The Fine Arts Quartet was founded in Chicago in 1946.
Leonard Sorkin, first violin, and George Sopkin, cello, remained constant
but the inner chairs changed over the years, second violin Joseph Stepansky
giving way to Abram Loft – also internationally known for his treatise
on the violin sonata literature – in 1954. Bernard Zaslav, the violist,
replaced the previous chronological trio of Shepard Lehnhoff, Irving
Ilmer and Gerald Stanick. This set of the Beethoven Quartets - perhaps
their most enduring discographic legacy – finds them in a transitional
period in the late 1960s when the necessities of recording dates meant
that both Stanwick and Ilmer took part; Stanwick recorded the Razumovsky
Quartets, Opp 74, 95 and Op 18 Nos 1,2,5 and 6 – and Ilmer the rest.
Whatever the respective line up may have been the Fine
Arts maintained an admirable sense of discipline, tonal blend and homogeneity
of sound. They were also adventurous in repertoire. Whilst collectors
will be well acquainted with the core repertoire traversals, such as
the Brahms Clarinet Quintet with Reginald Kell, they may be less so
with the contemporary literature that the Quartet did a great deal to
promote – Babbitt, Wuorinen, Shifrin and Crawford amongst others. The
Fine Arts were also dedicated teachers; originally resident quartet
of the American Broadcasting Company in Chicago they began a concentrated
series of chamber concerts in the city in 1961. A growing reputation
led to recordings and international tours and like so many groups they
became attached to the faculty of a University – in their case the University
of Wisconsin, in 1963. It was in 1969 that they embarked on the complete
Beethoven Quartets after a steady decade’s worth of increasingly successful
music making. The Everest set – all three boxes that constitute it are
available separately – has been re-released using 20 bit digital sound.
The Fine Arts were never as well known as they should have been and
the set gives us the opportunity to evaluate their strengths and weaknesses
in this most exacting of repertoire.
The Op 18 quartets are consistently convincing. No
1 is leisurely and lyrical with a liltingly tender and affectionate
Adagio, though one never suffused with too much maudlin sentiment. The
concluding allegro is fluent and precise with intelligent application
of suitably light bow pressure when necessary. The G Major, No 2, begins
with fluid amiability; the rustic episode is especially well brought
off and equally so the hymn-like simplicity of the slow movement. The
scherzo is sprightly whilst the finale picks up the emotional temperature
of the scherzo with seamless aplomb. The Fine Arts are adept at crisp
– but scaled – exchanges, as in the opening of the Third of the set.
They take an animated tempo for the slow movement properly observant
of the con moto marking, but not as quickly as the 1953 Hungarian
Quartet’s traversal. In the finale they outpace the Hungarians and this
is a real presto – fluently witty with some rollicking cello lines and
an excellent deadpan ending. The Fourth opens with some duetting between
violins – real consonance of tonal qualities is a hallmark of the Quartet
– and then between viola and cello. They are certainly not averse to
trenchant attacks and rightly so and take a mobile view of the scherzo;
andante movement. Contrastive material is effortlessly integrated
with unsentimental distinction and they give life to the charmingly
rhythmic motif embedded in the movement. Elegance is the hallmark of
their finale as is the easy familiarity of the opening of the Fifth
of the set. Lines are built with sensitive attention to detail in the
slow movement – they are alive to the sensitive pointing as much as
to the stomping buoyancy of Beethoven’s writing. Solid rhythm underpins
the vivacity of their attacking allegro. In the last of the six they
are careful not to set out at an over strident tempo whilst still observing
the con brio indication. They bring a touching simplicity to
the adagio, are vigorous in the scherzo and shape with
discernment the shifting harmonies of the finale, balancing and distributing
weight with sure understanding.
The middle period quartets, Opp 59, 74 and 95 feature
the Sorkin-Loft-Stanick-Sopkin line up. Clarity, homogeneity and projection
of mood in proportion to the musical material are some of the more obvious
characteristics of their playing. Their chosen tempi are often flowing
– though not unduly so and seldom sound rushed. And in Op 59 No 1 they
are in command, at a well-chosen tempo, of the ebb and flow of the musical
argument of the first movement. Their playfulness in the second contrasts
well with the affecting exchanges in the succeeding adagio molto
e mesto where the passage from 6’02 is tender and lyrical; one feels
as well that they invariably take a long term structural view because
they link material that other quartets tend to project as rhetorically
oppositional. The finale builds up a head of steam based on a good tempo
and sensitive dynamics – nothing outlandish or tonally over expressive.
The great F Major is attractive without quite becoming outstanding.
