Beauty multiplied by four

The more I listen to music, the more I regard the string quartet as the summit of classical music. Two violins, a viola and a cello, and the miracle happens: unity in diversity, a family whose members are very different, but who share the same features. A family where the smallest is the greatest, supported by the others.

A string quartet is like a whole orchestra, more intimate, but no less powerful. It is the opposite of stardom: even if the first violin often has a leading role, he is (almost) never “the” soloist, who takes center stage.

The string quartet is an art that does not abide mediocrity: accuracy, unity, listening and mutual attention are constantly required.

My musical tastes are rather decided: I like something or I do not like it, open-minded with regard to period or composer. Some musical styles annoy me or tire me out, the “galant” style, for instance of Lully, Rameau, etc. Others bore me, like a number of second-class Baroque musicians (musique “au kilomètre” - “music by the yard”), and I am closed to quite a few composers of the 20^th century. But a string quartet seldom leaves me unmoved.

Even if the premiere string quartets are probably those of Boccherini, it is Joseph Haydn who gave this musical form its first reputation for excellence. After him, you have to lay out a large red carpet for the greatest: Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert. Then there are Mendelssohn, Brahms, Schumann, and even Tchaikovsky and Ravel, not to mention Dvořák, Janacek, Shostakovich and others.

I would gladly add to the list works which are not strictly string quartets, but which can be regarded as similar to them, as the sublime D 956 Quintet of Schubert, with a second cello, or Mendelssohn’s opus 20 Octet in which the instrumental configuration is doubled (four violins, two violas and two cellos). Then there are piano quintets as well, like the famous D 667 Quintet, “The Trout” of Schubert, etc.

The quartet ensembles are numerous. There are great “historical” quartets, like the Hungarian Quartet, the Quartetto Italiano, the Borodine, the Hagen or the Amadeus… and plenty of others. Among the more recent, my favourites are: the Alban Berg Quartet, the Emerson Quartet, the Jerusalem Quartet, the Pražák Quartet, the Quatuor Ébène…

If you want to listen to music, nothing is worth more than a good CD, with a good player (especially good loudspeakers). Yes, You Tube does give access to a very large number of works, but with very uneven sound quality. There, too, you need to listen with good loudspeakers or good headphones.

Here are some of my “first choice” You Tube links.

* Complete collection of the Beethoven quartets, by the Quartetto Italiano: nine hours of listening! An historical interpretation… perfect! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WkUsrlDLch8

* The last five quartets (12 to 16, + Groβe Fugue) of Beethoven, by the Alban Berg Quartet. Masterful! Difficult works, sometimes austere, but brilliant. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ocyCQ3CiGQ

* The last four quartets and the D 956 quintet of Schubert, played by various groups: Amadeus, Orlando, Hagen, Pražák and Julliard. The video image is not always perfect, and the sound recording varies from one piece to the next, but the set is worth it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qUPGcI1y69E

As a musical conclusion, let me suggest to you a brilliant and delightful quartet, the opus 96 of Dvořák, known as the “American Quartet”, played by the excellent Czech group, the Pražák Quartet. If you don’t have time to listen to the whole piece, go to the 7^th minute for the splendid second movement, “lento”.

Fiodor

Eight minutes in Paradise

I lack the time to write somewhat thoughtful texts. But I try to find short moments of spiritual "breath" through music.

Here is one, found in Schubert (which will not surprise those who know me).

It is a fragment of an unfinished piano sonata (in F sharp minor, No. 8, D 571). Schubert would have written it in 1817 (he was then 20 years).

All the art and the genius of Schubert are there. This is the "wanderer" dreamily walking in the countryside. It is nostalgic without being sad, full of energy and restraint at the same time, with an extraordinary thematic richness...

I find particularly beautiful a passage that starts at 3’20 and lasts about a minute. It’s like thoughts that rise and come back, then leave in another direction, unfinished and as unsettled…

Such music can reconcile you with yourself and with the world.

I have said enough: now just listen

Fiodor

Music leads to God

A few days ago, I finished reading an important book of which I shall have to speak again: Ari Shavit’s My Promised Land: The Triumph and Tragedy of Israel^(*).

Passing over the principal topic of the book, which addresses the history and future of the State of Israel, I would like to draw attention to a passage without direct link to this theme. It concerns music and what it produces in the heart and soul of people. The experience which the author evokes touches upon one I have made repeatedly: finding peace and joy, and even the desire for God, while listening to a musical work. “Good” music can stir up a sense of God’s mystery. No image can depict it; it is nothing attainable by reasoning. It is a beauty that pierces the heart and the soul. 

The beginnings of Ein Harod kibbutz

In this passage, Ari Shavit harks back to Ein Harod’s kibbutz, in the time of the pioneers, in 1926. The kibbutzim are almost all young men and women from Europe, uprooted and having put aside their religious tradition. One day, the great violinist Jascha Heifetz comes to give a concert. Here is how Shavit reports the event.

From day one, the rough Labor Brigade pioneers of Ein Harod have had a soft spot for all things musical. One of them has an explanation. “The playing of classical music fills the void in our lives”, he writes.

The time of music is the only time that our communal dining room resembles a place of worship. There is a reason for that. Leaving God behind caused a terrible shock to us all. It destroyed the basis of our lives as Jews. This became the tragic contradiction or our new life. We had to start from scratch and build a civilization from the very foundation. Yet we had no foundation to build on. We had no Ultimate. Above us there were blue skies and a radiant sun, but no God. That’s the truth we couldn’t ignore and cannot ignore for a moment. That is the void. And music for us is an attempt to fill the void. When the sounds of violins fill our dining hall, they reacquaint us with life’s other dimension. They raise the deepest, forgotten feelings buried in all of us. Our eyes close, turn inward, and an aura almost of sanctity enwraps us all.

This "aura of sanctity" recalls the cloud that marked the divine presence, the Shekinah, during the exodus of the People of God (cf. Exodus 40: 34-38): a tangible sign which manifests an invisible presence, just as the sound of music striking our ears and opening up a window on the infinite.

To put theory into practice, here is Mendelssohn’s violin concerto played by Jascha Heifetz, with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Sir Thomas Beecham. The recording is old (1949) and the style is a bit old-fashioned according to current tastes, but just let yourself be moved by the music


 

Fiodor

(*) Ari SHAVIT, My Promised Land: The Triumph and Tragedy of Israel, New York, Spiegel & Grau, 2013, 450 p.