Seiber’s three quartets span most of his compositional
life and form a compelling narrative. The First was begun when
he was eighteen and is a marvellously accomplished work. The
first movement was written last and contains a good ration of
folk-like melodic statements and feel, the first violin spinning
a succulent line over throbbing pizzicato. Whether in unison
or in single battalions Seiber manages to vest the line with
unremitting timbral interest. This makes a fine contrast to
the rather terse concentrated chiaroscuro of the central movement,
though its B section is very much more animated and lyrical
before the return of the rapt opening feel. The first of the
three movements to be composed was actually the finale, but
this chronologically topsy-turvy work nevertheless hits all
the right spots, not least here. It’s the most explicitly
free and folkloric movement, being vital, rhythmically free
and charmingly brief.
The second quartet came a full decade later and occupies wholly
different ground. Seiber had by now fully absorbed central European
musical directions and his quicksilver Schoenbergian ethos offers
a plethora of fascinating things. The confidence of its handling
hardly needs to be remarked upon, but its vitality and changeability
is certainly deserving of notice. The central movement is a
so-called ‘Blues’, but its Intermezzo function is
a long way away from the mediated avidity of, say, Milhaud or
Schulhoff. Instead, with its glissandi and transformative spirit,
we get a shimmering sense of the Blues but in a serial context
- rather Krenek like, occasionally remote and austere in places.
The finale has plenty of colour and expressive devices, a Bergian
subtlety of deployment. When the music slows, dramatically and
introspectively, it does so with an end that is both quixotic
and also questioning.
The final quartet is probably the best known of the three. It
was dedicated to, and recorded by, the Amadeus, so it garnered
a deal of exposure. The slow opening unfolds deftly with germ-like
ideas, whilst the central movement utilises the same note-series
as the first, and exudes the same kind of cyclical principles
that Seiber often employed. Introspective and deeply contemplative,
the finale has not a single frivolously placed note; instead
it pursues a course of steady questioning through the most concentrated
of means.
Once again the Edinburgh Quartet impresses. They marry technical
address to musico-expressive insights, and the results are consistently
illuminating not least because the fine recording, in Prestonkirk
Parish Church, East Linton is first class. Hugh Wood’s
booklet notes are similarly impressive. Seiber’s quartets
are in the best of hands in this enlightening disc.
Jonathan Woolf
see also review by Rob
Barnett
Edinburgh Quartet 
