Seen and Heard Concert
Review
Schubert & Kancheli:
Alban Berg Quartet, Heinrich Schiff, cello, Queen Elizabeth Hall,
9 May, 2005 (TJH)
Schubert: Quartettsatz in C minor, D703
Kancheli: Night Prayers for string quartet and tape
Schubert: String Quintet in C, D956
Giya Kancheli is one of those composers who, like Henryk Górecki
or Ludovico Einaudi, may be more familiar to the occasional listener
of classical music than to the serious collector. His quiet, reflective
music might have Schnittke and Gubaidulina in its blood, but an
all-pervasive blanket of ‘spirituality’ ensures that
it never really startles the horses. ‘Night Prayers’
is a good example: here is a piece written in response to a bloody
civil war that deploys the potentially hair-raising combination
of string quartet and tape and lasts over 20 minutes. But what
does Kancheli do with these potent ingredients? As the title might
suggest, very little. It is one of those so-called ‘meditative’
works, for which one might read ‘long stretches of inactivity
interspersed by some woolly musical symbolism’. Unfortunately,
the symbols are hardly earth-shattering: the most compelling motif
in the whole work consists of one note, repeated.
Such unpromising material can still yield a great performance,
however. The Alban Berg Quartet played it on Monday night with
the sort of hushed reverence usually reserved for a late Beethoven
quartet, teasing out endless shades of quietude in the murky region
between sound and silence. Soaring harmonics from Günter
Pichler’s first violin conveyed a sense of doleful beauty,
outlining simple minor scales and arpeggios, whilst the quartet
as a whole played with such dedication – even passion at
times – that it was easy to forgive, or at least forget,
the music’s dogged banality. There were dramatic outbursts,
of course, but none of them created more than a light ripple on
the music’s placid surface; as a matter of fact, it was
the silences – poignant and pregnant – that left the
greatest impression.
The concert had opened with a work seemingly chosen to underline
Kancheli’s weaknesses. Schubert wrote his Quartettsatz
in 1820, an unfinished torso – like the Eighth Symphony
– to what would have been a masterpiece of its genre. Schubert
packs a huge amount of material into the movement’s ten-minute
span, producing a work as inspired as it is concise. Here, the
ABQ brought much urgency to bear on the work’s opening semiquavers,
but later sacrificed too much of Schubert’s quintessentially
Viennese charm for the sake of structural cohesiveness.
Thankfully, there was plenty of Vienna in the evening’s
other Schubert offering, the epic C major String Quintet. Augmented
by second cellist Heinrich Schiff – with whom the ABQ made
their famous recording of the work for EMI – there was a
great sense of occasion about Monday’s performance, which
was indeed first class and even occasionally great. From the opening
bars, every strand of melody had real individuality whilst being
perfectly incorporated into a seamless whole; the further marvel
of incredible refinement tempered by genuine warmth seemed more
than anything to evoke the world of Vienna as Schubert must have
experienced it. When Isabel Charisius – taking the viola
chair usually reserved for her teacher Thomas Kakuska –
duetted with first cellist Valentin Erben in the opening movement’s
recapitulation, one could almost feel the QEH audience collective
closing their eyes; they remained shut throughout a sublime reading
of the Adagio, surely one of the most beautiful hymns ever set
down on manuscript paper and played here with a stillness that
belied the relatively brisk tempo. The Scherzo, with its fortissimo
drones in both cello parts, can sometimes come across as heavy
and a bit overbearing; here, though, it sounded like a true scherzo,
brimming with wit and character. If the finale didn’t quite
possess the spark that had fired the preceding movements, it nonetheless
had enough vigour and energy to earn the five players a rousing
– and richly deserved – reception at its close.
Tristan Jakob-Hoff