Showing posts with label Brodsky Quartet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brodsky Quartet. Show all posts

Monday, 31 October 2022

A profoundly moving Shostakovich cycle marks the Brodsky Quartet's 50th birthday in style

Saturday 29 & Sunday 30 October 2022

Kings Place, London










Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975): 
String Quartet no. 1 in C major, Op.49
String Quartet No. 2 in A major, Op.68
String Quartet No. 3 in F major, Op.73
String Quartet No. 4 in D major, Op.83
String Quartet No. 5 in B flat major, Op.92
String Quartet No. 6 in G major, Op.101
String Quartet No. 7 in F sharp minor, Op.108
String Quartet No. 8 in C minor, Op.110
String Quartet No. 9 in E flat major, Op.117
String Quartet No. 10 in A flat major, Op.118
String Quartet No. 11 in F minor, Op.122
String Quartet No. 12 in D flat major, Op.133
String Quartet No. 13 in B flat minor, Op.138
String Quartet No. 14 in F sharp major, Op.142
String Quartet No. 15 in E flat minor, Op.144


No. 1:
'Strident expression from Osostowicz in the opening movement and sad nostalgia from Cassidy in the slow movement'.

'There was stark pizzicato and searing anguish from Osostowicz in no. 12’s second movement, and Cassidy’s painful ascent to the top the fingerboard at the end of no. 13 was almost unbearably lonely'.

No. 14:
'Thomas brought rich intensity to the almost Bachian extended solo passages, as well as glorious warmth to the ‘Italian’ duet with the first violin, and the Lady Macbeth “Seryozha, my darling” quote in the final movement'.

'Cellist and writer Wilson studied in Moscow with Rostoprovich in the sixties, and was full of first-hand knowledge of not only Shostakovich and the works but many of the key people around him'.

'Frolova-Walker’s talk on the second day added wry humour, but also drew harsh parallels with the current situation in Russia and Ukraine'.

'As many questions as answers about this profoundly disturbing yet moving cycle, as well as even greater admiration for the artistry and achievement of a fine quartet of players in their prime'.

Read my full review on Bachtrack here.

Friday, 4 November 2016

CD Reviews - November 2016

The Tallis Scholars, directed by Peter Phillips, are now on their sixth disc of Masses by Josquin des Prés (c.1440-1521).  There are question marks over the authenticity of both the masses on this current disc, the Missa Di dadi (The Dice Mass) and the Missa Une mousse de Biscaye, although Phillips argues Josquin’s case well in his detailed notes.  The reason for the inclusion of dice at various points in the score of the MIssa Di Dadi is uncertain, with some connection between the numbers on the dice and the note lengths of the cantus firmus, but not entirely consistent.  The appearance of something so secular seems unusual, but gambling was very popular in Milan at the time, where Josquin wrote the mass – was this Josquin’s joke, or a nod to a wealthy patron?  The composition uses a  ‘cantus firmus’ – a tune often drawn from other sources (on this occasion a chanson by Robert Morton) around which composition is based – and this is placed in the tenor part, at different speeds (hence the dice connection). The Missa Une mousse de Biscaye draws on a secular song, with French and Basque text, and the title means ‘A lass from Biscay’.  So two examples of Josquin taking secular material as the basis for his Mass settings, the latter potentially Josquin’s earliest setting.  Both the masses here are in just four parts, and The Tallis Scholars are pared down to just eight voices, with some sections being sung by solo voices.  As ever, the blended sound is pure and even, but the simpler structure of just four parts, and a maximum of eight singers makes for a plainer, clearer sound than sometimes their larger forces produce.  These are beautiful performances, and highlights include the Crucifixus in the Missa Di dadi, with its low, falling sequential lines at ‘simul adoratur’, building to an emphatic Amen.  This is followed by a gloriously reverent Sanctus.  In the Missa Une mousse de Biscaye, there is more rhythmic motion, and the melody is passed around the parts, creating a more fluid feel.  The settings are lower, without high soaring soprano lines, and the combined voices here create a beautifully rich blend.  Highly recommended. 



