Document

  1996
    December 1996
        Chamber
                Brahms String Quintets, Quartets and Sextet.

Brahms String [Quintet] Quintets – No. 1 in F, Op. 88; No. 2 in G, Op. 111. Bruno Pasquier (va); Ludwig Quartet (Jean-Philippe Audoli, Elenid Owen, vns; Padrig Faure, va; Anne Copery, vc).

Naxos (Super budget price) (CD) 8 553635 (60 minutes: DDD).

Brahms String [Quintet] Quintets – No. 1 in F, Op. 88; No. 2 in G, Op. 111. Walter Trampler (va); Juilliard Quartet (Robert Mann, Joel Smirnoff, vns; Samuel Rhodes, va; Joel Krosnick, vc).

Sony Classical (Full price) (CD) SK68476 (59 minutes: DDD).

Brahms String [Quartet] Quartets – No. 2 in A minor, Op. 51 No. 2^a; No. 3 in B flat, Op. 67^b. String [Quintet] Quintets – No. 1 in F, Op. 88^c; No. 2 in G, Op. 111^d. String Sextet No. 2 in G, Op. 36^e. ^ce Alfred Hobday, ^d Hans Mahlke (vas); ^e Anthony Pini (vc); Budapest Quartet (Josef Roisman, Alexander Schneider, vns; ^abd Istvan Ipolyi, ^ce Boris Kroyt, vas; Mischa Schneider, vc).

Biddulph mono (Mid price) (CD) LAB120/1 (two discs: 144 minutes: ADD). Item marked ^a from HMV DB2507/10 (recorded 1935), ^b DB1859/62 (6/33), ^c DB3143/5 (12/48. 1936), ^d DB1866/8 (6/33), ^e DB3139/42 (6/37).

Here is Brahmsian wine in three distinct vintages, though it would be misleading to suggest that the oldest is also the finest. The young Ludwig Quartet, ably supported by violist Bruno Pasquier, are at their best in the First Quintet, the opening measures especially, which wear an appropriately smiling countenance. Odd moments of miscalculation – such as a somewhat overstated rallentando prior to the return of the first movement exposition (2'41") – matter less than they might have done in a less fetching performance. The expansive second movement, with its Dumka-style alternations of fast and slow music, also goes well, particularly the heavenly little melody at 9'50". However, the Ludwig’s account of the Second Quintet is considerably less impressive, with an opening Allegro non troppo that is far from the prescribed ma con brio and a development section (from 8'13") where tuning appears to be something of a problem. A few scrappy passages should have been re-recorded (4'27" into the finale, for example), while the finale’s polka-style second set has none of the charm and swagger that the Juilliard bring to it.

True, the Juilliard (with violist Walter Trampler) also occasionally veer from the note’s centre, but not to any appreciable degree. And what playing! Listen to how they tackle the Second Quintet’s opening: the pulse is vibrant, articulation is clean but never exaggerated, chords are properly weighted and when we reach the development’s shimmering first bars at 5'54" (like the Ludwig, the Juilliard repeat the first-movement exposition) – what can I say? Absolute rapture – there’s simply no other word for it. The Adagio’s sombre outer sections are both expressive and transparent and I would cite the opening bars of the Un poco Allegretto third movement as among the most perfect examples of instrumental voicing that I have ever heard on a chamber music record: everything tells, and yet the phrasing remains mobile and expressive. The First Quintet is virtually as good, with a warmly cosseted account of the first movement’s waltz-like second set (1'40") and an impressive build-up of tension from, say, 6'41" – one of the most Dvorakian passages in all of Brahms. Readers who only know the Juilliard Quartet from their lean, intense and tonally fragile RCA/CBS recordings of the late 1950s and early 1960s (I loved them but some thought them lacking in tonal body) will find these performances far warmer and more ‘European’ in tone – although a binding intelligence is common to virtually all of the group’s recordings (even through various changes of personnel).

Both the Juilliard and the Ludwig Brahms Quintets were recorded during the course of last year; that’s some 60 years after the Budapest Quartet entered the studios with violists Alfred Hobday (in Quintet No. 1) and Hans Mahlke (in No. 2). So far as sound is concerned, we take on board a minimal sheet of surface hiss (though hardly more than on the average unprocessed analogue tape) and listen through a single channel, but in other respects – balancing, tonal lustre, even presence – Ward Marston’s transfers of HMV’s superbly engineered originals relate a perfectly acceptable sound-stage.

Stylistically, the Budapest are dryer and less attenuated than the Juilliard, more sparing with vibrato and rather purer in tone. A first encounter with Op. 88 suggests a lower temperature than the Juilliard, too – and yet once into the first movement’s central argument the playing becomes taut and incisive. Like the Juilliard, the Budapest make the most of the second movement’s contrasted episodes and bring considerable fire to the first movement of Op. 111. Unlike the Juilliard, however – or the Ludwig, for that matter – they omit the first-movement repeats of both quintets. Some 20 or so years later, the Budapest went on to re-record both works in stereo for CBS (nla) and although the remakes are generally slower and less technically secure than these 1930s classics, they have a certain ruggedness that suits the music – the finale of Op. 88, especially. Sony should reissue them.

