Johannes BRAHMS (1833-1897)
Piano Quartet No. 1 in G minor, op. 25(1861) [40:06]
Piano Quartet No. 2 in A major, op. 26(1861) [49:05]
Piano Quartet No. 3 in C minor, op. 60 (1855-75) [34:25]
Primrose Piano Quartet
rec. 2018, Ehrbar Saal, Vienna
MERIDIAN CDE84650/1-2 [74:37 + 49:10]
There are special features to these performances of all Brahms’ Piano Quartets by the Primrose Piano Quartet, hereafter PPQ. They use period pianos and gut strings and follow a four-day symposium on historically informed performance practice. Of course, the intention of this is to take us closer to Brahms’ sound world. The challenge, then, is are we ready for it?
The opening theme of Piano Quartet No. 1 is presented calmly and soberly by the PPQ pianist, soon echoed in turn by the strings. Next (CD1, tr. 5, 0:25), it has a second part marked dolce, where the thematic elements overlap and are exchanged by piano and strings so there’s a sense of mutual ownership and support. This is a brief moment of radiance and hope before the first part takes control with grimly focussed progress, though there’s also a determined relish in the interchange between piano and strings when the four-semiquaver clusters kick in from 1:00. Curiously, this results in a kind of burn-out with the opening theme, it would seem almost in variation, going into musing mode (1:27) which is really a transition to the second theme, first presented by viola (1:47), but equally claimed in turn by violin and piano, its breadth and sense of enrichment growing in the process. All this is in turn a transition to the third theme, a kind of more optimistic, firmly expressed perspective on the second theme, marked molto espressivo and in D major (2:50). A wholly new experience is the later presentation in running quavers (3:35), climaxing animato and culminating in a quite hearty, convivial radiance of a more celebratory character than the brief sunlight of the second part of the first theme. It’s followed by a transition back to the first theme of great sensitivity which doubles as a coda to the exposition. The piano’s mellifluous triplets are only gradually and reluctantly abandoned, the strings take on a sighing, mournful mentality and the opening returns in this guise as the development (5:57) with the second part now just as doleful and then a nightmarish exchange of semiquaver clusters. The opening theme appears in fragments echoed by the strings in turn over piano running semiquavers, the strings go into tremolando to break free and then gain some resilience. The effort dies down in exhaustion, but the briefest silence is followed by the recapitulation first of the second part of the first theme restored to radiance. The first part shrieks in defiance but grows more affirmative in its energy, a cue for the second theme to return, but now it has a cello tailpiece (8:53), presented here with eloquent yearning. The running quavers return transformed tranquillo. The PPQ’s coda still has some fight but ends resigned to an irrevocably tragic mode. There’s a lot to absorb in this movement and the PPQ are sensitive and reliable guides.
