It was Mahler who started
the now common practice of performing
string quartets (including Beethoven’s
Op. 95, and Schubert’s Death and
the Maiden) on full orchestral strings.
At the time, composers were challenged
by stretching the boundaries of chamber
ensembles. There’s nothing more contrapuntally
complex than Schoenberg’s Chamber Symphony,
for example! In addition they frequently
broke down vast orchestral forces into
an infinite number of intimate trio,
quartet and quintet combinations - as
in Gurrelieder, for example,
or much of Mahler’s Ninth.
We’ve long since been
accustomed to hearing the Grosse
Fuge on orchestral strings, on the
grounds that - as Beethoven himself
conceded - a string quartet is stretched
to the limit delivering his other-worldly
conception. Toscanini commonly performed
late Beethoven string quartets with
his NBC Orchestra, most especially the
inner movements of Op 135. And both
Previn and Bernstein have followed in
his footsteps. In fact Bernstein’s CD
with the Vienna Philharmonic of Opp.
131 and 135 - complete! - was one of
his favourite recordings. Only a couple
of months ago, of course, Perahia included
an orchestral version of the Op 127
Quartet (with the ECO) on his latest
disc.
Barshai’s done a good
deal of this sort of thing too: his
arrangement of the Shostakovich Eighth
Quartet has very nearly become a repertory
item. In fact there’s a new recording
by Spivakov and the Moscow Virtuosi
just out, including some fascinating
couplings, on Capriccio 67 115. He also
published orchestrations of the Tenth
Quartet, Prokofiev’s Visions fugitives,
and a seldom-heard completion of the
Mahler Tenth sketches. The disc we’re
considering here includes two earlier
Shostakovich quartets. Not that
early, mind you: they were written between
the Ninth and Tenth Symphonies.
Why do conductors want
to put chamber music under the magnifying
glass in this way? It’s interesting
that we often judge an orchestral string
section by the extent to which it is
able to play like a string quartet -
the ultimate accolade for any large
ensemble! And, when a quartet is able
to produce a great weight of sound,
and sustain fortissimo over long
periods - as Beethoven requires in the
Grosse Fuge, for example - we
commend them for their quasi-orchestral
sonority, as if this were one of their
supreme objectives!
And why do composers
insist on channelling some of their
biggest ideas into the smallest number
of instruments? Is it not something
to do with the intimacy of a small ensemble,
and the special conviction with which
the most personal material inevitably
speaks when delivered by a mere handful
of players? If that is so, are we not
doing composers a disservice by zooming
into their innermost ideas in this way,
like paparazzi, and every bit
as unwelcome? Is it not like broadcasting
a secret, breaking a confidence, or
publishing what we know to be private?
In any case, material intended to be
played by a soloist - and all chamber
musicians are soloists - is unlikely
to carry the same ‘vocal’ authority
when multiplied by ‘x’, especially
when, as is so often the case, it requires
the kind of agility and dexterity that
only a soloist can deliver. And there’s
always the problem of what to do with
double basses: not since Mozart have
double basses invariably played cello
parts down the octave!
Maybe I’m overreacting.
And I’m dealing with a general issue
here, not a particular instance. But
we surely owe it to a composer to respect
their wishes and honour their intentions.
As a rule, I don’t care for any
arrangements, whether they ‘work’ or
not. A composer’s music is sacred: we
should leave it in peace!
Fortunately for us,
it seems Shostakovich himself sanctioned
these arrangements - in principle, that
is, but not, so far as I’m aware, these
pieces in particular. So my preamble
is in some ways unnecessary. These versions
of the Third and Fourth Quartet are
different anyway, in that they feature
winds - just flute, oboe, cor anglais,
clarinet and bassoon in Quartet No.
3, plus two horns, trumpet, celesta
and percussion in Quartet No. 4 - as
well as strings.
I mentioned earlier
the habit of Mahler and his followers
of using large ensembles not so much
for the power they can produce in tutti,
but as ‘reservoirs’ or ‘libraries’ containing
endless non-standard chamber music groups.
And the voice of Mahler - so commonly
heard in Shostakovich - is nowhere more
strikingly heard than in the sparse
orchestral textures of which he was
so fond. I suggest that’s one reason
why these arrangements ‘work’ so well.
Barshai seldom alters anything, and
rarely adds octave or even unison doublings
to fill out the texture. So the intimacy
of the original text is preserved, not
least because much of the material remains
in solo voices - albeit wind and brass
as well as strings. At times, it makes
for very odd instrumentation, it is
true, but you have to admit that it’s
no odder than you commonly find in the
‘genuine’ orchestral music. In fact,
parallels can more easily and more frequently
be drawn between the Quartets and Symphonies
when heard in arrangements such as these.
If you don’t know the
Third and Fourth Quartets, don’t hesitate
to try them in this format. They’re
Shostakovich at his most compelling
and characteristic. All too often, I
tend to think, the empty textures Shostakovich
favours hover dangerously near the boundary
of empty thinking. But not so here:
his inspiration is seldom more persuasively
sustained than in these pieces, running
as they do the full range of human emotions.
Shostakovich himself
considered Quartet No. 3, formerly known
as the ‘War Quartet’, one of his most
successful creations. The naïve
irony of the first movement, with its
crazy double fugue, is reminiscent of
the Ninth Symphony. The eccentric waltz
which forms the second movement - using
only the viola(s) as accompaniment!
- recalls the hideous Scherzo of the
Eighth Symphony. But the overarching
mood here is one of sadness, exemplified
in the elegiac fourth movement, with,
on this CD, its beautiful wind solos.
Quartet No. 4 is a
lighter piece, both emotionally and
stylistically, but Barshai’s fuller
orchestration endows it - perhaps misleadingly
- with even more variety and power than
No. 3, most notably the dramatic climax
of the second movement. The opening
bars are pastoral, not unlike Nielsen,
while the third movement’s blatant militarism
- complete with solo trumpet and persistent
drumming - recalls the Leningrad
Symphony. The introspective final movement
has Jewish overtones, suggesting that
the inspiration for the near-contemporary
song cycle From Jewish Poetry
spilled over into this piece.
Such variety! And how
completely those magnificent salesmen
Jean-Jacques Kantorow and the Tapiola
Sinfonietta are able to deliver it!
Their playing is 100% secure, and impressively
poised and polished. Indeed, they play
as if a string quartet: completely at
one. The BIS recording, unsurprisingly,
is wide-ranging and atmospheric, and
the silences are just that - silent.
This is a challenging
and absorbing listening experience.
Strongly recommended.
Peter J Lawson
Tapiola Sinfonietta/Jean-Jacques Kantorow 
