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Phillip T Young Recital Hall
April 25, 2016
Familiarity, the old saying has it, breeds contempt. And nowhere does this apply more than with a work such as Mendelssohn's Octet.
And there, in my own phraseology, is revealed at least part of the problem: for, arguably, there is no other work "such as" Mendlessohn's Op.20. By any standards it is a masterpiece: the level of sheer technical mastery, both of the instruments and the form, is astonishing, as is the inventiveness — many have tried to emulate the "fairy" mood of the scherzo, but the only composer who has arguably come close is Mendelssohn himself, in his overture to A Midsummer Night's Dream.
So a masterpiece by any standards, but for it to have been composed by a sixteen-year-old virtually beggars belief. Is there another work in any artistic medium of such maturity and innovation created by a teenager? I cannot think of a single one (and let us not forget that the first acknowledged masterpiece by Mozart was not composed until his twenty-second year).
Needless to say, these thoughts were prompted by Monday's spectacular performance of the octet by the combined forces of eight of my favourite musicians: the Emily Carr and Lafayette String Quartets.
It has been inevitable for some years now that eventually the two quartets would joined forces and almost as inevitable that the Mendelssohn would be the chosen vehicle for their collaboration.
I must confess that over the years I have become a little jaded when it comes to the Mendelssohn Octet, so often have I heard it peformed, but this was the performance I needed to hear, a performance to remind even the blasé just how remarkable a work it truly is.
As a whole the performance smiled, from the genial opening to the dazzling close. I am happy to report that Müge Büyükçelen resisted the temptation to treat the opening movement as a violin concerto, despite the big, almost orchestral sound the ensemble made (and this was, most certainly, Mendelssohn's intention). Balance between the players was excellent and I was enabled to hear a good deal of inner detail that had previously escaped my attention. And the second subject was quite meltingly lovely.
The slow movement flowed and provided some exquisite textures, while the "fairy" scherzo was simply magical, a musical miracle.
The finale, exuberant and puckish, like the first movement had the irresistability of a river in full spate and brought the evening to a resounding close — and the audience to their feet.
As an encore we had a reprise of the finale, which was every bit as exciting the second time around.
It is a word which I try not to employ too often, but this genuinely was a great performance.
The evening opened with the only work which the Emily Carrs played by themselves: the world premiere of Strangled by Growth by Jared Miller, an ECSQ commission.
Inspired by the eponymous Emily Carr painting (a reproduction of which was helpfully included with the programme — for which, many thanks; you can see an image here), the work proved most engrossing.
The eerie opening, for which the word "scratching" might have been invented, gave way to slow, almost Coplandesque modal chords which became increasingly complex until the first violin unleashed what I can only describe as a melody, leading ultimately to an eloquent cello solo from Alasdair Money.
A blow-by-blow account of the music would be tedious in the extreme, but the piece itself was anything but.
It was a worthy addition to the quartet's repertoire and an excellent way to open their anniversary concert.
Until about twenty-five years ago it seemed that virtually nobody outside of Argentina had ever heard of Astor Piazzolla. Today his music may not be ubiquitous, but it is certainly popular.
And given the quality and sheer joie-de-vivre of the two pieces for which the Emily Carrs were joined by accordianist Jelena Milojevic, this popularity is readily understood.
Libertango is one of Piazzolla's best-known pieces and, if perhaps a little too fast for dancing, its rhythmic bounce was still extremely infectious. Adios Nonino is more complex, featuring an aggressive opening and a wonderful lyrical section led by the simply gorgeous playing of Cory Balzer and Mieka Michaux, but was still irresistable.
The first part of the concert closed with the first collaboration between the two quartets: the Prelude and Scherzo for octet by Dmitri Shostakovich.
Except for the two cellists, resplendently seated upon small risers, the musicians played standing, as they did for the Mendelssohn. In the Shostakovich the Lafayettes took the first parts (first and second, in the case of the violins); in the Mendelssohn, it was the Emily Carrs.
Again, this is a work I'd heard several times before, yet such was the quality of this particular performance that I was practically pinned to my seat. The opening prelude begins bleakly — and does any composer "do" bleak better? — with a livelier middle section, which featured some lovely interplay between the instruments. The scherzo begins almost brutally and the entire movement was driven, propulsive and, to use the vernacular, "in your face".
All in all, a performance to make one wish that Shostakovich had written more for octet.
Most "gala" concerts are, in reality, almost devoid of serious artistic content. This, by contrast, was a true gala, in every sense of the word, musically totally rewarding (and then some) and covering a gamut of emotions — and how generous it was of the Emily Carrs to share the stage for almost the entirety of their anniversary.
Here's to the next ten years!
Finally, I will close with a remark that Oscar Wilde surely wished he could have been present to make (you would, Oscar, you would): for a city the size of Victoria to possess one world-class string quartets may be regarded as good fortune; to possess two looks like boasting.
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