"Not always comfortable
listening" writes Alan George,
the Fitzwilliam String Quartet viola
player in a fascinating booklet note
arguing the validity of another recording
of Brahms’ Clarinet Quintet. He’s referring
to a line of interpretive tradition
which runs in recent times from Reginald
Kell to his pupil Alan Hacker to his
pupil Leslie Schatzberger recorded here.
It’s a less cosy approach than the late
20th century norm and also
one that takes Brahms’ period performance
practice and instruments into account,
including less vibrato but more
portamento than today and a more
flexible approach to rhythm and tempo.
There’s a bracing freshness
and tension about the strings’ introducing
the opening theme, partly because they’re
using gut and contemporary style bows.
This is immediately becalmed by the
clarinet’s version of it (tr. 1 0:13),
gliding on Brahms’ longer sustained
notes. The contrast is also more marked
because Schatzberger uses a copy of
the original clarinet in A, as played
by Richard Muhlfeld, more mellifluous,
less pungent in tone than the modern
clarinet yet still with sufficient dark
hue for the descent to louder, more
clamorous material at 0:33. The second
group of themes, from 1:27, is given
at first an impetuous assertiveness
before taking in a melting (1:59) then
manically energetic manner (2:15), then
turning wistful in second violin (2:25)
and clarinet in turn.
Now Schatzberger and
the Fitzwilliams play the exposition
repeat from 2:46 in a touch more savoured,
reflective and more rounded manner.
I like this because it’s subtly transforming
the music in the light of the initial
experience, another layer before its
recapitulation. The development soon
launches by 5:56 into writhing turmoil
in this performance, rescued by a kindlier
version (6:20) of what was originally
(1:01) the spikiest of the first group
of themes. You wouldn’t guess it could
do this, nor erupt into such a soulful
clarinet fanfare (7:04). The spontaneity
of this performance continues to grip.
The slow movement finds
the poignancy of the clarinet solo opening
captured in eloquent glowing tone with
tender repeat by muted first violin.
However, the central section (tr. 2
3:25) shows Schatzberger just as equal
now to gypsy abandon, extravagant fiery
gestures, now passionate, now simmering
before a return to the opening which
is all the more beautiful for being
more rounded and accepting and what
sensitive portamento, the occasional
use of slide between notes, the first
violin Lucy Russell finds in the repeat
of the theme at 7:25.
The third movement
begins with nonchalant folksy grace,
but this performance points its growingly
frolicsome nature, and its second section
(tr. 3 1:24), starting with a faster
version of the opening theme, is a busy
and here notably volatile scherzo teeming
with nervous energy. An assertive leaping
theme emerges from the clarinet (1:45)
and again in this account we hear a
theme becoming more considered and rounded
in its repeat as a duet with first violin
(3:18).
The finale’s theme
and variations are unusual in that it’s
the second half of every unit that’s
repeated, so the emphasis is on development
rather than initial impulse. The theme
is given thoughtful treatment here.
Variation 1 (tr. 4 0:55) is freer flowing
in its light scoring. Variation 2 (1:52)
is lively then more searingly lyrical,
Variation 3 (2:56) delicately intricate,
Variation 4 (4:20) sunnily content then
Variation 5 (5:51) surprisingly intense
in its ardent lyricism. The coda (6:44)
brings back the first movement opening
theme sensitively fused with the finale’s,
confirming the work’s and this performance’s
intrinsic consistency of mood.
I compared another
recording whose significance is acknowledged
by Alan George, the 1937 by Reginald
Kell and the Busch Quartet (Testament
SBT 1001). Here are the comparative
timings, the bracketed ones making a
direct comparison taking account of
the earlier recording lacking the first
movement exposition repeat.
Timings |
I |
II |
III |
IV |
tt |
Schatzberger & Fitzwilliam Quartet |
11:27 |
10:23 |
4:24 |
8:25 |
34:39 |
Kell & Busch Quartet |
8:17 (10:42) |
12:18 |
4:21 |
8:05 |
33:01 (35:26) |
More notable in the
earlier account is the stylish rubato,
that fractional lengthening of key notes
in a phrase and shortening of others,
that moulds the phrases and makes the
structure more appreciable. The first
movement’s second group of themes is
more mellow, the development’s turmoil
less clear and therefore powerful though
the humane response is emphasised by
a more marked slowing of tempo. The
spirited passages have the same freshness
of approach as Schatzberger and the
Fitzwilliams but the recording, though
good, lacks the sonority. So this Linn
SACD will not give you as sweet, at
times radiantly poetic and musing Kell
and Busch interpretation, but a more
vivid experience in more spacious sound
of clearer and more dramatic contrasts
in dynamics which makes the music seem
more modern and open air in character.
Kell and Busch draw
out the slow movement more, Kell’s playing
in particular with a vocal intensity
and the return of the opening section
is wonderfully poised. But the central
section is less contrasted. Schatzberger
sounds more like a gypsy. Her more flowing
approach has a more troubled character
at first and it’s a joy to savour the
serene refinement of the playing in
duet with Lucy Russell when the first
violin reaches its upper register (tr.
2 1:06) and appreciate here and elsewhere
the clarity of the lower strings’ accompanying
texture.