I compared this with another period instrument performance, by the Australian ensemble Ironwood, hereafter IW, released in 2006 (ABC Classics ABC 4814686). Their CDs, with Brahms’ Piano Quintet as coupling, are titled ‘Brahms: Tones of Romantic Extravagance’, which suggests a certain approach to interpretation. In the opening theme the IW pianist arpeggiates all chords on strong beats which gives the Allegro more swing. Whether it follows the marking espressivo is debatable. The string instruments’ debuts all contain quite marked slides (portamento), albeit selectively applied. These historically informed performance elements are discussed in the PPQ pianist’s booklet notes. They opt for “the unashamedly modern players’ perspective on the refined portamenti of Arnold Rosé, concertmaster of the Vienna Philharmonic from 1881” and “the occasional subtle and unselfconscious asynchronicity” of pianist Olive Bloom in the 1927 recording of the work. In other words, less is more. I haven’t heard her partners, the Spencer Dyke Quartet, in that recording, but here’s a link to
Youtube for their 1926 recording of Elgar’s Piano Quintet and, if you play this a little from 0:42, I can say here’s smoother and subtler portamento than IW’s. The IW violin plays the turn in the final phrase of the strings as in the Breitkopf Sämtliche Werke edition I’m using; the PPQ violin (tr. 5, 0:21) doesn’t. I’m sure the PPE have researched this, but I point it out in case you’re following a score and its absence puzzles you. IW and recent other recordings on modern instruments, Skride Piano Quartet (Orfeo 2019), Le Sage et al (B Records 2018) and Bavakhovsky et al (Naxos 2016) all play the turn. Come the second part of the first theme, the IW pianist continues to arpeggiate the strong beat chords which makes a more luscious texture, though one I find rather tinselly, yet I like the violin’s and viola’s oozing response, even while suspecting this is hedonism where Brahms rather sought simply relief. This manner, however, suits the proceedings well once the four-semiquaver clusters arrive and the second theme appears with breadth and authority. In plain terms, IW’s playing is gutsier than the PPQ’s and the third theme is similarly delivered with more magnanimity. IW’s presentation of the new experience of running quavers begins rather stolidly to achieve more riveting contrast at the animato. You’re left in no doubt this is Brahms’ gypsy streak which resurfaces in the finale. Nevertheless, the transition back to the main theme is handled less delicately than by the PPE. The strings’ sighs are less heartrending than those of the PPQ. IW also makes less of the sad version of the development’s second part of the first theme though the nightmarish semiquaver clusters are vivid. The fragmentation of the theme and tremolando presentation is clear, but the force and exhausting effect of the climax I find less convincing than that of the PPQ. When the second part of the first theme is recapped, so is the IW pianist’s arpeggiation, which for me dilutes the radiance the PPQ convey. On the other hand, IW’s tranquillo return of the running quavers has a more memorable pathos than the more subdued PPQ. Similarly, the expressive lament of the strings thereafter against the piano’s trickling triplets benefits from IW’s portamento. IW make more of the coda’s climax from brooding torment, their close falling sorrowfully away but without the PPQ’s weariness.
The remainder of this work offers gradations of relief. The first, a second movement Intermezzo takes us into the wispy world of muted strings, playfully insubstantial and unthreatening. As the piano’s unmuted repeat of the opening theme can’t be muted, we’re suddenly into cheerful activity. On the other hand, the aim of the careful dynamic markings is that the piano should never be more prominent than the strings, which I feel it is a little here. But there’s also a gain: the PPQ pianist arpeggiates once when the tessitura rises an octave, creating a cock-a-hoop moment of joy as well as a fine example of ‘less is more’. The second theme, introduced by the violin (tr. 6, 0:54) has from the PPQ the quality of relished grouchiness as it rises in tessitura in two sequences, becoming more effusive in its protests. The PPQ’s piano repeat incorporating appoggiaturas seems to poke fun at this, yet when the strings develop a more expanded and affirmative version of this theme, the piano is happy to outdo them in casualness. The Trio sports an animato quixotic, blithely leaping theme in the strings over piano running quavers which becomes more adventurous and ebullient as it progresses from the PPQ, a contented continual striving for something which just remains beyond reach. In the coda the piano adds a salve of ripples, but the whole movement has been a pick-me-up.
The interpretive question regarding this movement is how figmental should the strings be? From the PPQ almost everything is soft and shadowy, more murmur than song, even conspiratorial. The reprise of the themes has a beautiful twilight glint. From IW the strings are more present, which clarifies their dolce ed espressivo marking, though the latter for them means lots of slithering. A gain is the clarity of the tenebrous low cello bass in the strings’ second presentation, though as it’s marked pp against the others’ p it’s strictly clearer than it should be. For me a distraction is lots of piano arpeggiating. However, IW take the second theme more seriously than the PPQ, with deliberation on the strong beats, so I think of it as the effort of a struggle by a challenged individual whose exertion becomes more apparent in a piano repeat that doesn’t mock. So, IW bring more character to the movement, especially with regard to the interplay between strings and piano in the Trio.
