Jasper String Quartet: Insects and Machines
Sono Luminus

The names of the Jasper String Quartet and Vivian Fung are equally prominent on the cover of Insects and Machines, and so they should be: the recording showcases the exceptional synergy violinists J Freivogel and Karen Kim, violist Andrew Gonzalez, and cellist Rachel Henderson Freivogel have developed in their seventeen years together, and the release is as memorable a document of Fung's gifts as a composer. That the album, the premiere commercial recording of her first four string quartets, features her material exclusively testifies to the high regard with which her work is held by the musicians.

The quartets the California-based Fung composed between 2004 and 2019 reveal an original and imaginative compositional voice, both qualities evident not only in the character of the writing but, with the first two structured in multi-part movements and the others single-movement designs, in its form. In place of the traditional string quartet's focus on allegros, adagios, and scherzos, Fung's treat personal interests and experiences as the foundation. The first and second reflect the influence of Asian folk music, the third a chant, and the fourth the sounds of buzzing insects she encountered while trekking through a Cambodian jungle. All such elements both individuate the works and accentuate the originality of Fung's vision. Given that, it's fitting that Insects and Machines was chosen for the album title instead of something more prosaic. Her writing demands expressive interpreters, and the multiple award-winning Jasper String Quartet more than delivers on that count. The performances are marked by finesse but are also fiery; yet even when the music is feverish, the clarity of the quartet's playing never suffers..

Concision is one of many things that recommend these quartets, as evidenced by the short movements that make up the first two. The first string quartet entices with insistent syncopated patterns that grow increasingly savage. Whereas “Animato” plays like a take-no-prisoners sword fight, “Interludium” arrests the pace for an atmospheric movement rich in suggestiveness. String Quartet No. 1 actually began with the writing in 2001 of its aptly titled third movement, “Pizzicato,” with the other three emerging in the two years after its creation. Even when a movement is plucked as it is in this case, an underlying feeling of aggressive drive is still very much present, something brought explicitly to the fore in the work's fierce “Moto Perpetuo” movement.

The influence of Asian folk materials on Fung's writing is vividly captured in the six-part String Quartet No. 2, which uses a plaintive Chinese folksong as the foundation for the introduction, interlude, and postlude. After a haunting opening movement that uses the folksong as a chorale, “Of the Wind” reintroduces the ferocity and visceral energy of the first quartet; “Of Birds and Insects” is playful by comparison and speaks to Fung's ability to paint a scene using techniques such as trills, harmonics, and glissandos. “Of Tribes and Villages” reinstates the propulsive drive of the second movement before “Postlude: Of Ghosts and Memories” reintroduces the folksong as a heartfelt chorale to lend the work a satisfying shape.

In the third and forth quartets, the single-movement design works well for musical presentations that are both fluid and episodic. Using a chant as a locus of orientation, the twelve-minute String Quartet No. 3 begins hazily, the chant only gradually reaching definition. Once it's voiced, it undergoes a series of transformations, with the music branching out into separate tendrils and alternating between hushed and turbulent passages. The impression forms of material being tackled from numerous angles and different strategies implemented to do so. In some moments, the strings entangle at seeming cross-purposes and at others gather in unison to wail collectively. String Quartet No. 4: Insects and Machines is perhaps the most striking of the four for how convincingly it conjures the nature setting during its eleven minutes. At the outset, flurries of strings resemble a swarm of insects; soon enough, elements extricate themselves from the mass and dart forth as rapid phrases and stabbing fragments.

January 2024