I first encountered Ensemble Villa Musica in a little-known 
        but (in some quarters) highly-regarded recording (Naxos, 8.550388) of 
        the Schubert String Quintet. That version was beautifully played: I remember 
        being challenged by it on account of their mastery of ‘middle-statement’ 
        – nothing overdone, nothing overlooked – which seemed to me to enable 
        them to speak a great truth. Of course taking the centre road can result 
        in blandness, in seeming lack of interest. Alternatively, it can enable 
        the composer’s voice to be heard, unimpeded by any kind of recreative 
        distortions, the like of which ‘big-name’ performers sometimes find difficult 
        to avoid. 
         
        
Like everything else Mozart wrote in G minor, K516 
          is music from heaven. How on earth can mere man pen music of such beauty, 
          such perfection? But is it not also music written by a troubled mind, 
          contemplating heaven? Who can say! I once argued, passionately, but 
          pointlessly, with a talented student of mine who had failed to hear 
          the voice of tragedy in this music: why, even professional musicians 
          and commentators are divided on defining its precise emotional outlook, 
          especially the major key finale! 
        
 
        
I raise this issue (of the ‘meaning’ of this music) 
          because performances vary widely according to the way artists answer 
          (or are inclined to answer) such questions. I must admit that I was, 
          initially, luke-warm in my reaction to this new recording by Ensemble 
          Villa Musica. Why? Because tempi are brisk, imparting an almost breathless 
          urgency to the music, even (comparatively speaking) in the divinely 
          beautiful slow movement. And because dynamic detail and the emotional 
          temperature are deliberately contained. Note that I say ‘deliberately’ 
          contained: I’m sure this is the case, that it’s a conscious decision 
          to state – rather than understate or overstate – and to allow the music 
          to speak for itself. 
        
 
        
The alternative way is to hold back, giving the music 
          more room to breathe, allowing phrases to be shaped more overtly, and 
          highpoints to be underlined more tellingly. While such an approach can 
          in extremis impart a self-pitying Mahlerian quality, it can also, 
          ironically, make the music sound more secure, more decisive, even self-confident 
          – qualities few would ascribe to this fragile music. 
        
 
        
Ensemble Villa Musica impose nothing of themselves 
          on this music: the result is disturbingly restless, but their role is 
          in no way intrusive. And, if the mood of the music is less than certain, 
          who is to say that that is not how Mozart wanted it? Interestingly, 
          this approach makes the G major finale (always a particular problem: 
          is this forced optimism, or merely the other side of the same emotional 
          coin?) less obviously resolute, more fitting, more fulfilling. 
        
 
        
Complete recordings of the Mozart String Quintets usually 
          means the perfect coupling (of the two most sublime and substantial 
          pieces, K515 in G minor and K516 in C major) never comes your way, because 
          the other discs in the series will have much shorter playing times. 
          Never mind: the later D major piece is an undoubted masterpiece, from 
          his last months in this world – elegant and entertaining, despite being 
          contemporary with the valedictory B flat Piano Concerto. However, the 
          experience of hearing K516 is likely to leave you so exhausted, emotionally, 
          that you’ll probably want to have your remote control to hand; or may 
          be you’ll simply assign K593 to another listening session. 
        
 
        
The sound-world of the D major is altogether brighter, 
          its ‘meaning’ anything but mysterious. So, when the cellist poses questions 
          gently to his colleagues (a rising dotted arpeggio, in the slow introduction 
          to the first movement) the answers come easily in the form of a smiling 
          lyrical phrase on the upper instruments. And the Haydn-ish humour of 
          the rondo finale’s playful theme of falling semitones – which some early 
          editions ‘corrected’ – is in sharp contrast to the yearning chromaticism 
          of K516. It’s all lovely stuff, and it’s enchantingly played. 
        
 
        
Much though I admire this disc, it wouldn’t be my first 
          or only choice of G minor: there are others (Grumiaux on Philips 422 
          511-2; the Lindsays on ASV CDDCA 923; or Hausmusik on Virgin VCD 45169-2 
          – probably in that order) who are apparently more involved, and 
          therefore more involving. But I am the first to concede that a more 
          detached account such as Villa Musica’s can, paradoxically, allow 
          us to dig deeper still. With its gorgeous K593, it’s a fine CD, and 
          worth anyone’s money. 
       
 
         
       Peter J Lawson