All these recordings derive from the early 1990s, and have been
usefully brought together to form a three composer, all-Czech
disc. Alto’s multi-coloured booklet tracking information, whilst
perfectly legible, looks cramped and all wrong: re-space, simplify
the colours and change the font, is my advice. But the performances
are all right, certainly not quite at the top of the pecking
order but offering consistent and consistently good playing.
That applies to both quartets though rather more to the Talich,
who are on home ground. The Vanbrugh, one of the best groups
currently to be found in the British Isles, had a tougher assignment
back in 1992, given that they tackled Janįček’s Kreutzer
Quartet, a potential minefield for the unwary and under-prepared.
The Talich recording of Smetana’s two quartets makes a fine
impression. In this performance — they recorded the First elsewhere
— they sound quite close to the eponymous Smetana Quartet, who
also left behind multiple recordings, in the studio and live,
as one might have imagined. I find the EMI sound a touch chilly,
but not enough to impede enjoyment of an airborne, quite lithe
performance, nicely textured, with a sprung rhythm and plenty
of wit in the Polka second movement. They don’t dig as deeply
in the slow movement as do the Smetana, but evince calm resolve
as the tinnitus attack begins in the finale, rather than grief-laden
and excessively vibrated. Another great Czech quartet, the Janįček,
left behind a version of the work that differs in most respects
to the Talich and indeed the Smetana recordings: fruitful grounds
for debate on the Bohemian-Moravian divide when it comes to
the national repertory.
The late Second Quartet is much less often performed but is
highly attractive, more compact than its brother, and its composition
cost Smetana dear. It was an agony to write. All four movements
are played in a conventional, assured way. The dance courses
through the veins of this quartet and the sense of momentum
is well graded. Inner voices are also well realised. As a worthwhile
pendent there is Suk’s St Wenceslas Meditation, always
a most attractive addition to any recital and indeed becoming
something of a repertory piece these days. The Vanbrugh’s Janįček
is at its most immediate and communicative in the contrasts
and reflective abrasions of the third movement. They studied
the work with Milan Skampa and show suitable awareness of the
right colours and rhythmic emphases to apply. It’s a most persuasive
reading on its own terms.
At the price bracket, indeed any price bracket, these performances
offer highly satisfying rewards.
Jonathan Woolf