Of the first movement of his Piano Quintet (tr. 1) Elgar wrote ‘It 
            is strange music ... ghostly stuff.’ It has a haunting quality because 
            its themes not only return but expand and transform. The theme heard 
            in fragmentary fashion in the introduction is only fully revealed 
            as the fourth theme at 5:01. Meanwhile there has been a first theme 
            at 1:22, resolute and rather craggy from the Alberni Quartet and Philip 
            Ledger. There’s then a second theme at 2:11, which they present as 
            conscious of its own insubstantiality. The third theme (3:05) they 
            reveal as more ardent, impulsive and insistent despite its salon flavour. 
            Their flow and seamless progression is convincing even if the climax 
            of the development is for me a little lacking in tonal impact. This 
            might be because the clean and clear recording is in a rather dry 
            acoustic. That said, it doesn’t mar an arrestingly fiery recapitulation 
            of the first and second themes before the second is repeated in more 
            cajoling manner. The third theme returns less grand but warmer in 
            articulation. The introduction returns as coda and the haunting continues. 
            Ledger and the Albernis take us on this journey clear-sightedly with 
            an easy-going reflection that can also burst into present passion. 
            For me they have the Elgar idiom just right: there’s an element of 
            reticence amid the emotion. I compared the recording first published 
            in 1985 by the Medici Quartet and John Bingham (Meridian CDE 84502). 
            They more overtly dramatize the music: the second theme is deliciously 
            curvaceous, the third over-milked, but the fourth radiantly calm. 
            Their development has more urgency and excitement though the phrasing 
            is perhaps over-deliberate. The airier Meridian recording is beneficial.
             
            To the glorious slow movement Ledger and the Albernis bring tenderness 
            and an intensely caring quality together with a sufficiently stately 
            flow. Elgar’s Adagio is here no more than Adagietto, 
            timing at 11:12. This makes the musical line satisfyingly clear as 
            is the way one part supports another in turn in the expansive opening 
            theme. There’s also a fine contrast in what is a second section of 
            reflection and commentary rather than a second theme. This is begun 
            with the piano’s 4-note rising figure answered by falling strings 
            before the violin presses on with a new, solemn statement. The opening 
            theme returns in the development with a gnarled nature and then passionate 
            transformation. It reappears in the recapitulation, calm and sunnier 
            than before and now triumphant. You note the delicacy of Ledger’s 
            rising motif at its return. Bingham and the Medicis take this movement 
            Molto Adagio, timing at 13:26. It’s lovingly savoured with 
            every nuance and accent caught and firm, rich lower-string playing. 
            Some sequences have a touch of the mechanical in this distillation 
            and the climax of the development can’t be quite so impetuous. The 
            second section is less contrasted than Ledger/Alberni.
             
            A slide into the first movement introduction to begin the finale (tr. 
            3) is soon dismissed by a theme presented by Ledger/Alberni with a 
            sterling resolution, a kind of epic defiance. The second theme (2:15) 
            is hardly a theme at all but a rising and falling that is almost imperceptibly 
            enlivened by syncopation. The first movement’s fourth theme is re-introduced 
            in a calm but sure flow with a muted first violin sigh at its end 
            and snatches of the first movement third theme. These recollections 
            are handled with a sure delicacy by Ledger/Alberni before a softly 
            opening recapitulation leads to a spirited climax. Bingham/Medici 
            savour this movement a mite more leisurely in tempo and with more 
            deliberate, rhetorical pointing of accents, notably in the second 
            theme. They lack the sheer sweep of Ledger/Alberni but their first 
            movement fourth theme has a benign stateliness which is very alluring. 
            The playing of Bingham/Medici has more beauty of tone and line than 
            Ledger/Alberni but the latter offer more fire and conviction of progression.
             
            Structurally the Dvorák quintet tends towards the conventional but 
            will always be more popular because of the strength of its melodies. 
            In mood it’s just as open to varied interpretation. Ledger and the 
            Albernis adopt an easygoing yet reasonably progressive tempo for the 
            first movement. Its first theme on the cello is mellow, followed by 
            a spirited tutti then more reflection before an airier repeat 
            of the first theme on piano and then first violin. An exciting dance 
            rounds off this section. The second theme is presented by the viola 
            (2:08), with a touch of edge not in the first theme, but defused when 
            it is repeated by first violin and then piano. That edge returns in 
            the recapitulation and is fully developed to a firm climax. This is 
            a hearty performance, but to gauge how idiomatic it is I compared 
            the 1966 recording by the Smetana Quartet with Pavel Štepán (Testament 
            SBT 1074). They have more warmth and finesse in the presentation of 
            the first theme, a closing dance exciting but at the same time disciplined 
            and a wider-eyed development which commands more attention.
             
            The dumka slow movement from Ledger/Alberni (tr. 5) is notable for 
            the delicacy of its piano opening and a wry experience, yet also warmth, 
            in the viola and then first violin commentary. The slightly faster 
            second section (2:28) is rhapsodic - freer. The piano takes over an 
            ambling melody but the strings’ semiquaver accompaniment is full of 
            life as if to stoke the following treatment of the opening melody 
            by all the strings. This is capped by a first violin descant. There’ 
            a heart-rending intensity at this point and it returns at the close. 
            In the mean-time there has been a Vivace (6:02) in which 
            Ledger/Alberni find gypsy abandon. I prefer their account of this 
            movement to that of Štepán/Smetana who begin with dogged endurance 
            and make more of a joyous contrast of the second section but without 
            Ledger/Alberni’s airy relaxation. Their later treatment of the opening 
            melody is clear in texture but rather Spartan in manner while their 
            Vivace section is lighter and of less substance.
             
            The Ledger/Alberni Scherzo (tr. 6) is notable for its kick. It’s taken 
            at an exuberant pace. There’s a real sense of purpose to the second 
            theme on the viola (0:37) and snowy adornments in thirds from the 
            piano. Some edge remains even in their generally smiling and serene 
            Trio. Štepán/Smetana are neater, less fresh in the Scherzo. Their 
            sleepier Trio has more mystery to it. The progress of the finale (tr. 
            7) is addressed with gusto and crisp attack throughout by the Albernis 
            and Ledger’s contributions sparkle. Merriment, exuberance and edge 
            abound, also variety. For instance, the episode (1:18) is graceful 
            at first, then bold and fanfare-like. Štepán/Smetana favour a more 
            controlled manner which brings greater contrast, more mischief in 
            the humour, a rather arch treatment and latterly more calm.
             
            These Ledger/Alberni performances are released in memory of Philip 
            Ledger and honour him in the integrity of the playing. The players 
            blend and complement one another. These accounts don’t aim for beauty 
            of tone and texture, but through experience and character convince 
            you that the music matters. They make a worthy tribute to a fine musician.
             
            Michael Greenhalgh
          see also review by Stephen 
            Greenbank