The Andante con moto third movement’s opening and main theme has a wonderfully warm-hearted sweep, as if a celebratory summation of what Brahms wished to express in this work. The PPQ’s slide from first to second note is a fine example of refined portamento. It’s a theme which, had Elgar composed it later, he would have marked nobilmente. As in the previous movement, there’s a central animato section. This one is a march (tr. 7, 3:10) and its bright, playful opening with the PPQ piano quite creamy is of the character of the first movement of Brahms second piano quartet. But soon it comes out in ff triumph. This is quintessential Brahms to be played to anyone who thinks he’s mainly dreary. It does dissolve into at first a solemn, then tender return of the opening theme played with appreciable sensitivity by the PPQ. The dark grained coda brings a perspective of recollection and nostalgia: I wonder how Brahms had this at only aged 28.
IW, timing this movement at 8:50 to the PPQ’s 9:15, for me makes it a touch precipitate and gushing. The main theme is marked poco f, which from the PPQ creates a nobility of manner, where IW are closer to a throbbing f. IW’s march skips nicely and its ff version has a strutting grandeur, but the PPQ make the dynamic shading more telling and their smoothness of phrasing and interrelation of the instrumental ‘voices’ is a joy. IW’s coda is bleaker, the PPQ still give its dark grain warmth in its recollection and their final chord is more serene with the piano unarpeggiated.
Where the third movement is a spiritual relief, the very fast ‘Rondo in the Gypsy style’ finale is a physical one. Played with the proper abandon, as the PPQ make a fair fist of, you can dumbfound your friends by playing the piano haring off in the first episode (tr. 8, 0:31) or its continuous tripping in semiquavers in the second episode (1:04) and they might think this is Shostakovich, while the Hungarian flavoured triumphant zest in the third episode (2:34) could be identified as Bartok. This episode begins a sequence of less fast material and in achieving grandeur plus clarity of texture in terms of the relationship between piano and strings the PPQ sacrifice a little in verve. By contrast, the fourth episode (3:27) creates a central interlude with a dance oozing seductiveness that’s unmistakably mid 19thcentury and evokes Vienna even though Brahms had only just got there. Begun by viola and cello, it’s stylishly crowned by the violin’s sweet high tessitura and then dreamily cradled by the piano. This is all exquisitely done by the PPQ. Later all the episodes except the fourth are given more reflective consideration as is the core rhythm of the rondo before a hair-raising very fast coda.
IW’s timing of this movement at 9:26 to the PPQ’s 8:48 makes for a weightier, more emphatic, folksy presentation, more sonorous but rather deliberate. Those piano semiquavers are cooler, not rippling like the PPQ’s. The problem with a slower start is the less fast material isn’t as contrasted in tempo, though the third episode comes across powerfully. IW’s dance episode is more sober and less sweet than the PPQ’s. Ultimately both these period instrument recordings are a touch lacking in abandon. This is to be found in the modern instrument Schubert Ensemble, hereafter SE, recorded in 1996 (Nimbus Alliance NI6279) with a timing of 8:39 and streaking along more electrifyingly, with the dance episode very much a point of repose. I use the SE as a comparison in the other piano quartets.