The Brodsky Quartet have returned with their second recording of Brahms with Chandos, this time pairing the String Quartet, Op. 51 No. 1 with the great Piano Quintet, Op. 34, for which they are joined by the Ukrainian pianist Natacha Kudritskaya.  Much has been written about how Brahms struggled to follow on from Beethoven in particular in relation to his symphonic output, but similar self-doubt applied to his writing for the string quartet, and it took him until 1873, aged 40 to publish his first two, the Op. 51 set.  He only composed one more string quartet, favouring instead other chamber genres such as quintets and sextets, of which the Piano Quintet is certainly up there as one of his chamber masterpieces.  The String Quartet, Op. 51 No. 1 is, however, a fine work, with Brahms in his tragic, C minor mode.  The second movement Romanze is particularly beautiful, and the Brodsky Quartet excels here with their warm tone.  Their outer movements could have more dramatic edge and drive, but they never fail to produce a beautiful sound, and their blend is flawless.  The Piano Quintet is mammoth, and began life as a string quintet, and then as a sonata for two pianos, before he settled on its final scoring.  The first movement is full of weighty turbulence, building right from the bare unison opening to its dramatic conclusion.  The slow movement is mostly calm, with occasional undercurrents of disturbed cross rhythms disturbing the stability.  The unsettling mood continues in the Scherzo, and the Finale’s anxious slow opening develops into a dramatically passionate conclusion.  Once again, the Brodskys produce a wonderfully blended sound, and the balance with Kudritskaya is sensitive, although I would have liked a little more power from the piano at times.  Overall, these are strong performances, full of warmth and body.  


Baroque violin specialist Johannes Pramsohler returns with his Ensemble Diderot with another great discovery, the Trio Sonatas of one Jean-Joseph Cassanéa de Mondonville (c.1711-1772).  The French composer was a highly renowned composer in his day, although not generally remembered today.  His Trio Sonatas, Op. 2 are beautiful examples of the genre, with an artful combination of the French and Italian styles of the time.  Each in four movements, there are graceful opening adagios, lively fugues, followed by graceful slow movements, topped off with lively rapid finales.  The instrumentation is of particular interest here.  Pramsohler argues convincingly that Mondonville specially intended that some of the second violin parts could be played by a flute, keeping these parts free of double stops and placing them generally higher than the first violin part.  However, he only did this is some of the sonatas, not all, so the argument is that Mondonville wasn’t just taking the common pragmatic and economic line to expand his market, but actually specifically thought about the scoring for flute in some of the sonatas.  To this end, The Ensemble Diderot plays Sonatas 3 and 5 with violin (Pramsohler) and flute (Kristen Huebner), and the rest with two violins, Roldán Bernabé taking the second violin part.  The ‘third’ part of the trio, the continuo is provided by cellist Gulrim Choi and Philippe Grisvard on harpsichord.  These are delightful sonatas, and despite Mondonville’s slight over fondness for long chains of sequential writing, there is nevertheless much variety in the relatively constrained structure.  So, for example, the fugue of No. 4 is spiky and angular, whereas the fugue in No. 2 has a much more of a focus on running lines passed between the two violin parts.  And in the finales, he contrasts a running, racing presto in No. 1 with a dancing allegro in three to close No. 2.  As ever, the Ensemble Diderot play with great precision and energy, and the blending of the two violin parts weaving in and out of each other is particularly impressive.  The change to flute and violin provides a welcome change of texture, and Huebner is suitably sprightly to match Pramsohler in the opening duet allegro to No. 5.  But the absolute highlight for me is the very first movement of No. 1, with wonderfully delicate trilling passed back and forth between the two violins, Pramsohler and Bernabé playing with exquisite perfection here.  This world premiere recording is a welcome addition to the Ensemble Diderot’s impressive and growing catalogue.

Monday, 12 October 2015

CD Reviews - October 2015

Johannes Pramsohler and the Ensemble Diderot are back with a beautifully packaged disc of concertos by Antonio Maria Montanari (1676-1737).  Not heard of him?  Neither had I – perhaps because not much of his music has survived, and little was published in his lifetime. Yet as a successor in Rome to Corelli, he was a significant violinist composer, also giving lessons to Pisendel, the Dresden composer, who’s works Pramsohler has also been bringing to new audiences of late.  In fact, some of the concertos only exist in copies Pisendel had following his visit to Rome.  This disc brings us six of Montanari’s Violin Concertos, only one of which has ever been recorded previously.  The concertos are written in seven parts, for two solo violins and a solo cello, two further violin parts, a viola part and basso continuo. However, Montanari makes flexible use of these parts, not always simply contrasting the solo ‘concertino’ and the full ‘ripieno’ grouping, as in the classic concerto grosso, but sometimes mixing and matching and doubling parts.  The Ensemble Diderot also varies the basso continuo combining harpsichord (Philippe Grisvard) with violone (Youen Cadiou), theorbo or guitar (Jadran Duncumb).  Pramsohler takes the lead solo violin part and directs proceedings.  Concerto No. 6 has a wonderfully mysterious slow central movement, followed by a halting yet jauntily leisurely Allegro, the longest movement of any of the concerti. Concerto No. 5 opens with a bristling Allegro, with wonderful tit-for-tat solo violin and cello exchanges.  Concerto No. 7 has solo violin parts that sing, and the interchange between the two instruments is contrasted expertly with the full ensemble, and Concerto No. 8 has real fire in the virtuosic solo parts in its fast movements.  These concerti are real gems, and the performances here bristle with energy and spirit. The balance achieved between the solo and fuller passages is spot on – this is so clearly a small ensemble of dedicated musicians who are able to communicate their obvious enthusiasm for this wonderful music.  Another hit from Pramsohler and friends.


