I have always been
attracted to box sets, and this one
is an extremely enticing prospect. The
Rasumowsky Quartet from Saarbrücken
is named after Beethoven’s famous opus.
Founded in 2001, they are a relatively
new ensemble, although each member has
a depth of experience in chamber music
in all its forms. According to the booklet
notes ‘The basis of the recordings is
namely the not yet completed latest
complete edition by DSCH Publishers
in Moscow, which only takes the autography
into consideration.’ This edition apparently
contains corrections of many details
in comparison with the traditional edition,
which included a number of printing
errors. Maxim Shostakovich, son of the
composer, contributed further corrections
from original sources. The result has
been highly praised by Maxim Shostakovich:
"The new recording of the complete
string quartets of Dimitri Shostakovich
by the Rasumovsky Quartet has made the
very deepest impression on me. The creative
and sensual penetration into the world
of the music of Dimitri Shostakovich,
the individual mastery and the talent
of each of the individual members of
this excellent ensemble allow this recording
to be numbered amongst the best interpretations
ever of the music of my father".
With such plaudits
what else is there to be said! Well,
the recordings are indeed very good,
with close presence for the musicians
and only a measured dose of resonance
from what must be quite a large studio
space. The box and booklet show portraits
of Shostakovich by Gabriel Gilkman.
Gabriel came into contact with Dmitri
via his brother Isaak who was a good
friend of the composer, and publisher
of some of his letters. The artist came
to be regarded as ‘artistically subversive’
and left for the West in 1980, living
in Munich until his death in 2003. The
booklet notes point out some useful
details in the quartets, emphasising
the private, sometimes experimental
nature of these works: putting them
into historical context and relating
them to Shostakovich’s symphonic output.
Musicologists and amateur
notewatchers alike will of course want
to find out what differences the new
edition produce. The booklet reveals
little detail about what corrections
might have been found, but does mention
choice of tempo and tempo relations.
The waltz in the Second Quartet has
indeed been given a bit more of a kick
start, its swifter traversal revealing
a 30 second advantage over the Fitzwilliam
Quartet, who do sound more leaden-treaded
as a result. The Rasumowsky’s reading
has urgency and technical bravura which
contradicts the Con sordino (with
mutes) instruction, which would seem
to indicate a more secretive atmosphere.
The final Allegro of the Ninth
Quartet has similarly been found
to require a far more fleeting tempo,
resulting in some remarkable effects.
The crazy ‘barrel organ’ waltz at 0:50
becomes a surreal jumping music box,
and many of those ‘pesante’ figures
take on an interestingly new line and
rhythmic function.
Take any of the slow
movements and compare timings – you
will find the Rasumowsky Quartet coming
in well under the rope most of the time.
This is part of the revisions mentioned
in the booklet notes: ‘The musicians
have kept strictly to the demands of
the composer, resulting in the slow
movements no longer appearing so heavy
and pathetic.’ Taking that ‘pathetic’
as being based on the true meaning of
the word suggests that we might be losing
some of the pathos for which Shostakovich’s
Quartets are most loved. Looking at
the Adagio of the Third Quartet
and comparing it with another very
recent issue by the Hagen Quartet (DG
00289 477 6146) makes for some interesting
listening. I was moved by the Hagen’s
reading, but the Rasumowsky’s, while
initially seeming more superficial,
has a drama all of its own. There is
an undeniably natural flow here – certainly
less heartrendingly searching, but conveying
an equally convincing but different
message. The Hagen’s version has the
tread of the condemned man, filled with
anguish and painful nostalgia. With
the Rasumowsky Quartet the references
are somehow more classical – it is as
if the spirit of Schubert still moved
between the notes, making the emotion
more one of bittersweet resignation
while holding the potential for hope.
Turning to the Eighth
Quartet, which is arguably one big
Adagio with a few bumps in between,
the Hagen Quartet have us in an icy
grip right from the start. Their passion
and intensity has the look of the Ancient
Mariner, leaving the listener in no
doubt as to the true meaning of tragedy
and suffering. The opening of that nightmarish
fourth Largo is more like punches
to the stomach with the Rasumowsky Quartet.