Brahms’ second piano quartet bears a similar relationship to the first as his second symphony does to his first. The first work is striking for earnest endeavour, expression not easily achieved, while the second from the outset is calm and assurance. From the PPQ the warmly reflective opening theme, an oscillating six-note figure, stasis, followed by the quiet momentum of a more spacious rising and falling four-note figure benignly stalks the first movement. Yet immediately the cello’s first six-note phrase, oscillating and then descending, is like a comforting arm put around the traveller while the piano’s expansion of this opens up a landscape of idyllic musing and enjoyed exploration. With this display of lyricism and smooth blending of piano and strings you think of Schubert. But Brahms being Brahms, soon that core opening theme asserts its pride of ownership in fiery proclamation. The second theme (CD2, tr. 1, 1:39), first heard from the piano, sounds a natural yet fervent outpouring developed from the first theme and preferring thereafter to dwell on selective elements for rumination with the strings in a secretive, intimate mode. This has become delightfully amorphous, but as a codetta to the exposition the strings introduce a dainty little dance (3:25) which the piano’s grazioso repeat takes heavenwards. The development takes the core theme into alien, raw and biting territory with the piano climaxing appassionato (9:47) in which I feel the PPQ might have been a touch more distraught, but we get the message. The core theme’s recapitulation emerges in bass register and its progress is tougher but you feel it’s set in steel. Yet the second theme, on violin and cello this time, has grown gentler and sweeter while the PPQ strings’ manner in it seems more wistful. The codetta dance has become less contained, more searching in its piano repeat. A cool standing back to examine the opening motif is a surprisingly satisfying way of riding out the movement because the pace is right.
My comparison now turns to the SE and how different is a modern instrument recording, that made in 1998 for Nimbus Alliance, from the PPQ’s period instruments. The SE piano’s opening is sterner and less smooth, but the SE’s fiery proclamation of the core theme is more powerful. Their second theme is airier, more skipping and also visionary, this may be owing to the use of modern instruments. The SE’s presentation of the close of the exposition coheres better, the codetta dance gentler from the outset. They bring more overt drama to the development and the piano’s appassionato is more defined. Their recapitulation does appear as a new journey but the PPQ display its different aspects more clearly. The SE’s codetta dance is now demurer and more stylish while they find nostalgia in the coda’s attention to the core theme, an affectionate, lingering farewell rather than the PPQ’s dispassionate approach which nevertheless has its own charm.
The slow movement, Poco Adagio, begins as a nocturne with muted strings. Its opening theme in E major, marked espressivo e dolce, is exactly that from the PPQ pianist, played with poise and yet also a touch of distance that satisfyingly closed the first movement. Piano espressivo also leads with the second theme in B minor (tr. 2, 3:01), passionate and turbulent. The strings respond with a lament but in B major (3:53), a pleading in sequences which has an icily stark and yet also gleaming optimism, inspiring the piano to a soothing, lyrical ‘arioso’ which gets us back to the opening theme, this time from the strings, largely violin and cello, unmuted and thereby with greater, albeit more autumnal, warmth. Now the original progress is repeated with a twist. The second theme returns in F minor (7:05) now delivered by the strings, the detail more writhing and gruesome, so the return to the first theme and E major (8:11) is all the more luminous, with highly decorated fragments of the theme featuring the strings in turn rather than a formal presentation. For the wistful coda the strings are muted again.
So how different is the impression from the SE’s modern instruments? The piano’s opening theme is less smooth though very distinct. The dramatic passage between first and second theme is more ominous. The arrival of the second theme is more startling and the strings’ accompaniment more of a presence. The lament is equally fragile and more human, but the piano’s ‘arioso’ is for me too bouncy. In the reprise of the first theme I think the piano is too present. The second theme return’s strings are less desolate than the PPQ’s but the SE’s fragments of the first theme’s final return are better defined than those of the PPQ, as in the coda is the first violin’s delicate trills and rising demisemiquavers. The mood of the SE’s coda is one of contentment rather than the PPQ’s wistfulness.
The Scherzo third movement begins sunny and genial in mellow meandering, but the second theme (tr. 3, 0:36) strides forward and soon, with a partnership between strings and piano much in evidence, this becomes a companionable piece. The magic about it and the PPQ performance is that everything sounds more smiling and assured in the repeat, the second theme beaming in its progress. This is a ‘symphonic’ Scherzo with a development section (2:00): what was earlier a charming six-note rising figure starts the piano off on a storm, but that opening theme becomes the means of a rescue by viola and cello, its recapitulation, so in turn the viola can showcase espressivo the second theme, its recap, now more homely and soon the first theme returns now more intimate, high in the violin and viola register and you’re convinced second and first themes can be companions. The Trio (4:51) is more like a parallel than contrasting element. It opens with a thunderous descending phrase from the piano and A major has turned to D minor. The strings echo the piano’s vehemence. But in its soft second theme (5:14) the strings lead the piano. It’s a march, as in the first quartet third movement, but this one is rather a pastiche of a march, always treated gently and using the same rhythm as the Scherzo opening theme. It too is developed before the Trio first theme returns in D major (6:55).
