So
to the final concert in this season’s Wigmore
Radio 3 Lunchtime series. The Hall was being
shut down at 2.30pm (until October 2004, ed),
so it was appropriate that the series and
the season should end on a high.
The
Janáček
Quartet (Miloš Vacek, Vítĕzslav
Zavadilík, violins; Ladislav Kyselák,
viola; Břetislav
Vybíral, cello) has a distinguished
history. It was founded in 1947 and there
have been remarkably few changes of personnel
in that time. It has only ever had two violists
and two cellists, the present two being pupils
of their predecessors. An all-Czech programme
meant that there should be plenty to savour
– as was, indeed, the case.
The
first work was by Josef Suk (who married Dvořák’s
daughter Otilie). The short (six-minute) Meditation
on an Old Czech Hymn ‘St Wenceslas’, for
string quartet or string orchestra was written
in 1914 and suited the ensemble perfectly.
The Janáček
Quartet’s sound is characteristic of the region,
being very warm-toned, and that fitted perfectly
with Suk’s nostalgia-laden work where delicacy
is the watchword. Very special.
Smetana’s
Second Quartet (D minor, 1882/3) is a remarkably
visionary work, more overtly modern in outlook
than one might expect from this composer –
witness the frequent changes of tempo in the
first movement. All this is a direct result
of Smetana’s illness at the time (he was to
die not too long afterwards). The Janáček
Quartet proved that they are capable of stern,
strong statements without breaking the warmth
of their tone, and they really seemed to enjoy
the harmonic arrivals. The Quartet seemed
to detect that there is a joy buried somewhere
deep below the surface, trying desperately
(and failing) to get out – this was aurally
evident in both first and last movement. In
between came a foot-tapping Polka, out of
which an Andante cantabile blossomed forth,
and a third movement during which the performance
seemed to light up, moving from the excellent
to the transcendent. The sense of flow and
inevitability was remarkable.
Finally,
Janáček’s
Second Quartet of 1928, the so-called ‘Intimate
Letters’ (because of his love for the much
younger Kamila Stösslová). It
is a fearsomely difficult work, something
the Janáček
Quartet seemed to feed off. This was truly
the climax of this remarkable concert – Janáček’s
characteristic ostinati seemed as natural
as breathing to the players, lending a hyper-intensity
to the flow. Perhaps most memorable was the
heart-breaking desolation that seemed so much
a part of this performance, a sense of sadness
inextricably linked to a feeling of hopelessness.
Contrasts were stark, so that the rollicking
opening to the finale stood in dark juxtaposition
to the black episodes. A remarkable close
to a remarkable concert that reminded us not
only of the magnificence of the music from
the Czech lands, but of the supreme excellence
of their players.
A wonderful
way to close a season that has included many
memorable concerts.
Colin Clarke