There is intensity in the playing, which
winds like stabbing gusts of wind toward
the still, quiet chorale – a very effective
contrast indeed. I can’t say I’m utterly
convinced - yet, but neither can I say
this was not what Shostakovich
intended. The final Largo emphasises
the lyrical nature of the themes, and
the contrapuntal voices convey almost
a madrigal sense of yearning and secretive
love, extinguished, but like a freshly
stubbed cigarette, still with some wisps
of smoke rising in a gently defiant
column against the heavy wooden panels
of some dark, intimidating office. The
Hagen Quartet phrase this in a more
overtly tear-jerking way, leaning on
the dissonant notes, restricting vibrato,
almost subjugating the voices in order
to create more unity. This is still
the version which messes most with my
follicles and keeps my extremities tingling
in the deep dark of night, and I can’t
imagine Shostakovich saying ‘it’s all
wrong!’ Let’s face it, these are versions
which are going to have to live side
by side, agreeing to disagree.
I’m willing to be shot
down in flames, but as a composer I
know from experience how infrequent
it is that original tempo indications
are strictly maintained in performance.
I’m not suggesting that Shostakovich
would have made bad judgements, but
pieces have a way of settling into natural
tempi which often deviate from the heat
of the moment in which they were written
down. There is also the Fitzwilliam
phenomenon – a quartet which actually
worked with Shostakovich and had his
approval, their recordings a literal
record of the results of this collaboration.
It is of course true that all new information
and evidence will add depth and value
to interpretations in the future, but
it is also possible that overly Urtext
nit-picking can lead to intellectual
cul-de-sacs. Arguably, elements of such
an approach could even be turning the
clock back – always making the (not
necessarily correct) assumption that
certain tempo indications are in fact
revisions rather than corrections.
It is interesting to compare dates of
composition with those of publishing.
As far as I can see, many of the early
quartets were published as late as the
early 1960’s (based on the Musica Rara
– London scores, there is also the Anglo-Soviet
Music Press Ltd. to which I didn’t have
access), which provides plenty of time
either for second thoughts, or for the
inexact science of performing habits
to creep in to the published version.
In any case, this set is not a signal
for us to dump all of our favourite
quartet CDs – the differences are noticeable
and sometimes telling, but not extreme
and, I feel, not definitive. I shall
however be interested to hear if we
are entering an era of swifter Shostakovich
Adagios, and in seeing what real musicologists
make of all this!
Seeing as these recordings
are based on new editions, and in a
spirit of research, I have copied the
timings table from Paul Shoemaker’s
review of the Rubio Quartet set on Brilliant
Classics and added those of the Rasumowsky.
I don’t remember being that impressed
by the Rubio Quartet and soon gave that
set away, but for the price one shouldn’t
complain.
Nº
|
key
|
Op.
|
Year |
mvts
|
Rubio
|
Borodin
I
|
Borodin
II
|
Fitzwilliam
|
Manhattan
|
Rasumowsky
|
1
|
C
|
49
|
1938
|
4
|
13.55
|
13.50
|
14.15
|
15.23
|
14.46
|
14:56
|
2
|
A
|
68
|
1944
|
4
|
35.42
|
35.55
|
38.01
|
35.44
|
34.38
|
33:09
|
3
|
F
|
73
|
1946
|
5
|
31.56
|
32.45
|
33.33
|
31.30
|
28.39
|
29:21
|
4
|
D
|
83
|
1949
|
4
|
25.37
|
24.55
|
25.07
|
25.44
|
25.37
|
25:03
|
5
|
Bb
|
92
|
1952
|
3
|
31.50
|
29.25
|
31.37
|
30.56
|
32.58
|
31:00
|
6
|
G
|
101
|
1956
|
4
|
25.19
|
24.40
|
24.14
|
26.40
|
24.34
|
22:05
|
7
|
f#
|
108
|
1960
|
3
|
13.12
|
11.50
|
12.29
|
12.44
|
12.40
|
12:13
|
8
|
c
|
110
|
1960
|
5
|
20.18
|
20.50
|
21.50
|
20.43
|
20.26
|
20:31
|
9
|
Eb
|
117
|
1964
|
5
|
26.07
|
28.25
|
26.51
|
27.13
|
25.17
|
26:10
|
10
|
Ab
|
118
|
1964
|
4
|
24.09
|
23.40
|
24.11
|
22.53
|
23.33
|
23:38
|
11
