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About the Program
The American String
Quartet's programming of two quartets goes beyond the simple choice of
an 18th Century and a 20th Century work, although the Mozart and Berg
pieces certainly fit these categories. Both, however, were recognized
in their times as very much avant-garde productions - one of Mozart's
noble patrons even tore up his copy of the music in his anger,
convinced that his private quartet had played wrong notes. Now, of
course, both of these quartets can be considered part of the standard
repertoire of upwards of a hundred string quartets.
Menahem Pressler
makes a welcome return to our series as he joins the American Quartet to
play Dvorak's splendid Piano Quintet in A, a member of a genre of only
about half a dozen standard repertoire pieces.
While many composers have complimented their mentors with dedications,
certainly the most famous of such tributes must be Mozart's six
masterful works known ever since as the "Haydn" Quartets. What an
occasion it must have been, on a January
Saturday in 1785 when Mozart and some friends first played these "fruits
of a long and laborious effort" (to quote Mozart's published dedication)
before Haydn himself. The ink had dried only the previous day on the
sixth of the set, the Quartet in C, K. 465. Later Haydn defended to
numerous critics the feature which affixed the nickname "Dissonant" to
the C major Quartet: the tonally ambiguous slow introduction with its
clash of passing tones and suspensions. Slow introductions are rare
among the quartets of both Haydn and Mozart, but this one throws into
bright relief the sudden appearance of a clear C major as the main
Allegro begins. This finely propulsive movement contains many
felicities in writing for the instruments. Indeed, the many corrections
and revisions in Mozart's autograph shows that he had worked hard to
achieve an effortless-sounding inevitability in these quartets. One of
the finest touches in the lovely Andante comes very near the end, when
the first violin adds a wonderful new cantilena above the off-the-beat
rhythmic figure used so effectively throughout the movement. The minuet
has distinctly Haydnesque features combined
with typically Mozartean chromatic passages,
while the minor-key trio section is a fine foil to the minuet proper.
The finale, too, owes much to Haydn, for, as Mozart himself stated, it
was from his great and cherished friend that he, Mozart, had learned to
write quartets.
Alban Berg's String
Quartet, Op. 3, from 1910, is his last work written under the direct
tutelage af Arnold Schoenberg, and at the
same time his first mature composition. The teacher was impressed, and
later wrote of the "overflowing warmth of feeling" that he found in
Berg's music. Though written without key signatures, the work is not
yet strictly atonal, as suggestions of tonic centers are pervasive if
not explicit. Berg was at pains to emphasize a lyric line throughout
the piece. The score is packed with expressive directions which reflect
the depth of feeling to which Schoenberg referred. In devising his
musical structures Berg leaned quite consistently on classical roots;
even the two-movement overall design is not at all alien to classical
procedure, having been favored by such as Johann Christian Bach and also
frequently by Haydn in sonatas (but not quartets). Berg's first
movement is something akin to sonata-form, and his finale is something
like a rondo: good 18th Century practice. The 1923 public premiere of
the quartet was a very significant milestone in
Berg's recognition as a composer. (As an aside, Berg dedicated
his quartet to his wife, not to his mentor. He did dedicate his Op. 5
pieces for clarinet and piano to Schoenberg, who had severely criticized
them!)
Some of the very
finest 19th Century chamber music was written for the combination of
piano and string quartet. In view of their success with this form, it
is surprising that Schumann, Brahms and Franck each composed only a
single example. To these masterpieces must be added Dvorak's Opus 81.
This was actually Dvorak's second piano quintet, but since his very
early effort was lost, he too is represented by just a single such piece
on present-day concert stages. As with the other authors mentioned,
Dvorak poured the very best of himself into this quintet. We do not
know what urge impelled him to write it, but "impelled" seems to be the
operative word, for just two days after writing to a friend, on August
16, 1887, "Now I'm doing nothing new," he inscribed the title page of
this glorious piece. Just over six weeks later it was finished. A
feature of this quartet is the frequent use of counter-melodies - not
simply a contrapuntal texture, but rather setting melodies of quite
different character and shape against one another. Dvorak also wrings
an astonishing variety of moods from his material - notice, for example,
what all he makes of the serene cello tune heard at the beginning of the
first movement. The second movement is a Dvorak specialty, a
dumka, which repeatedly contrasts a wistful,
even sad section with a more lively foil. The third movement is too
lively for a waltz, but with the wrong accents for a true
furiant (despite Dvorak's subtitle) - it's
just a splendidly contrived piece of music. The finale shows Dvorak
taking the elements of folk dances and transforming them with a uniquely
personal touch.
Edwin Daley
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