Takács Quartet
Queen’s Hall, Edinburgh; 16/8/24
The Queen’s Hall forenoon chamber recital slot of Friday 16th welcomed the return of EIF regulars the Takács Quartet with a programme comprising two classics, Haydn’s delicious ‘Sunrise’ Quartet Op 76 No 4 in B-flat and Schubert’s moving Quartet in G D887, framing the European premiere of Nokuthula Ngwenyama’s ‘Flow’. The concert was very well attended.
I have been familiar with the work of the Takács Quartet since the original line-up of four young Hungarian musicians appeared regularly in Dublin between 1979 and 1984, Irish audiences having taken them to their hearts. In one tour, they performed all 6 of the Bartók quartets, over 3 performances with some Haydn quartets in the mix. Over the years, the line-up has changed and the only remaining musician of the original quartet is the cellist András Fejér. Every time that I see him triggers the same memory: an impish grin under twinkling eyes and a mop of blond curls, immersed in the delight of performing the Allegretto pizzicato fourth movement of Bartók’s Quartet No.4 with his three compatriots. Though the original first violinist Gábor Takács-Nagy left in 1993 and was replaced by the current incumbent, English violinist Edward Dusinberre, the Takács brand is still a mark of excellence. I knew we were in for a treat.
The Haydn was a delight. Radiant lyricism in the first movement’s sunrise theme and rhythmic vigour in the pacy runs of its exposition framed some mysterious key exploration in the development. Attractive limpid tone remained clear even in the softest dynamics, while Haydn gives everyone a chance to shine in the modified recapitulation, and shine they did. The tender, measured simple melody of the E-flat slow movement contrasted beautifully with the elegant lyrical ornamentation in the first violin, with again some very fine warm playing at low volume. The whimsical minuet with its obsessive repeated semitone quaver figure and the cello impatient to return to it was as witty as I’ve heard and the rustic Croatian drone and quirky cadences of the Trio hinted at subtle parodic intent. The quasi-rondo finale was endowed with the character of a narrative ballad with entertaining digressions, the last a hectic scramble for the final cadence. Thoroughly entertaining and topflight Haydn.
Second violinist with the quartet since 2018, Harumi Rhodes, introduced the performers and the new work by American violist/composer Nokuthula Ngwenyama. Her multi-genre music expresses connection with, continuity of, and wonderment at the natural world and derives from a playfulness and deep-seated optimism. ‘Flow’ is in 4 movements. The first is a very episodic extended ‘Prelude’, presenting a catalogue of moods and colours of quartet music, not without some quotations, some less oblique than others – the Shostakovich DSCH motif was unmissable. The second movement, marked ‘Lento’ was quite filmic, with lovely dreamy chording, a meditative melancholy episode with a rhapsodic second violin solo, an increasingly insistent pizzicato pulse from the cello and a nervous bridge passage segueing directly into the ‘Quark Scherzo’, a whimsical waltz with bluesy, schmoozy and Broadway flavours giving way to schmaltz. The ‘Finale’ started with a lovely solo from the quartet’s violist since 2020 Richard O’Neill (fabulous tone) before second violin, cello and first violin each in turn added a perspective. The richly unfolding melodic and harmonic landscape that followed was so reminiscent of the later quartets of Dvořák (with little quirks of modernism and funky rhythms in the mix) that I almost believed I was eavesdropping on a séance with the Czech master. This charming quartet concluded on a major chord. Super piece, and it received the greatest advocacy from the Takács Quartet.
Almost exactly a year ago, the revered (by me at any rate) Pavel Haas Quartet performed the Schubert D887 in the same venue. At that time I wrote:
“Schubert’s D887, his final essay in the genre, plays out his inner emotional turmoil through a struggle for uneasy coexistence between G-major and G-minor, in music of great emotional intensity that is permeated by a sense of melancholy frailty and a typically late Schubertian preoccupation with lost innocence. Also typically Schubertian is the ability to infuse a major-key phrase with as much pathos as if it were in the minor. Tremolo passages seem to communicate a sense of dread. Oblique major-key references to Beethoven, whom Schubert worshipped, seem to suggest admiration and a little envy for one whom Schubert perhaps believed had triumphed over his demons, while reluctant to ‘own’ such strength himself. For example, the untroubled trio section of the otherwise anxious scherzo seems to quote the main theme of the first movement of Beethoven’s Op.127, while Schubert’s dancelike finale seems to refer to that of Beethoven’s Op.18 No.3.”
Every nuance of this description was evinced to perfection by the Takács Quartet, no less than the Pavel Haas and indeed, dare I say, in many places, even more so. There was an extra tinge of wry self-mockery in the demonic Scherzo Ländler, while the delicious earworm of the equally nervous Finale seemed to carry the message: “To stay alive, just keep dancing”. A fabulous performance and definitely one for the diary.
Photo credit: Amanda Tipton