The SE performance is only slightly faster, 11:06 against the PPQ’s 11:32, but it seems to me more robustly thrust forward, an admirably fluent account but with the contrast between first and second themes less distinctive than with the PPQ and with the moments of reflection less defined. The SE’s Trio is striking and strong, less fiery than the PPQ’s, though this seems to me a valid approach as Brahms may simply have wanted a lively contrast. However, the SE’s modulation to D major is for me more triumphant. The balance between piano and strings is better in the SE recording, in the PPQ one for me the piano is more vivid than the strings, though this is quite possibly a characteristic of the respective period instruments.
The first impression of the finale in the PPQ’s performance is of a main theme of sturdy vigour, with the cello more noticeable than the doubling violin, and becoming dazzling only when the piano takes it up with added appoggiaturas and we’re fully in gypsy mode, if not quite as unbuttoned as in the first quartet’s finale. This one sounds it might be a rondo but isn’t as there are transitional passages of pleasantly drifting musing (the first at tr. 4, 0:39) rather than episodes. The second theme, first presented by violin and cello an octave apart (1:41) starts like something between musing and a theme, but again becomes bolder and more enterprising once taken up by the piano. In the third theme (2:54) the piano sits at first quite regally over the strings’ accompaniment but the tone is more domestic, especially when the strings take over the presentation and converts into a long chain of dreamy, sweetly savoured descents. Here Brahms is careful to maintain the running crotchets in the cello in a theme which initially balanced a phrase of two semibreves with one of two sets of four crotchets, because it’s only those crotchets taken up by the piano and all the strings that launch us back into the main theme. When this is later repeated in A minor (5:02) you realize, as in the previous movement, here’s a development section. Heady stuff this, though rather gruelling in its repetition, so how welcome is the calm-down to just the basic syncopation softly on the piano and light running quavers in the strings. This converts into a rhapsodic transition then we’re back to the gypsy romp which serves as a brief recapitulation before a stricter one of the second and third themes whose slightly fuller scoring is arguably beneficial. What is certainly that is the barer scoring of a piano marked tranquillo overlayered by the dolce violin in crotchets in triplets within which the main theme can be discerned (9:18), gorgeously realized by the PPQ before the animato coda which returns us wholeheartedly to the gypsy territory which with hindsight we welcome more.
The SE, timing the finale at 10:06 to the PPQ’s 11:11, have for me the advantage in presenting it as a seamless progression, so you’re less aware of the transitions for themselves but as differently coloured phases within the whole. The SE opening is lighter and jollier, where the PPQ throw their weight about. How much weight, how much of the folk influence, do you want? The SE offers a celebration whereas the PPQ give a display of athleticism. The SE’s second theme sounds just a cool contrast, the third a more refined one and with a more tender nostalgia towards its close. In the emphasis on progression the A minor presentation of the main theme remains hearty and the following calm-down svelte without either appearing as distinctive as from the PPQ. On the other hand, with the SE I do feel the recaps of the second and third themes are more satisfyingly luxuriant. The SE and the PPQ are equally vivid in the tranquillo piano and dolce violin passage, the SE’s beautifully balanced and the violin a touch sweeter. With the SE you feel this is Brahms’ artistic fusion of the whole, whereas with the PPQ you’re given insights into the pains within its construction.