Biddulph’s reissue context is especially enticing in that along with the Quintets, they give us a poised account of the Second String Quartet, an especially fine version of the Third (where tempos are ideally chosen and the genial nature of the music is warmly conveyed) and an equally illuminating performance of the Second Sextet – flexible, reflective and, like the Quintets, expertly balanced by the engineers of the day.

Anyone who is as yet unfamiliar with Brahms’s chamber music for strings and who doesn’t mind elderly sound quality will find the Biddulph set highly congenial. Those of you who own more recent recordings might also learn a thing or two from them, but if the two quintets are your leading priority, then the beautifully recorded Juilliard are my prime recommendation. As to the Ludwig Quartet, their First Quintet is competitive at the price, but their Second isn’t. Naxos’s sound is lively though a mite cavernous.

RC



		Here is Brahmsian wine in three distinct vintages, though it would be misleading to suggest that the oldest is also the finest. The young Ludwig Quartet, ably supported by violist Bruno Pasquier, are at their best in the First Quintet, the opening measures especially, which wear an appropriately smiling countenance. Odd moments of miscalculation – such as a somewhat overstated rallentando prior to the return of the first movement exposition (2'41") – matter less than they might have done in a less fetching performance. The expansive second movement, with its Dumka-style alternations of fast and slow music, also goes well, particularly the heavenly little melody at 9'50". However, the Ludwig’s account of the Second Quintet is considerably less impressive, with an opening Allegro non troppo that is far from the prescribed ma con brio and a development section (from 8'13") where tuning appears to be something of a problem. A few scrappy passages should have been re-recorded (4'27" into the finale, for example), while the finale’s polka-style second set has none of the charm and swagger that the Juilliard bring to it.



		True, the Juilliard (with violist Walter Trampler) also occasionally veer from the note’s centre, but not to any appreciable degree. And what playing! Listen to how they tackle the Second Quintet’s opening: the pulse is vibrant, articulation is clean but never exaggerated, chords are properly weighted and when we reach the development’s shimmering first bars at 5'54" (like the Ludwig, the Juilliard repeat the first-movement exposition) – what can I say? Absolute rapture – there’s simply no other word for it. The Adagio’s sombre outer sections are both expressive and transparent and I would cite the opening bars of the Un poco Allegretto third movement as among the most perfect examples of instrumental voicing that I have ever heard on a chamber music record: everything tells, and yet the phrasing remains mobile and expressive. The First Quintet is virtually as good, with a warmly cosseted account of the first movement’s waltz-like second set (1'40") and an impressive build-up of tension from, say, 6'41" – one of the most Dvorakian passages in all of Brahms. Readers who only know the Juilliard Quartet from their lean, intense and tonally fragile RCA/CBS recordings of the late 1950s and early 1960s (I loved them but some thought them lacking in tonal body) will find these performances far warmer and more ‘European’ in tone – although a binding intelligence is common to virtually all of the group’s recordings (even through various changes of personnel).



		Both the Juilliard and the Ludwig Brahms Quintets were recorded during the course of last year; that’s some 60 years after the Budapest Quartet entered the studios with violists Alfred Hobday (in Quintet No. 1) and Hans Mahlke (in No. 2). So far as sound is concerned, we take on board a minimal sheet of surface hiss (though hardly more than on the average unprocessed analogue tape) and listen through a single channel, but in other respects – balancing, tonal lustre, even presence – Ward Marston’s transfers of HMV’s superbly engineered originals relate a perfectly acceptable sound-stage.



		Stylistically, the Budapest are dryer and less attenuated than the Juilliard, more sparing with vibrato and rather purer in tone. A first encounter with Op. 88 suggests a lower temperature than the Juilliard, too – and yet once into the first movement’s central argument the playing becomes taut and incisive. Like the Juilliard, the Budapest make the most of the second movement’s contrasted episodes and bring considerable fire to the first movement of Op. 111. Unlike the Juilliard, however – or the Ludwig, for that matter – they omit the first-movement repeats of both quintets. Some 20 or so years later, the Budapest went on to re-record both works in stereo for CBS (nla) and although the remakes are generally slower and less technically secure than these 1930s classics, they have a certain ruggedness that suits the music – the finale of Op. 88, especially. Sony should reissue them.



		Biddulph’s reissue context is especially enticing in that along with the Quintets, they give us a poised account of the Second String Quartet, an especially fine version of the Third (where tempos are ideally chosen and the genial nature of the music is warmly conveyed) and an equally illuminating performance of the Second Sextet – flexible, reflective and, like the Quintets, expertly balanced by the engineers of the day.



		Anyone who is as yet unfamiliar with Brahms’s chamber music for strings and who doesn’t mind elderly sound quality will find the Biddulph set highly congenial. Those of you who own more recent recordings might also learn a thing or two from them, but if the two quintets are your leading priority, then the beautifully recorded Juilliard are my prime recommendation. As to the Ludwig Quartet, their First Quintet is competitive at the price, but their Second isn’t. Naxos’s sound is lively though a mite cavernous.