Alexander Zemlinsky (1871-1942) was a Viennese composer, who, like his friend and one-time pupil, Arnold Schoenberg, emigrated to the US in later life.  However, unlike Schoenberg, he was largely neglected in the US, and his music has never taken a foothold in the repertoire.  Supported by Brahms, he developed an individual voice perhaps more influenced by Wagner and Mahler – he never went down the atonal route that Schoenberg followed. Zemlinsky fell in love with Alma Schindler, who initially reciprocated his feelings, but dumped him for Mahler. In the intense and somewhat incestuous environment of turn of the century Vienna, Schoenberg married Zemlinsky’s sister, Mathilde, who then had an affair with the artist Richard Gerstl. She returned to Schoenberg, and Gerstl subsequently committed suicide. The affair had a deep impact on Schoenberg and Zemlinsky’s friendship, with Schoenberg also contemplating suicide. So to the music – the Brodsky Quartet have recorded his four numbered String Quartets, as well as a premiere recording of an early String Quartet in E minor, which failed to pass muster with the all-powerful Tonkünstlerverein in Vienna, and was thus abandoned by the composer. Whilst he clearly hadn’t mastered writing for the string quartet here, and the influences of Brahms and also Dvorak are most evident, this is nevertheless a work that didn’t deserve such out and out rejection. The String Quartet No. 1 is in a happy A major, and is perhaps the least troubled of the four mature works. The slow movement begins in a rather stately fashion, but relaxes into a more lyrical mood, and the finale is uncomplicatedly positive. The String Quartet No. 2 is a long, single movement work, and the Brodsky Quartet take some of the tempi quite slow here, the whole quartet coming in at over 43 minutes. In contrast to the first quartet, this is a turbulent, almost tormented piece – hardly surprising given that it expressed the traumatic personal period of his life described above. There are lots of symbols here the ‘cross’ of the F sharp minor key signature, associated with pain, grief and guilt, and coded references to himself, Mathilde and Schoenberg. It is a complex piece, with real virtuosic writing, and the Brodskys maintain the intensity and coherence despite not rushing things.  The tormented yet Romantic language is somewhat reminiscent of Schoenberg’s Verklärte NachtString Quartet No. 3 moves into harsher, more neo-classical territory, and is perhaps initially the least accessible. Yet it rewards patient listening, and it actually contains surprisingly melodic writing, particularly for viola and cello, within its modernist construction. He opens String Quartet No. 4 with a Präludium that contains motifs from the second and third quartets, and another reference to Mathilde, creating a sense of mournful nostalgia perhaps. Zemlinsky combines the urgency and passion of the second quartet’s late Romanticism with the brittle virtuosity of the third quartet, and this is surely a masterpiece of string quartet writing. The Brodskys seem to shift across the varied styles of all of these quartets with ease, and make one wonder why these quartets are so seldom performed.  A great collection, well worth exploration.

