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Phillip T Young Recital Hall
July 14, 2018
It was only as Alexander Tselyakov and the Lafayette String Quartet launched themselves into the finale of Ernö Dohnányi's Piano Quintet No.1, Op.1 that I realised that I had, indeed, heard the music in concert before, not just on CD.
The reason for this is perhaps surprising: the main theme of the last movement is an ear-worm of such virulent tenacity that I am still hearing it several days later. Bizarrely, though, the theme itself is not particularly distinguished, except, perhaps, by its oddness, for despite being in 5/4 time, it manages somehow to sound simultaneously angular, lump-like and foursquare — a considerable achievement and one which somehow eluded both Tchaikovsky (in the second movement of the Pathétique) and Ravel (in the finale of his string quartet).
My personal suspicion is that once this theme had occurred to Dohnányi he realised that the only way he was likely to rid himself of it was to incorporate it into his first published composition.
Clearly it is too much to expect the eighteen-year-old Dohnányi to possess the skills of a mature Tchaikovsky or Ravel; moreover the quintet clearly owes a considerable debt to Brahms and a slightly lesser one to Antonín Dvořák — who had himself been influenced by Johannes: clearly, in the late nineteenth century, all roads (that did not lead to Wagner) led to Brahms.
Having said all of which, I personally vastly prefer Dohnányi's quintet to Brahms' own, especially when played this persuasively.
The quintet begins as it means to continue, in distinctly Brahmsian mood, with the piano rhapsodising over pizzicato strings, before a distinct nod to Dvořák with the second subject. There was a tremendous sense of urgency in the playing and, if the balances were not perfect, I am perfectly willing to lay the blame at the feet of the young composer himself, while adding that many more mature composers have also found squaring this particular circle exceedingly tricky.
The scherzo was playfully robust (or, just possibly, robustly playful) with a more lyrical trio. The slow movement opened and closed with some gorgeous music for the viola, which could not have been in better hands than those of Joanna Hood; indeed, the movement was remarkable for the sumptuous tone colours produced by all five players. The climax was as passionate as only a teenager can be.
Finally, of course, came that ear-worm. Despite the weaknesses of the movement — did he really attempt a fugato? — there is no denying its exuberance and vitality, certainly not on this occasion.
A truly outstanding performance of a flawed, but ultimately charming work.
The concert opened with another youthful piece, Franz Schubert's String Quartet in B flat, D.112. Although Schubert was only seventeen when he composed it, D.112 was already his eighth quartet.
While clearly still a youthful work, there are signs of the mature Schubert; one interesting example coming at the very beginning, when the listener realises that what sounds like a slow introduction is actually played at the same tempo of the main body of the movement — a compositional sleight of hand that would reappear in the opening of the "Trout" quintet.
The Lafayette Quartet's lovely performance provided ample ammunition for those who believe that even early Schubert should be heard more often. I greatly enjoyed the sombre slow movement, with its sunnier interludes; the delightfully dancing minuet, which surely inhabits the same Viennese sound-world as the early waltzes by Lanner or Johann Strauss the Elder, and the speedy and energetic finale, complete with rhythmic figures which seemed to foreshadow the scherzo of Schubert's last symphony.
The central work of the evening was by another youthful prodigy (although the one who out-prodigied them all, Mendelssohn, was absent), but this time the piece was a mature one.
Indeed, Mozart's last four string quintets constitute one of the peaks of the string chamber literature. The C major quintet, K.515, dates from April of 1787, when the composer was a comparatively old man of thirty-one (the age at which Schubert died). It was immediately followed by its G minor companion (K.516); the following year, Mozart's last two symphonies would adopt the same two keys, albeit in the opposite order: K.550 being in G minor, the "Jupiter", K.551, in C.
Yariv Aloni (who, he told me, is especially fond of this quintet, as it was completed on his birthday) joined the Lafayettes for a deeply moving performance of this great masterpiece.
The opening movement was rhythmically very strong, but never seemed too hard driven; I especially enjoyed the slight tenuto which made the exposition repeat seem somehow inevitable, the crisp ensemble and sheer beauty of tone throughout.
The minuet had a deliciously gentle lilt and a smile on its face; the slow movement was almost too beautiful to concentrate on my notebook, while the finale jogged merrily along to its witty conclusion.
It was, as you might have noticed, the kind of performance to (almost) silence criticism.
Although the programme was quite lengthy and got me home perilously close to my bedtime, I would not have missed a single minute, although I could wish that Dohnányi's finale had a slightly less insinuatingly memorable theme.
A superb evening.
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