Lammermuir Festival: Mozart Quintets 1
Prestongrange Church, Prestonpans, 08/09/23
Prestongrange Church in Prestonpans in the late afternoon of 8th September played host to what can only be termed a magnificent obsession, a chamber group formed with the sole purpose of studying and performing Mozart’s 6 String Quintets. Spunicunifait, a name taken from a nonsense-word coined by Mozart in an outrageously rude letter to his cousin (so, dear reader, no speculation as to its meaning will be offered here: you’re on your own with that), comprises five friends, all leading European string players with separate fulfilling musical careers, who come together to explore and indulge a shared passion for Mozart and his unique contribution to the string quintet genre. In an endeavour to get closer to their beloved Mozart, they use historically-informed performance practice on period instruments. In practice, this means using gut strings, a bowhold further from the frog (I was unable to detect whether the actual bows were also period – they looked ‘normal’ to me), an older tuning to a lower, less ‘bright’ ‘A’ and very sparing use of vibrato, among other refinements less obvious to eye and ear. In the first of two concerts, we heard Quintets 1, 4 and 5 – in a programme change these were performed in the order 1 and 5, then 4 after the interval.
For the first half of the concert, the players were seated in a semicircle, in the order first violin, first viola, cello, second viola, second violin. I am guessing that this choice of non-traditional spatial arrangement is felt to be optimal for displaying the musical conversations as scored in the First and Fourth Quintets. Gut strings have their pros and cons. The biggest plus must be the warm rich tone – and full marks to the venue for supporting that acoustically. The biggest challenge is holding tuning, especially on an unseasonably (and record-breakingly) warm afternoon in Scottish September. Not surprisingly, the instruments were tuned between all movements. The stability of the tuning improved through the programme as the instruments acclimatised.
The First Quintet in B-flat major (in which the cello part was originally labelled ‘basso’), gives great prominence to the first violin, first viola and cello, though there are moments of dialogue and imitation for all pairings. I have to admit I don’t know it at all and doubt whether I’ve heard it before. It’s a gem, or at least, it is when performed by these five enthusiasts. The phrasing was delicious, with some lovely teasing ritenuto. Fabulous ensemble sound shone throughout the first movement, only to be surpassed by the muted beauty of the Adagio. Lovely dialogue between first violin and viola, followed by the seconds, amply justifying the unusual layout. A minor key interlude, heralded by a dramatic drone on the cello, was a wonderful surprise. The minuet, a simple, almost naïve melody with short phrases, framed a cheeky trio with lovely echoes by the seconds of the ends of phrases and an especially cheeky ornamentation by the second violin at the end. The genial opening theme of the finale turns out not to be a rondo theme, but the first of two themes, the second agile and scurrying, which form the basis of a playful polyphonic romp. Thoroughly excellent.
The Fifth Quintet in D major is more well-known, at least to me. The two violists swapped places. The slow introduction, cello arpeggiation discussed by the others, is dismissed by the joyful Allegro, only to make a reappearance before the brief coda. The Adagio, a very lovely romance in G major triple time, was exquisitely played, with some heart-warming melodic material for first viola. The minuet, genial and conversational with beautifully phrased imitation, frames a sweet trio with high arpeggiation answered by pizzicato comments. Very lovely. The thrilling finale, a cheeky, witty Haydnesque jig, concealing adventurous key changes and ingenious counterpoint, was played with infectious delight.
The players assumed the more traditional layout of violins 1 and 2, violas 1 and 2, and cello after the interval for the ever-popular and best known Fourth Quintet in G minor. The first movement’s melancholy and gravitas are, unusually for Mozart, unrelenting in that, even in the key explorations of the development, and the recapitulation, no major keys make an appearance, the darkness further amplified by the presence of two violas. There was a theatricality in the interpretation which I found very moving. The minuet, undanceable with its discordant accents on the third beat and uneven phrase lengths, carries on the G-minor melancholy, but the Trio, in G-major 3-bar phrases fashioned from the end of the minuet, relaxes the tension without abandoning the pathos. The slow movement, muted and nominally in E-flat major, accomplishes that very Schubertian trick of wringing more pathos from the major key than the minor, and was played with exquisite sensitivity and the very best mutually responsive phrasing. The elegiac G-minor slow introduction to the finale was achingly beautiful, so when the Allegro G-major begins in earnest, it sounds happy but wistful, moving on but not unaffected by the earlier trauma, generally assumed to be the death of Mozart’s father. Delicious ritenuti. Superb.
Spunicunifait have assumed a mission of advocacy for these Mozart masterpieces, both well-known and lesser-known. I have no hesitation in saying: mission accomplished.