This
is very much a Czech production. Alfred Strejček’s expressive
but gravely tones (what in the actor’s trade might be described
as a ‘charcoal’ voice) set the tone from the outset, but
with only the very lightest smattering of the language at
my disposal I can understand how this might be a little unnerving
to many listeners outside the Czech republic. On the babbling
radio Czech can sound more like a strange kind of Italian,
but with Strejček’s earnest projection the uninitiated
might find themselves imagining the piece being narrated
by a Klingon warrior. Alfred Strejček’s contribution
should not however be underestimated. He has written the Oratio texts
himself, basing them on the Gospel themes and those of the
poet Jaroslav Durych. These are translated in the booklet
into German, English and Spanish. Following them and absorbing
the meaning and weight of the words is no more onerous than
following the libretto of an opera, so I’ll hear no more
moaning on the subject.
This
work is well represented in the catalogue with different
quartet versions, and the Janáček Quartet has quite
some competition in the Lindsdays for ASV, the Emerson Quartet
for DG and the Fitzwilliam Quartet on Linn to name just a
few. I do, however, find their performance satisfying on
just about every level. The acoustic has an appropriate resonance
without being too awash with churchy echo, intonation is
good, expressive vibrato not overdone, the balance between
the instruments being well rounded and a potent source of
dynamic contrast.
The
original version of this piece was for orchestra, but such
performances are no guarantee of greater variety and interest.
Referring briefly to the Hamburg Soloists with Emil Klein
on Arte Nova I find this quartet recording far richer and
more rewarding. The piece was written for performance in
Holy Week in the Santa Cueva grotto in Cádiz, largely as
a set of interludes to fill the gaps between the Bishop’s
sermons based on the ‘Seven Words.’ With these performances
one has that impression of a ritual, one being commentated
on by both words and music. The Janáček Quartet approaches
the work without sentimentality, and there’s no romantic ‘sexing-up’ of
the music. Haydn himself confessed to the difficulty in sustaining
the requested 10 minutes per Adagio, but to my mind this
commission is the typical ignorance of someone requesting
music with little or no experience of timing. I’m often asked
to play intermezzos for church services, and almost invariably
have to recommend that the ten or even five minute blocks
of music asked for are reduced – two or three minutes usually
being more than adequate unless there’s a long queue for
communion, in which case you just keep going, like an ecclesiastical
busker. Even in Haydn’s day a ten minute adagio would have
seemed excessive, and it wasn’t as if the Bishop had much
to do either; just kneeling in front of the altar waiting
for the musicians to finish. It’s all quite theatrical in
a ritualistic, minimalist kind of way. I find I’ve grown
to love the piece where, as a young man, I had little patience
for it.
The
Janáček Quartet’s performance has all the sensitivity
and sustained drama I can imagine wanting in this work. If
you allow it enough space, the whole gorgeousness of the
thing builds up inside you, which is the transcendental point
after all. Subtle differences on comparison with other versions
will always throw up debate, but where (for instance) the
gorgeous singing melody in Sonata VI emerges I found
myself wondering how I could possibly have rejected it all
before. I suppose I must have grown up at some stage and
not noticed.
Dominy Clements
Alfred Strejček
(narrator) 
for
details