I place the third quartet in order of its numbering and completion. The PPQ place it with regard to its conception, Brahms having worked on the first movement and Scherzo from 1855, but it started life in C sharp minor and Brahms destroyed the original version. Of course, you can play this CD in whatever order you like, but to start with this quartet is like pouring a bucket of ice over yourself. Stark C minor piano chords are followed by mourning, sepulchral chromatic passages for strings, the piano injecting the venom, the strings whirling around in agitation. And a repeated descending two-note motif and answering phrase emerges emphatically from the piano from this introduction as a first theme (CD1, tr. 1, 1:05). This is a late, vivid example of Sturm und Drang in music. Only with a tranquillo passage of billowing semiquavers (1:38) does the miasma lighten as preparation for the second theme (2:12), a melody at last, in E flat major. This was the only part of this movement that for Clara Schumann had the ‘freshness’ she found in the other movements. The theme has sometimes been called Schubertian, you mightn’t think so from its first, rather pallid appearance, but give it time. What it does have from the PPQ is considerable fervour in working through its dejection and a commentary from the strings (3:26) with Schubert’s pathos. Over a bed of staccato crotchets in the piano the first theme sighs softly in the upper strings but before long it’s declaimed in a fortissimo tutti marcato passage, another of those moments in these quartets of Brahms the magnificent, in this case in revealing the passion of his situation. Later the viola softly introduces a variant of the second theme (5:40), a troubled foretaste of its roseate recapitulation also from the viola (7:14) with the theme subject to continuing variation. A sunny transformation here to stay? No: the strings’ mourning passages are recalled to grow more writhing and burst into an animato coda. Nevertheless, this ends espressivo in the kind of acceptance of tragedy found at the end of the first quartet’s first movement.
The SE recorded this work in 1997 for Nimbus Alliance. Timing this movement at 10:56 to the PPQ’s 10:25 their slightly greater breadth makes the opening more solemnly crafted, more analysed than the anguished experiential approach of the PPQ. They are more comfortable to listen to but their louder passages, while sonorous, have less visceral impact. The knock-on effect of this is that their second theme, while more warmly treated, doesn’t come with the relief of that of the PPQ. On the other hand, their Schubertian pathos is more sweetly delivered. Their second theme recap is affectingly gentler, but the PPQ’s presentation is more affectionate.
The three loud piano chords which open the second movement Scherzo will shock you again. This is by far the shortest movement in the three piano quartets. The piano is like a frenetically dashing horse, briefly restrained by absorbing becalming chords in the strings, but soon pretty much frothing at the mouth. Then an oddball Trio (tr. 2, 1:21) where legato piano quavers matched with espressivo violin and viola dotted crotchets offer at first a dream-like respite before swelling and ebbing. The journey retains its relentless progress in less manic fashion because trying to focus on the quest and anxiety that’s the reason for the momentum. So, this ‘Trio’ feigns a contrast which is no contrast. The focus shifts to the momentum (2:04) as a transitional passage to the recap shows whatever bug creates it in the piano gradually regaining control. From the PPQ this is excitingly and also harrowingly unbridled.
The SE’s Scherzo is cleanly articulated and lively but doesn’t have the impact of the PPQ’s. They get across the idea of a scherzo always being fun, even in the becalming chords which thereby seem more a smiling display of chic. There’s also a smile in the Trio which is airier than that of the PPQ, making its feigned contrast more convincing. The SE’s transition to the recap and recap itself are neat and polished but they don’t scare me as the PPQ do.
The Andante slow movement is memorable as a landscape of nostalgic musing, an expansive arioso first presented by the cello, then passed to the violin with the cello providing comely counterpoint. Before long, sweet clusters of reflective descents are shared by the strings. The danger then of treading water is avoided by a soft, exploratory phase (from tr. 3, 2:29), very sweet and rarefied whose resultant musings are in turn hurled into a brief, more troubled development. When the piano gets the arioso at the recapitulation (5:27), its more chaste tone from the PPQ offers objective consideration instead of savouring, yet makes a satisfyingly calming transition after which the arioso can be restored to its former eloquence by a hitherto unexplored outing for it on the viola. A closing delight is the ethereal quality of the coda (7:41), all instruments in high altitude with the final affectionate recalls from cello and piano descents. Like Brahms here, the PPQ manage to be luscious, on the fringe of sentimentality, yet also exquisite.
