Lammermuir Festival: Quatuor Agate: Mozart and Beethoven
Stenton Parish Church - 07/09/23
As I drive towards Stenton I’m thinking, “This is about as remote as it gets in Southern Scotland. “The only traffic is agricultural, and not much of that. On either side open fields strewn with hay bales. Then I turn into the village to park my car with at least a hundred others strung out along the road. The Lammermuir Festival knows how to haul them in. The audience packs the church, white hair and English accents predominating.
The programme typeface is too small to read without my fiddling around for my glasses, so I rest my eyes and prepare to listen.
Four Frenchmen, elegant in black, less than half the age of most of the audience, take the stage. The cellist, Simon Iachemet, introduces the programme in fluent idiomatic English. “There’s humour in the music, that Mozart was quite a funny guy.” Mozart is one of my beloved composers; Beethoven for me admirable but less enchanting. Will this performance change my mind?
Already the first notes come fresh and resonant with vibrations you just don’t hear even on the highest hi-fi. No, you can’t get this at home. It sounds remarkably modern. I’ve just been hearing on the car radio a premiere by Judith Weir; this is not so different. Though I’ve heard this piece many times, some of it sounds quite unfamiliar, while punctuated with Wolfgang’s characteristic arpeggios. The music makes me want to dance, not sit respectably still; then I notice how all four players tap and jig with their shiny patent leather shoes, and not only to the minuet. Thomas Descamps, second violin, looks about to get right out of his seat. Adrien Jurkovic, first violin, gets really carried away, in the high notes, perhaps troppo forte? Most satisfying are the ensemble moments, with a fullness deep and slow. At the end applause is explosive, thankfully without those whoops of joy currently in fashion.
Our cellist-compere now tells us that the Mozart was just an appetizer, the main course is Beethoven. We’re in masterpiece country; part of it was even sent into outer space to represent some of humanity’s greatest achievements. “He wrote for future generations; it’s so modern it could have been written by Shostakovich”. “Oh dear,” thinks I, “Shostakovich was on Radio 3 just this morning and I wanted to turn him off”.
It opens with Beethoven’s typical assertiveness, much of it loud, strident. Here and there is a melody, but now I get no impulse to dance, and I see the patent leathers are less active than for Mozart. One movement is slow, mostly ensemble, playing a low range that resonates in the belly; there’s a fullness which could captivate me. The finale, the Grosse Fugue, does indeed sound modern, aggressive, even angry. What made Beethoven so angry? Shostakovich at least had good reason, caught between Stalin and Hitler. Suddenly a moment of gentleness, a theme repeated, easing the ear. Then, as suddenly, back into attack, the first violin invading my ears even more than before, though here more fittingly. Then it’s done, the sober somewhat elderly folk are stamping their feet with approval on the church’s wooden boards...
I sit there impressed with the players’ skill and dedication, with Beethoven’s skill and dexterity, but my preference for Mozart’s grace and élan unaltered.