I prefer the Kell and
Busch third movement for its sheer unaffected
pleasure and lighter and more graceful
second section. Schatzberger and the
Fitzwilliams are a touch more crafted
which makes for an edgier second section,
though its internal contrasts are thereby
made more explicit.
There’s also more marked
individuality about the Kell and Busch
finale. The theme is shapelier and delivered
with more feeling for the melody. Variation
1 is wistful and troubled, variation
2 dramatic and biting. Variation 3,
however, has a quixotic delicacy with
more than a hint of comedy in the clarinet’s
pirouettes which begin the second section.
Variation 4 has an unaffected serenity.
Variation 5 returns to wistfulness but
with a more lilting manner and suggestion
of a smile too this time before a contrasted
elegiac coda.
Schatzberger and the
Fitzwilliams emphasise the flow of the
finale’s theme, making it more temperate.
Their Variation 1 reveals more light
and shade and there are similar chameleon
mood changes in Variation 2, whose vigorous
opening is subverted by the clarinet
at the beginning of the second section.
Their Variation 3 has a more pensive
intricacy and the clarinet pirouettes
are more coy. Their Variation 4 is gorgeously
laid back but not quite as natural.
Their Variation 5 has a fine internal
momentum halted by a musing coda with
a sensitively shaped clarification of
the combination of elements of first
and final movements.
The comparison brought
home to me that Schatzberger and the
Fitzwilliams have created an interpretation
which takes account of historic performance
styles yet also has a more modern concern
with the overall structure and flow
of the work. Furthermore they’re able
to present the sonority and dynamic
contrasts Brahms conceived with greater
clarity and vividness than hitherto
through surround sound.
I admire the enterprise
of this SACD’s programme which features
the clarinet before and after Brahms
right up to recent time in pieces you
won’t otherwise find on disc in quintet
performance. Before is represented by
Mozart in the opening Allegro
movement of a Quintet (tr. 5) of which
only Mozart’s exposition survives. Duncan
Druce, as he explains in his booklet
note, has completed the movement taking
clues from Mozart’s practice in similar
works. The result is certainly engaging.
For starters the strings make a sunny
proposition and the clarinet comments
curvaceously. From 1:04 all plunge into
a more quicksilver style, the low register
of the authentic basset clarinet in
B flat copy Schatzberger uses in gurgling
fullness from 1:14. From 1:24 this is
resolved in a more beauteously savoured
musing.
The exposition repeat
from 2:03 features some additional filigree
decoration from the performers and is
also more reflective. Druce’s construction
of the development from 4:08 offers
more sober, shadier paths, but with
the outline of the original material
still clearly recognizable. The recapitulation
(5:46) sports a slightly expanded, decorated
clarinet melodic line before a graciously
turned winking close.
The next item, Glazunov’s
Reverie orientale (tr. 6) begins
with an even more sinuous, sultry clarinet
solo, the tail of which (0:19) has a
suggestion of the melodic repeated figures
in Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade,
but that came 7 years later! Sweet
strings in the sunny intensity of upper
register lusciously reinforce and expand
this impression from 0:24. The whole
is repeated, as you come to expect from
Schatzberger and the Fitzwilliams, with
the artistry of a touch more reflection
even though Glazunov’s scoring is now
denser.
At 2:17 the clarinet
introduces a more assertive version
across which the strings soon cast sighing
descents. The clarinet and strings’
writing – this version is Glazunov’s
original scoring - is finely interwoven
but the climax, from 4:41, comes in
the strings with the clarinet accompanying.
Yet it’s the clarinet who leads in the
final phase (5:20), with calls that
seem like the throes of desire which
gradually echo into the distance. Very
evocative and a totally different experience
from the preceding works, as if emanating
from a heat haze while time ambles.
Here Schatzberger plays a clarinet in
B flat.
Equally evocative and
different in environment is the final
work, William Sweeney’s An Og-Mhadainn
(The Young Morning) (tr. 7). Have
a look back at the cover. The composer’s
booklet note describes it as "a
human reflection on the peculiarly clear,
bright atmosphere of some early mornings,
early in the year." The clarinet
opening, more vivacious than anything
else on this SACD, is a kind of wake-up
call before its smoother identification
with sustained string line backcloth
which stretches across the piece like
a vast horizon, at first just glimmering,
then subtly changing focus and presence
from time to time.
Still the clarinet
provides the liveliest movement and
activity in which a song gradually evolves
around an ostinato, that’s a
persistently repeated accompaniment
figure. Vivid use of the extended basset
lower register of the clarinet in A
Schatzberger plays here and indeed the
screaming upper register at 8:17 support
this multiple personality. From 6:12
the experience is like being drawn into
the raucous activity and creature squabble
of the farmyard before a gradual and
by contrast beautifully open calming
to that gentle, comforting ostinato.
Things will reach even keel. The whole
is a terrific demonstration of Schatzberger’s
control and also another example of
interpretive tradition as Sweeney is
also a clarinettist and was a pupil
of Alan Hacker who premiered this work.
This is a challenging
disc for all the right reasons. Not
always comfortable listening but rewarding.
And a great range of perspectives.
Michael
Greenhalgh