Concert Review—

String Quartet’s Concert Stood On Its Own Merits,

Even With A Temporary Substitute Member

By Wendy Wipprecht

What happens when a classical musician falls ill or sustains an injury? It’s as true in Carnegie Hall as it is on Broadway: The show must go on. If it happens on stage at the Metropolitan Opera, as it did recently to the

soprano Deborah Voigt, who was stricken with a stomach flu while singing Isolde, it is news. It is also the chance of a lifetime for her understudy, Janice Baird, and it overthrows, if only for a moment, the Met’s star system.

A small chamber ensemble may seem less newsworthy and less dramatic, but the effect of losing one of its members is devastating. It must  solve the problem of how to continue performing in a different way. Since the ensemble has no understudies or extra players, it must seek out a replacement player in order to fulfill its engagements.

One problem that may arise is that the replacement may not know the program the ensemble has prepared. At this point they may have to find common ground between the ensemble’s and the replacement’s  repertoires, which might involve completely changing the program for the remaining engagements.

On Sunday, April 6, the Miami String Quartet appeared at Edmond Town Hall to give the last concert in this year’s series sponsored by Newtown Friends of Music. Readers of The Bee already knew that the quartet’s first violinist, Ivan Chan, had injured his right arm, and that the group had invited  Erin Keefe to join them to complete their engagements.

But no mention of this change was made at the concert, either from the stage or in the program; the quartet’s members were listed as Erin Keefe (violin), Cathy Meng Robinson (violin), Yu Jin (viola), and Keith Robinson (cello). The only clue that something unusual had happened was the “program for the day” — a new program. Subscribers who brought their series programs noticed that the music in the “old” program was totally different than the music to be played Sunday afternoon.

The quartet’s silence about these changes meant, I think, that the musicians before us were the Miami String Quartet, not just a substitute version; and that the concert would stand on its own merits, without a backstory or an explanation. They presented three very different quartets, each of them unusual.

The concert began with Mozart’s String Quartet No. 15 in D minor, K. 421, the only one of his mature quartets written in a minor key. This quartet is one of the six “Haydn quartets” which Mozart wrote between 1782 and 1785 and dedicated to Haydn.

Mozart, who could compose as fast as he could write, as if he were copying down what he saw in his mind, labored over these six quartets, as their manuscripts show. The quartet in D minor has several unusual characteristics: it has no nickname; it is one of the few Mozart works that was not written to complete a commission or impress a prospective employer; and it is written in D minor, a key associated with revenge and retribution in his operas.

As soon as the Allegro moderato movement begins, we know we are on Mozart’s dark side. It begins boldly, with a descending octave, and with dramatic leaps in the first violin part. Later the first violin plays and repeats a figure ending with three repeated notes, a motto that is heard in every movement and thus unifies the work. It also creates a pervasive undercurrent of agitation, a jitteriness that keeps surfacing in the quartet.

The Andante movement, the only movement that begins in a major key, opens with a graceful, melodic, wistful air that is almost a waltz. Its brief middle section is louder, faster, more dramatic, and dominated by the three-note motto. The waltz-like section returns, in shortened form, to end the movement.

The Menuetto returns to the key of D minor and to a bold opening theme, stated twice (save that it involves a descending fourth rather than a descending octave). This is an agitated, dramatic section, marked by the

recurrence of that three-note figure. Suddenly comes the Trio, in a major key: it’s a cheerful Austrian folk dance (Mozart scattered these Landler throughout his works) that lightens the spirit. But the Menuetto with  its minor key and somber mood returns to end the section darkly.

The fourth movement, Allegretto ma non troppo, is a set of four variations and coda on a theme with the rhythm of a Siciliano, an old, somewhat fast Italian country dance. The first variation features the violin; the second has syncopated accents; the third is led off by the viola; the fourth, in D major, lets the cello stand out.

In the coda, which has returned to D minor, the three-note figure appears again and grows in importance so that the entire quartet ends with three determined repetitions of that unifying motto.

The second work on the program, Alberto Ginastera’s String Quartet No. 1, Op. 20, is, just in terms of time and place, very far from Mozart’s 18th Century Vienna. Ginastera was a 20th Century Argentine composer who used the traditional musical elements of his homeland in his work. Like many other Argentines, he had an interesting ethnic background: his father was Catalan, and his mother Italian. He was born in Buenos Aires in 1916, studied at the conservatory there, visited the United States in 1945-47, and studied with Aaron Copland at Tanglewood.