The SE, timing this movement at 9:33 to the PPQ’s 8:49, make the arioso more considered, an approach which suits better the sweet clusters later. Their recap begins in rather chintzy fashion but then, come the viola solo, turns mellow. On the whole the SE makes the movement a serenade, but there’s more to it than that as the PPQ show. Their more flowing tempo lets you grasp the arioso’s expanse more easily.
While the finales of Brahms’ Piano Quartets 1 and 2 are of a festive fire, that in Quartet 3 is of angst. The violin’s opening melody is of the nature of a quiet plea yet the movement progresses to a resolution. In formulating it Brahms seems to have been inspired by Mendelssohn’s Piano Trio 2, also in C minor. The juxtaposition of Mendelssohn’s eight-note sequential piano accompanying figure beneath his violin melody is used by Brahms, though not in exact quotation. Brahms has a more sweeping second theme (tr. 4, 1:13), something of a mirror image of the first, less melodious but more determined and hitting a bigger climax. After this is vehemently reached by the PPQ, Brahms finds relief in a chorale-like third theme (1:40), as does Mendelssohn mid-movement, but again these aren’t identical and both seem to allude to, rather than quote a specific chorale. Brahms’ treatment of the ‘chorale’ which first appears in the strings is initially more shadowy, hiding its potential until much later the piano takes it up as a triumphant, but from the PPQ and fittingly in the context of their performance soberly triumphant, apotheosis (9:01). Hitherto, from the piano’s opening notes, even before the ‘Mendelssohn figure’, the possibility of overcoming suffering is signalled by the use of Beethoven’s ‘fate motif’, the first four notes of his Fifth Symphony, also in C minor, with Brahms’ fourth note a rise rather than Beethoven’s fall. This motif pops up often in the piano part and occasionally in the strings. Brahms, like Beethoven, ends in an emphatic C major, yet in Brahms’ case the coda, despite its tranquillo marking, suggests a latent anxiety in the PPQ’s sober demeanour.
This finale is delivered with an admirable sense of purpose by the PPQ. In the opening the violin is sweeter and the piano a smoother leggiero than the SE’s, but the latter’s loud passages are gutsier and more incisive. The SE’s second theme is more passionate but the third less mysterious than the PPQ’s. I prefer the SE’s more grandiose piano for the climax of the third theme. This reminds me of a similar theme’s treatment by the organ in the finale of Saint-Saëns’ Organ Symphony. The SE coda is delicate but remains sunny.
To return to my opening question, are we ready for the PPQ’s closer trip to Brahms’ sound world? I have mixed feelings. The pianos are a revelation
(Streicher (1), Blüthner (2), Ehrbar (3)): more glowing and luminous tone for this music than their modern counterparts. The string parts are approached with sensitivity and fastidiousness, but I have noted times when I’d have appreciated a fuller sonority. Probably appreciation of their greater delicacy is a learning curve as more such recordings are issued. The Meridian CDs are ‘A Natural Sound Recording’ which I infer means no attempt has been made to ‘create’ a clean balance between the instruments; the Nimbus Alliance recording creates the balance we are used to in recordings.
The cover photograph of Brahms, uncredited in the Meridian booklet, is dated about 1853 in internet appearances, two years before his earliest work on a piano quartet. He looks gaunter in the photographs contemporary with the quartets’ completion, but it’s good to have this one with a trace of a smile as well as a clear intensity beneath it, not a bad epitome of much of his music. If the colouring of the cravat is original(?), it would be hand colouring: the first colour photo is dated 1861.
Michael Greenhalgh