Again their speeds are consonant and musical. In the allegretto they
are elegant and in the slow movement take 11’07 as against the Hungarian
Quartet’s 11’24 and, most touching of all these, the 1960 Budapest who
take a wonderfully lingering 13’58. Nevertheless once again the Fine
Arts sound unhurried here even if one may feel Leonard Sorkin fractionally
too animated. Quicksilver articulation animates the finale, as the four
build a real momentum. The Third of the Op 59 is another good performance
– fluent, technically adroit, alive to the dance, with well-weighted
pizzicati from Sopkin, a sunny Minuet and clearly delineated
fugal entries in the finale – spick and span without over decorousness
and a satisfyingly lean tonal blend. The Harp Quartet, Op 74, is considerably
fleeter than the 1950 Hungarians and features one of Sorkin’s rare but
attractive quick slides. Throughout the articulation is excellent, the
slow movement projected with simplicity, the songful joy that breaks
out in the third movement Presto
handled with delicacy and care. The Op 95, the Serioso,
displays the delicacy and finesse of vibrato usage of all four musicians;
Stanick shines in the Allegretto and he displays a lean well-centred
tone. There is always forward momentum in the Fine Arts’ performances
but not the blistering, breathless kind. It’s rather to do with their
rhythmic subtlety – there is drama within musical constraints, perfectly
exemplified by the Allegro assai of Op 95. The flourishing end
to the quartet is accompanied by graded dynamics, observed with an acumen
we have now come to expect.
The last quartets are the greatest test of course.
Their opening of Op 127 is certainly not as stentorian as others can
be and they prefer pliancy and equalized playing. At quite a slow tempo,
well sustained, without exaggeration they build the adagio. This
is clear-eyed playing with tremendous clarity in the first and second
violin lines. They choose a rather better tempo than the 1953 Hungarians
for the scherzando vivace emphasising the dance rhythms with
rhythmic finesse and the Finale is comprehensively persuasive. They
take a temperate view of Op 131 as a whole valuing a degree of objectivity
but not at the expense of feeling. Maybe the presto isn’t quite
as fleet as the Hungarians, who shave half a minute off the Fine Arts’
three but with clarity of articulation like this the tempos generally
seem right. The slow movement is very slow. They take 15’30 as against
the Hungarians’ 11’56 and the wartime Budapest 12’56; even the 1930s
Lenér Quartet take only 13’10 and they weren’t necessarily famed
for fast tempi in the last quartets. Nevertheless the Fine Arts are
entirely convincing in their own way; they shape and phrase with unimpeachable
logic. They are amusing in the Finale, where some perfumed – I think
too perfumed – phrasing contrasts with more abrasive playing.
Integration of disparate – or seemingly disparate
– elements is a feature of the Fine Arts in these last quartets. Well
modulated playing informs Op 130. I liked Sorkin’s very eloquently phrased
playing in the slow movement as well as the filigree passagework and
sensible, flowing tempo as I did the charming lilt and delicious weight
of tone the four bring to the Allegro assai. The great Cavatina
is played not so slowly that any fracturing of the line takes place
nor so quickly that the inner structure and logic of its playing preclude
beauty and expressivity. Wholly successful. Their finale is sensible
and effective and quietly cognizant of the mischievousness of the writing.
The Grosse Fugue takes its place here, at the end of the disc, immediately
following Op 130. It is objective without coldness and doesn’t downplay
the sterner moments of accusatory syntax. It also affords Sorkin the
opportunity to emphasise lyrical passages with one or two succulent
moments. Op 132 opens with intelligent demarcation of attack, its adagio
at a tempo between the rapidity of the 1953 Hungarians and the sublime
indulgence of the 1930s Lenér. Diminuendos are closely observed,
attention to detail is the means by which the full significance of the
movement can best be conveyed, and the humour and reflection of the
movement receive their due. Those looking for the deeper intimacies
may find the Fine Arts somewhat aloof but they lose nothing in a finale
which has more than its share of refinement and leisurely confidence.
Finally Op 135; the opening movement may sound languid when judged against
the Hungarian Quartet and lacking in brutal contrasts but that is not
the Fine Arts’ way. Sorkin lavishes real sensitivity on the passage
at the beginning of the slow movement – at no stage does one feel these
four musicians are point making. Instead the quartet evolves with a
naturalness and logic that impresses one with its far seeing involvement.
There’s been a lot of discographic water under the
bridge with regard to the Beethoven Quartets ever since the Lenér
first committed them all to 78s in the 1930s. The Fine Arts’ distinguished
contribution takes its place once more in the catalogues. Their reluctance
to indulge extremes may disappoint some; others may consider them too
equable; tonally their lean flexibility may not have the outsize opulence
of some of their rivals; heaven storming heights and soul stirring depths
may be the preserve of other, better known quartets; but sometimes,
often, the Fine Arts Quartet is as nourishing and welcome as spring
water and their purity is cool and crisp and clear.
Jonathan Woolf