|
f
|
122
|
1966
|
7
|
16.53
|
16.50
|
15.16
|
16.03
|
16.35
|
16:36
|
12
|
Db
|
133
|
1968
|
2
|
27.10
|
-
|
27.25
|
27.40
|
26.12
|
26:11
|
13
|
bb
|
138
|
1970
|
1
|
20.44
|
-
|
19.56
|
19.07
|
19.54
|
19:53
|
14
|
F#
|
142
|
1973
|
3
|
28.03
|
-
|
28.15
|
26.30
|
26.57
|
26:34
|
15
|
eb
|
144
|
1974
|
6
|
35.39
|
-
|
36.24
|
34.46
|
35.25
|
28:39
|
The greatest extreme
in difference crops up in the Fifteenth
Quartet, which, going on its content
of six adagios, is less surprising than
it might seem. Seeing as the Fitzwilliam
Quartet worked with Shostakovich on
this one I have taken their recording
as a comparison. Expressive lines and
phrasing hide none of the tragedy in
the Fitzwilliam recording which was
made no more than three years after
the piece was written, and only two
after the death of its composer. The
opening Elegy is a drawn-out
farewell, rooted in Russianness, rich
in the imagery and associations of something
like Dante’s icy hell – or whichever
direction your mind is taken. Skeletons
limp through the weary secco steps
of a waltz in the second Serenade.
Everything is emptiness, sparing and
economical – no great energy left for
the driving rhythms and crowd-pleasing
business of the past. The fifth movement
is a Funeral March, but filled
with elegiac solos like mourners taking
turns to eulogise along the pathway.
The Fitzwilliam Quartet is eloquent
and impassioned, connecting closely
with Shostakovich’s uncompromising message.
Turning to the Rasumowsky Quartet there
is almost immediately less of a feeling
of static timelessness in the Elegy:
lines seem to have a greater sense of
direction and purpose. As with many
of these comparisons, the Rasumowsky
Quartet gains in logical progression
and musical sense what they might loose
in terms of ultimate emotional weight.
Their Elegy is less a barren
landscape, more a gently sung chorale.
The second Serenade movement,
with those remarkable crescendo notes
and stabbing pizzicati doesn’t have
the dynamic force I’ve heard elsewhere,
and the waltz becomes more a wistfully
floating dance – ghosts rather than
rattling bones. The Nocturne starts
beautifully, but is marred a little
by some little intonation question marks,
although I do love the Rasumowski’s
subdued con sordino tone, which
sometimes seems to ring like distant
bells from the top of the valley – Bible
Black. The Funeral March, as
by now expected, has less of the heavy
tread of the many, more the formal,
upright symbolism of professional pall-bearers
who, unlike the desperate mourners of
the Fitzwilliam’s, discuss and deplore
the wasted life of a colleague.
This is an interesting
and worthwhile set. While it is most
certainly well recorded and performed
I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that
this is one Shostakovich set which might
almost serve as pleasant background
music. There were few, if any moments
when I felt the grip of fear at one’s
throat, the hot iron breath of danger
on one’s back. This is not to say that
the Rasumowsky Quartet play without
commitment and intensity, but the fiendish
demons and sprites were never hanging
from my coat tail – they always seemed
to be just around the corner, sneaking
a quick fag. There are also some tuning
issues I have as well. It’s rarely at
the ‘ouch’ level, but for me there were
many crucial moments robbed of their
full impact because of something just
a fraction too low or too high somewhere
in the mix. If you doubt my ears, search
for that triumphant return of the main
theme in the fourth Allegretto movement
of the Tenth Quartet (it comes
in at around 5:43 – oh, oh dear…). However,
even if you love your Emerson, Borodin,
Fitzwilliam of Brodsky set, you can
always claim to your other half that
this is an essential purchase – sourced
as it is from a revised and corrected
edition. As such it will sit happily
alongside your favourite box, providing
some fascinating alternative views on
music you might have though to be set
in stone.
Dominy Clements