In my half a
century of musical life, I have really not been very eclectic. I became a
‘singing’ man in my teens, and my career has been entirely spent around vocal
music of all kinds. Singing it and then (and
now) writing about it.
But it’s never too
late.
Four years ago, I
came to Berlin and I met Paul Hankinson, pianist and mega-musician. I hauled
him off to the opera and musicals, and in return he led me, like Dante, into
the world of instrumental music and concerts. I didn’t know quite nothing (brother John used to play
fiddle and chamber music and I was a fair pianist) but to all intents and
purposes I was a novice. And a novice with opinions. Often uninformed … I like
this composer, don’t like that one. Poppycock.
Well, the
experiment has been a rousing success. We have attended some splendid concerts
(some with just a leetle vocal music) in the past couple of seasons, but last
night was an acid test. A whole evening – yes, a whole evening -- of a string
quartet. For the first time ever. Mozart, Bartok, Schumann. Will I get bored in
the tenth movement? Start coughing in the quiet bits?
This tale has no
suspense. I had what can only be described as ‘a beautiful evening’ at the
Kammermusik Salon of the Philharmonie, a delightful intimate space, in the
hands of the Quatuor Ébène. These four young Frenchmen are already celebrated
in their field – so I was shocked to find the room not full – but they give the
most wonderfully un-starry performance. Warm personalities, no posing … I felt
that if I were a zillionaire they could come and play in my living room. They
led me in confidentially to this unfamiliar music, and then gave me a treat …
The Mozart was a
joy. The team played so tenderly. The instruments were so warm. Never
showy-loud or strident. So much wonderful, gentle playing. The second movement
was glorious, perhaps my favourite section of the whole evening.
I got a shock when
the Bartok started. Ouch! The dramatic, super-vigorous opening movement left me
rather stranded and lost. It was so different to what I’d just heard. But I
picked up my breath in the second part, and the third movement simply blew me
away. A rather camp pizzicato portion led to a finale which rather returned to
the style of the opening and left me thinking, ‘this piece needs more than one
hearing’.
And then came the
Schumann. Well, all I can say is my mind didn’t wander for an instant
throughout the whole lovely piece. And it gave me my nirvana of the night in
its third movement when the viola sang forth with ... well, Paul says it went A.. B.. C A... G G .. or did he say A B C A G F# E E D# ..
And then it was over. Well, not quite. The boys
gave, as an encore, a sweet arrangement of the old Johnny Mathis ‘Misty’ (which
by the way, fellers, has nothing to do with Broadway) to send us all – even the
man who kept yelling ‘bravi’ punctiliously in my ear – all away in the relaxed
and enjoyful mood in which they’d kept us all night.
So, now I know. Chamber music and string
quartets don’t have to be four-square, super-classical, mechanical, dull … it’s all in the way you play it. I’ll go back
to this friendly, warm, tender group any day. I’m a convert.
Lead me to the next one!
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