I’m
progressing backwards in my Grechaninov Quartet odyssey
because I reviewed the second and final volume not long
ago (see review).
Here’s the first volume and as ever a
quick word of praise for the Utrecht Quartet. This foursome
really
understands
the idiom. It has demonstrated on disc before now how capable
they are, in the best sense, in this sort of repertoire
- and they reprise that quality again. They don’t affect
a big Russian sound, nor do they over-vibrate. The sound
is equable, balanced across all four instruments, harmonious
and tonally attractive.
They
simply take the music at face value and employ considerable
sensitivity and intelligence in exploring its attractive
facility. The 1894 Quartet is a big four-movement work
with some arresting moments for the first violin. The warmth
and slightly sweet cloying harmonies of the first movement
recall one of Grechaninov’s musical inspirations, Borodin.
There are also a number of moments - in the cello solo,
in the harmonic and thematic material - that recall Smetana
as well. The slow movement reminds us that he called the
work as a whole “Vera” (his wife’s name) when he sent it
off to a composition competition. Warm and affectionate
it’s rather like a Tchaikovsky miniature. The Scherzo is
lightly Slavic with melodic statements attractively distributed
amongst the instruments and the finale is a grazioso affair,
laced with pizzicati but not especially distinctive.
By
the time of the Op.70 Quartet nearly twenty years had elapsed.
Commentators tend to push a Scriabin connection though
I’ve never really heard one. I do hear a Debussy lineage
though, and in the more exploratory and expressive harmonies
we can measure the increasingly sophisticated palette he
wielded. Even the Scherzo has elements of puckish control
that might remind one of Paris – a certain nonchalant brio
about the pizzicati perhaps or indeed about the themes
themselves. In the slow movement one feels even more those
expressive harmonies and a distinctly vocal melody line
that is unusual in the quartets but entirely reflective
of the composer’s high status as a writer for the voice,
his primary claim to musical fame perhaps. The finale owes
a hint or two to Taneyev in light vein, though it ends
with a sturdy march theme and rounds off an avuncular,
warm and attractive work.
This
volume fully meets the standards of its companion. No-one
could claim any of the four as epoch-shattering quartets
but they are deftly crafted and very enjoyable, presented
with care, precision and sometimes panache by the gifted
Utrecht foursome.
Jonathan Woolf
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