The Borodin Quartet
has made repeated recorded forays into
these works over the years but I would
still want to draw attention to this
reissue, utilising the original Melodiya
tapes and issued by Korean company Aulos.
They have also released a magnificent
series of Shafran discs – like him or
loathe him he is a magnetic artist.
Their commitment to ensuring that his
legacy is properly perpetuated should
be acknowledged and admired. Their Borodin/Tchaikovsky
double CD set is much less contentious
and the only question to be answered
is whether you prefer their ostensibly
more warm later readings (see the 1993
Teldec). The Aulos recordings are compelling
examples of a perfect balance between
the dictates of stringent architectural
concerns and an emotive generosity that
never for a moment compromises that
spine of construction.
Almost needless to
say, the 1979 D major goes so well.
The sensitivity over matters of dynamics
and corporate diminuendi is palpable
as is the holding in check of glutinous
expression in the slow movement; it
tends to work better this way. Then
again the elegance and drive of the
finale can’t be faulted. Valuable as
this recording is – and there aren’t
many better in the catalogue in terms
of idiomatic understanding, it’s even
more important that the recordings of
the Second and Third Quartets are here.
These two still need advocacy, not least
because the long first and third movements
can sag in less fluent and feeling hands.
With the Borodins the Second, recorded
in 1978, is a taut and pensive work,
opening with heightened expectation
and developing through the fugal passages
with drama and gusto. Kopelman proves
himself a master of shading in his recapitulation
passages in the first movement.
The opening movement
of the Third is considerably longer
even than the Second – the whole work
here lasts some thirty-seven minutes
– but it doesn’t seem so here. The rich
harmonies, the strong first violin role,
the gravity and ensuing folk lilt of
viola and cello are all rapturously
well judged – as indeed is the lyric,
typically introspective close of the
movement. Dynamics are intense in the
slow movement but there sounds to be
an edit at 1.05 in the pizzicato passage
in the finale (the only one I really
noticed). For the Souvenir de Florence
they were joined by the all-star Genrikh
Talalyan (viola) and Mstislav Rostropovich
(cello). The inner voices are notably
well caught and this is a bold, warmly-etched
reading full of communicative generosity
– though the 1965 sound can’t of course
compare with the Teldec where the Borodins
were joined by Yurov and Milman.
There are no English
notes – though there are extensive ones
in Korean – but the set is housed in
a spruce box and has been remastered
in DSD – Direct Stream Direct – a system
that’s extensively described in the
booklet. It sounds finely successful
to me – not edgy or bright, but warm
and subtle.
Jonathan Woolf