He returned to Buenos Aires and co-founded the League of Composers, and also held many teaching posts. He moved back to the United  States in 1968 and then to Europe in 1970. He died in Geneva at 67 in 1983.

Ginastera grouped his music into three periods: “Objective Nationalism” (1934-1948), “Subjective Nationalism” (1948-1958), and “Neo-Expressionism” (1958-1983). What seems to differentiate these periods is how straightforwardly they integrate traditional Argentine musical elements.

The Objective Nationalistic works incorporate folk themes without much alteration; later works use them in increasingly abstracted forms.

The String Quartet No. l, composed in 1948, is representative of his “Subjective Nationalism.” It was also, I would guess, a work that came as a surprise to much of the audience. The first movement, Allegro violente ed agitato, started off with dissonance and strong rhythms that are intended to evoke the driving, repetitive rhythms and the wild, primitive music of the gauchos.

This section reminds some of Bartok; but to my ear, its dissonance, propulsive rhythm, and primal character make the movement seem like Le sacre du printemps scored for string quartet.

The second movement, Vivacissimo, is also meant to evoke the pampas, the grassy plains of Argentina where the gauchos live and work. The movement’s frenzied meter evokes the malambo, a dance in the criollo tradition which can last for several hours, as two gauchos vie with each other in an aggressive display of dancing prowess — all to the accompaniment of guitars. The music imitates the spirit of competition in its shifts of accent, rhythms that play against the steady strumming, and moments of virtuosic display.

The third movement, Calmo e poetico, is a nocturne that begins with a musical reflection of the open-string tuning of the guitar. This device, which is found in other Ginastera works, has been called his “symbolic chord,” and it perfectly embodies the criollo ambiance. This movement also contains a beautiful solo for cello, an instrument he often wrote for. His wife, the noted cellist Aurora Natola-Ginastera, who is still alive and performing today, premiered many of his works for cello.

For the brief finale, Allegramente rustico, Ginastera returns to the energetic, repetitive qualities of the first movement. Once more, two themes predominate and alternate, one rustic and evoking the strumming of guitars, and the other lyrical, derived from a criollo folksong. The rustic theme returns in its original form for the movement’s exciting finish.

Try to imagine three string quartets — each quite different from one another, each calling forth such different qualities in an ensemble — yet they must somehow balance, forming a sort of equilateral triangle of diversity. What could be the third term if the first two are Mozart and Ginastera?

Claude Debussy’s String Quartet in G minor, Op. 10 was the Miami String Quartet’s choice for the second half of the program. This was Debussy’s only string quartet, and incidentally, the only work for which he assigned an opus number or named a key. Perhaps he was nervously aware of the weighty history of the genre. The quartet is considered to be his most classical work, and yet it was composed in 1893, the year in which he began the Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune. The chamber work bridges Debussy’s youthful and more mature styles, marking the transition between his academic training and the dreamy world of the Faune.

It also looks back toward the 19th Century — to Wagner and Franck — and forward to the 20th. Debussy’s quartet is almost symphonic in its range, and its writing for strings is exquisite.

In the first movement, a primary theme is repeated often, but the harmonies beneath it are always changing. A second, rhythmically smoother theme appears, and later is the basis for a set of variations. More variations, and a reminder of both themes, end the movement.

The second movement is a scherzo; it is constructed like a song, is full of gypsy sounds, and  has overtones of the Javanese gamelan. The  viola brings back the first movement’s first theme, set against a pizzicato

accompaniment. Then the first violin takes up the theme, with the second violin and viola playing a  contrasting accompaniment. The movement ends intensely, with pizzicato chords.

In the slow third movement, a song form, the muted viola and cello sing a melody reminiscent of Borodin (Debussy had spent some time in Russia playing in a trio for Madame von Meck, Tchaikovsky’s patroness). This is followed by a two-part invention, and another melody sung by the first violin, anticipating Pelleas. Then the first theme returns and builds to a strong ending.

The final movement is a cyclic section, in which the scherzo returns as a fugue, and the first movement’s main theme comes back in an inverted  form… both unusual for Debussy. At the end, the theme is heard once more, this time played by the first violin as the work moves toward a climax. A coda restates it for the last time.

This remarkable concert of very different, very demanding works drew enthusiastic applause from the audience. Newtown Friends of Music had tried to bring the Miami String Quartet to town, but was unsuccessful until this year, the Friends’ 30th anniversary season. The Miami String Quartet’s long-awaited appearance in Newtown may not have happened exactly as planned, but the concert in every way exceeded expectations.