The name Fine Arts
Quartet immediately rings a bell
and evokes memories of my earliest years
as a record collector. On the Saga label,
one of the earliest low-budget companies
during the LP era, they gave us the
Bartók quartets and Brahms’ clarinet
quintet with the eminent Reginald Kell.
I dug out that record from one of the
stacks that now have to be stored in
an annex; it was published in 1962.
The members then were Leonard Sorkin,
violin, Abram Loft, violin, Irving Ilmer,
viola and George Sopkin, cello, of which
Sorkin and Sopkin were founding members
back in 1946. Changes of personnel have
of course taken place, but of the present
members cellist Wolfgang Laufer replaced
Sopkin in 1979, first violinist Ralph
Evans succeeded Sorkin in 1982 and second
violinist Efim Boico joined in 1983,
which means that the three of them have
been playing together for almost 25
years. Violist Yuri Gandelsman arrived
in 2001. With such longevity, especially
in the outer voices, the tradition no
doubt lives on and together with the
Borodin Quartet, founded the same year
although initially under a different
name, the Fine Arts Quartet can claim
to be possibly the most long-lived quartet.
I am not quite sure how long the Galimir
Quartet endured: it was founded in 1929
while Felix Galimir was still a teenager
and as late as 1983 they still performed
with the founder as first violinist
but in between it had been defunct for
periods.
Anyway, remembrances
of the Fine Arts’ recordings from the
1960s tempted me to ask for the present
disc, in spite of not being a specialist
in Schumann’s chamber music. The first
impression seemed to confirm that tradition
had been preserved. The silken tone,
the lightness of the bowing that characterized
the Brahms quintet is in evidence here.
There is after all a certain kinship
between that most ethereal of Brahms
compositions and Schumann’s more lyrically
atmospheric than powerfully outgoing
quartets. Inspired by Beethoven and
Haydn he was a weaker personality and
the musical equivalent of Beethoven’s
wrinkled forehead and profound penetration
of the innermost corners of a dark soul,
in Schumann’s hands becomes a more idyllic
landscape, technically accomplished
and inventive with skilful contrapuntal
writing and not devoid of darker streaks.
The dreamy introduction
to the A minor quartet (tr. 1) could
be as good a calling card as any to
the lyrical side of the quartet’s playing,
where the unanimous attack and the homogenous
sound at once places this group among
the elite of today’s chamber music ensembles.
In a livelier mood the scherzo (tr,
2) whirls along almost nonchalantly
but with expert precision. The Adagio
(tr. 3), where the viola’s plucked string
accompaniment reminds us that Schumann’s
instrument was the piano, has a serene
beauty, not without sombre undertones.
It is played with hushed intensity,
while the concluding Presto in
glaring contrast has an uninhibited
down-to-earth joyfulness. This is healthily
vital music, where an almost immobile
Moderato section provides a resting
point before the powerful final bars.
The Schumann quartets
are relatively rarely featured on chamber
music programmes. It was some time since
I had heard any of them and truth to
tell I have held them in no high esteem,
finding them fairly bloodless. Either
I have been unlucky to hear them in
mediocre performances or I have become
more open-minded. Compared to Beethoven
he can still feel a bit pale but Schumann’s
poetry has its own rewards. The F major
quartet is probably the most elusive,
like a butterfly fluttering about, weightless
on a beautiful summer’s day in search
for nectar. The Fine Arts catch this
lightness with great elegance.
By far the longest
work is the A major quartet, playing
here for more than 32 minutes. It is
conceived on a grander scale than the
others but it is still predominantly
lyrical. The slow movement, Adagio
molto, must count as one of the
most beautiful single pieces Schumann
ever wrote – inward, private music,
played here with great care for nuance.
Having a weakness for seeing pictures
in music I spot a couple of jolly vagabonds
in the finale, wandering through a sun-drenched
landscape, now junping about, now running
quickly, now marching. It makes for
a high-spirited end to the quartet.
My only other recording
of a Schumann quartet was the Alberni
Quartet’s version of the A major. Apart
from the Adagio molto they are
marginally faster than the Fine Arts.
The finale at first sounded a bit rushed,
but they are also a little more incisive
which gives their reading an extra frisson
of excitement. While finding both versions
wholly acceptable I wonder if Schumann
himself wouldn’t have found the Fine
Arts Quartet more to his liking. Comparisons
can sometimes be odious and on their
own merits this well-filled disc will
not disappoint. Especially at Naxos’
price readers who have so far fought
shy of these quartets should give them
a try. Like me, they will possibly find
that this is eminently well-wrought
and attractive music. Keith Anderson’s
liner notes are as usual illuminating.
Göran Forsling
Fine Arts Quartet: Ralph Evans (violin);
Efim Boico (violin); Yuri Gandelsman (viola);
Wolfgang Laufer (cello) 