Monday, 29 December 2014

CD Reviews, December 2014


I have to start this review by saying that the Brahms Clarinet Quintet, Op. 115 is my all-time favourite chamber work.  So settling down to a performance by the excellent Brodsky Quartet together with clarinettist of the moment, Michael Collins, promised much.  But first, they opened with the second String Quartet.  Brahms composed just three String Quartets, and he was forty before he published the first two, Op. 51.  Much has been written about the shadow of Beethoven that stunted Brahms’ confidence, and the string quartet genre it was also the vast body of work from the other string quartet giants, Haydn, Mozart and Schubert, that must have been intimidating for any composer following so soon after.  In fact the Op. 51 pair were received well, if not overly enthusiastically at the time, but the ever self-critical Brahms wasn’t entirely happy with them.  Interestingly, he seemed to favour the expanded resources of quintets and sextets, which perhaps gave him more scope for his often richer, thicker harmonic writing.  However, the second String Quartet in A minor, Op. 51 No. 2 is on the whole, a lighter, more lyrical affair, although darkness lurks in the thoughtful slow movement, and in the weighty yet lively Hungarian dance influenced finale.  The Brodskys give a fine performance here, nothing remarkable, but giving due weight where required, and a lighter touch, for example, in the alternating Allegretto Vivace section of the third movement.  However, there is definitely a feeling of this being a curtain raiser for the main event, the Clarinet Quintet.  This dates from the Indian summer of Brahms’ compositional output, after he had said he would compose no more.  A number of key works stem from this period, including three other chamber works including the clarinet, all inspired by the playing of clarinettist Richard Mühlfield.  The Clarinet Quintet is a masterpiece of nostalgia, sadness and at times, exquisite beauty.  This is a more laid-back performance from Collins and the Brodskys than some – their take emphasises the introspection and reflection, and less so the dramatic outbursts of frustration, even anger that are there in the music.  Their tempi throughout are relaxed, which is a noticeable Brodsky characteristic. So I missed the full extent of this passion, particularly in the turbulent second movement.  However, Collins’ warm, honeyed tone is perfect for the sense late summer turning to autumn, matched by the rich, full-bodied string playing from the quartet. The poignant return of the music from the first movement is played with great sensitivity and pathos. So overall, a fine performance, but not quite hitting all the right buttons for me.


Back in February I reviewed a disc of Franco-Flemish renaissance music sung by the all male Italian ensemble Odhecaton, and their latest disc tackles the strange and wonderful world of Carlo Gesualdo (1566-1613).  He is almost more famous for having murdered his wife (who was also his first cousin) and her lover, than for his unusual and strikingly chromatic music, so it’s always good to see new recordings of his music.  As with their previous disc, the soundworld is different from what we are used to from many English early music ensembles.  On this disc the singers are joined in some pieces by instrumentalists and the viol group Ensemble Mare Nostrum, and the blend of sounds is extraordinary, to the extent that at times, separating the sound of the counter-tenors from the cornett is not always easy.  This mix of textures, as well as the insertion of several short organ pieces, makes for a varied programme.  The works on this disc come from Gesualdo’s first book of Sacrae Cantiones, and there isn’t space here to go into detail about all the pieces here.  Highlights include the weird falling harmonies in Deus, refugium et virtus, and the subtle mix of singers and instruments in Tribulationem et dolorem and Dignare me laudare te. But if you want to discover more about Gesualdo’s music, this is a great place to start.



Violinist Jennifer Pike has carved out a great career already, having been the youngest winner of the BBC Young Musician of the Year back in 2002, aged just twelve.  In her performance here of one of the last great Romantic concertos, the Concerto for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 47 by Jean Sibelius (1865-1957), she demonstrates incredible musical maturity, combined with an effortless virtuosity.  There isn’t a flicker of difficulty as she negotiates the challenges of cadenza passages in the first movement, and the fiendish octaves and harmonics of the finale are rock solid.  The only cost of such effortless command of the technical difficulties is that we occasionally lose an edge of danger, important in such a passionate work.  The passion rises in the slow movement however, and she is supported by some beautiful playing from the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra, especially from the wind section.  Sir Andrew Davis and the orchestra then fill out the disc with a selection of orchestral works by Sibelius, some better known than others.  The most substantial is the enjoyable Karelia Suite, rooted in Finnish folk music from the region bordering Russia, and Sibelius’ strong belief in the freedom of Finland from Russian rule.  Davis and the orchestra give a rousing performance, and their Finlandia is also strong, with rich and stirring orchestral tones.  The highlight, however, is their performance of one movement from Sibelius’ Lemminkäinen Suite (a shame we couldn’t have all four), The Swan of Tuonela.  The conversation between solo cor anglais and cello, over muted divided strings, is one of Sibelius’ most inspired creation, and the soloists here (Hege Sellevåg, cor anglais, and Jonathan Aasgaard, cello) make a fine job of it.  The popular Valse triste is accompanied by the less well-known Valse lyrique and Andante festivo, all receiving strong performances. 


(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, December 2014)