintance,
I feel a bit like I did about Marin
Alsop’s Miraculous Mandarin,
though maybe not quite as strongly;
that is, some very good things in and
among, but ultimately not enough bite
and attack to make it truly memorable.
The Vermeers produce a warm, homogenous
sound that suits some passages more
than others. They seem very much led
from the front, as it were, with veteran
Shmuel Ashkenasi’s first violin often
dominating the texture. His smooth sound,
with its rich vibrato, is quite romantic
and singing, but lacks something of
a raw edge at times.
The wisps of Debussy
and Brahms that are just about still
evident in the First Quartet
help to suit the Vermeer’s expressive
style. The first movement’s violin duet
motif is beautifully phrased, and the
polyphonic workings of the development
section also emerge with clarity and
an unforced eloquence. Likewise, the
Second Quartet’s more daring
territories (shades of Schoenberg’s
Second Quartet here) are charted
with the same sense of ease and line,
so that one can bask in the harmonies
rather than be brought up short by them.
Where things get muddier
is in the trio of middle quartets, where
Bartók’s astringency and dissonance
need to pack a wallop. The Vermeers
seem almost lax in what Paul Griffiths
calls the ‘furious compactness’ of the
Third Quartet, particularly when
compared to, say, the Alban Berg Quartet,
whose mid-1980s EMI set has long been
my benchmark. It’s not particularly
about tempo - although the ABQ do shave
off well over a minute from what is
only a 15-minute work - but more about
tightness of rhythmic attack and crispness
of phrasing. Similarly, the Fourth
Quartet’s muscular opening, with
its hints of Berg’s Lyric Suite,
sounds just a trifle slack and lacking
urgency. They do make some amends with
an atmospheric lento third movement,
the heart of the five-movement arch
structure, but they are no match for
the ABQ in the virtuosic scherzos that
frame it, especially the famous pizzicato
fourth movement or the prestissimo
second.
As so often with Naxos
and the market it aims at, no-one chancing
on this in their local store will be
at all disappointed. But a few minutes’
comparison with other sets, notably
the Takács and Emersons (full
price) or the excellent, idiomatic Hungarian
ensemble the Keller Quartet (super-budget
Ultima) may just show up some of the
shortcomings of this new set. I say
‘may’, because as I write and the Vermeers
wing their way through the Sixth
Quartet in the background, I begin
to admire their playing more and more
...
The sound is a touch
dry and close, which highlights some
of the playing qualities mentioned above,
but is remarkably consistent for what
was a three year recording venture.
Richard Whitehouse’s perceptive notes
are, as usual, a model of their kind.
Tony Haywood
Recorded at St. John Chrysostom Church, Newmarket,
Ontario, Canada, May 2001, February 2003 and
February 2004 
