Kolisch
is a name that has been preserved through his eponymous quartet
rather than through his solo performances. Austrian-born in 1896
he was a pupil of Otakar Sevčík at the Vienna Academy and
took composition lessons from Franz Schreker. After war service
Kolisch founded his first quartet in order the better to study
Berg’s Op.3 and, as a leading light in Schoenberg’s Society for
Private Musical Performances, he was coached by Schoenberg who
was later to marry Kolisch’s sister Gertrud. He was also a rarity
among string players, a left-hander, which meant an unusual quartet
layout on stage, Kolisch sitting on the right facing his second
violinist (though occasionally Kolisch and the second violin would
take turns to lead). At the time the quartet was called the ‘Vienna’
and its personnel changed with alarming regularity, often for
somewhat disputatious reasons, but the repertoire was bracingly
modernistic in outlook; Rathaus, Hauer, Hindemith 3, Casella’s
Concerto among them - and they of course essayed the established
classics, Haydn, Mozart and Schubert prominently. In 1927 they
gave the premiere of Berg’s Lyric Suite around the time that,
owing to Schoenberg’s enthusiasm for the idea, they began to play
from memory (as well as learning from scores not parts). From
1928/29 the Vienna became the Kolisch Quartet and it began to
record but circumstances from the early 1930s became increasingly
difficult and despite their emergent European reputation they
permanently decamped for America in 1937.
The
economic realities of the times hit hard and jobs had to be taken
in orchestras and pit bands – Kolisch himself ending up for a
stint in the Broadway Die Fledermaus (also known as Rosalinda,
in the Korngold arrangement). But they still managed to give the
first performance of Bartók’s Sixth, of which they were
the dedicatees, and to make some sporadic recordings before the
final disbanding of the group. Kolisch joined the revamped Pro
Arte Quartet at Wisconsin and he stayed at the university there
until 1967, remaining an admired player, teacher and coach. He
died in 1978.
With
the exception of the Schubert this box in honour of Kolisch collates
twentieth century repertoire if we include the late Romantic 1897
Quartet of Schoenberg whose four numbered works derive from sessions
underwritten by Alfred Newman for private release. There is also
a Pro Arte performance of the Third in 1950 and released on a
Dial LP and the other works here derive either from other Dial
LPs (Lyric Suite, Webern’s Five Movements and Six Bagatelles)
or from private or live performance. The standard of recording
obviously varies widely, as does the quality of performances,
most acutely so as Kolisch’s retirement drew near but these are
never less than significant documents. They are intimately bound
up with a performer, his quartet or subsequent groups of which
he was the guiding spirit, and are profoundly reflective of his
vast commitment to the music of his time.
In
the case of the Schoenberg Violin Concerto – critically generally
prefaced by the adjective "knotty" – we find the violinist
at the age of seventy-one accompanied by the Wisconsin Festival
Orchestra under René Leibowitz. This is in many ways an
admirably paced and acutely interpreted reading of the score but
it’s severely compromised by the sonic limitations of its recording.
The sound is very constricted and Kolisch’s tone, which was already
quite small, is made to seem one-dimensional as a result. But
whilst he comes under considerable pressure his control of the
concerto’s rhetoric is generally unimpaired and in Leibowitz he
had a thinker as well as a musician. The first movement cadenza
is well done, the finely controlled climax of the Andante grazioso
exceptionally well negotiated, Kolisch generating some real brooding
intensity. The finale is wonderfully fluid and fluent though once
more I should point out that not everything is really audible
due to the constriction of sound and the private recording level.
Coupled on this disc is the Bartók solo sonata, about which
Kolisch has some pertinent and revealing things to say in the
eight-minute interview that prefaces it, including his discreet
reference to the unnamed "famous virtuoso violinist"
who championed it (Menuhin). The recording here, made a year earlier
than the Schoenberg, is a giant improvement and very listenable
if brash. As for the performance the technique is fallible, the
tone ungrateful but the conception strong. It’s particularly intriguing
to hear Kolisch’s frantic voicings in the Fuga where he stresses
its sometimes crazed dialogue and his use of the microtones in
the presto finale; he has something to say about Menuhin’s early
excision of them in his interview with Will Ogdon. There’s now
little tonal intensity in his playing and the relatively light
unvarnished playing needs listening through, but there are still
some moving moments. The Webern Opp. 5 and 9 derive from one of
those Dial LPs released in 1950 with the Pro Arte. There’s surface
noise so I assume the masters are no longer intact and transfers
have utilised commercial copies. Most notable is the expressive
concentration they bring to the second movement of the Five Movements
and the intensity of Op.9’s third movement Ziemlich fliessend.
As for the Schubert octet which was recorded in concert in
Washington DC – I assume at the Library of Congress though that’s
not stated – there are some sound constrictions and problems but
we can still appreciate the pliancy and ease of the adagio and
the stately lift they all bring to the Menuetto.
Unfortunately
the Fifth Bartók Quartet suffers from the same kind of
constricted sound – it was recorded in Washington five years later
than the Schubert. One can hear that the Pro Arte catches the
obsessive relentlessness of parts of the opening Allegro and the
considerable drive and animation of the Scherzo. Discmate, the
Schoenberg Phantasy, where Kolisch is joined by pianist Gunnar
Johansen, is let down by intonational and technical problems.
The early Schoenberg Quartet completes this disc and it’s in rather
spread sound albeit not unlistenably so, though it does have the
effect of turning the Pro Arte into a chamber orchestra. I particularly
enjoyed listening to the expressive viola playing of Bernard Milofsky
in this Dvořák-meets-Brahms prentice piece.
The
Pro Arte’s 1950 recording for Dial of the Third Schoenberg Quartet
is a fine complement to the Kolisch’s 1936 private traversal.
Obviously the recording, made for a commercial concern, is better
although there are a few surface scratches. It’s noticeable how
Kolisch has now tightened up the Adagio. The Lyric Suite was premiered,
as I noted above, by the Kolisch. Here the Pro Arte plays it in
1950 and the high point of their playing is the Adagio appassionato,
which is vested with genuinely expressive complexity and nuance,
as is the sense of desolation and grief of the final movement.
Two
of the discs are given over to those 1936-37 recordings of the
Schoenberg Quartets with the composer’s spoken comments (in German)
retained – famously the recording of the Fourth preceded the public
world premiere performance by a day. These have attained some
currency over the years and attest to the group’s profound identification
with the music. If you possess Archiphon’s transfers of these
performances in their double CD set [ARC 103/4] you might welcome
a comparison between the two. Archiphon utilise a considerable
amount of noise reduction with the result that their set is much
less noisy in respect of surface noise but also missing a good
deal of detail, crucially inner part writing. Music & Arts
has retained much more surface noise and more of the frequencies.
Their sound is more immediate and alive and the ear adjusts quickly
as it fails to do with the murkier Archiphon. I’ve never heard
the original discs so this is speculative on my part but I would
wager that Music & Arts’ restoration more accurately reflects
the state of the originals.
The
documentation is splendidly authoritative and comprehensive. I’ve
taken a good deal of biographical information from Tully Potter’s
history of the various groups Kolisch led and there are reprints
from the original LPs concerning the works. This is an important
set that brings a strong focus on Kolisch’s leading place in disseminating
these works. It doesn’t always make for easy listening and is
not for the generalist. For those who appreciate the work of this
notable musician and the repertoire he espoused with such granitic
concentration, one can only salute Music & Arts’ own dedication
and sense of purpose.
Jonathan
Woolf