Malion Quartett: Departure
Solaire Records

What most recommends Malion Quartett's second album isn't so much the programme but more the performances. Certainly the three works Alex Jussow (violin), Miki Nagahara (violin), Lilya Tymchyshyn (viola), and Bettina Kessler (cello) selected for their sophomore effort—Beethoven's String Quartet No. 7 in F major, Imogen Holst's Phantasy, and Karol Szymanowski's String Quartet No. 1 in C major—are distinguished; however, what makes the album truly special is the energy of the Frankfurt-based group's playing and the thrill of music-making that's palpable in their July 2024-recorded renditions. Beethoven's might have been published more than two centuries ago, but it's performed with the vitality and excitement of material newly created and publicly debuted.

The first of Beethoven's three “Razumovsky” string quartets (so named because they were commissioned by Andrey Razumovsky, the-then Russian ambassador to Vienna), the String Quartet No. 7 is in four parts and at thirty-nine minutes a substantial statement. In liner notes, Miki Nagahara is astute in noting how gripping the magical opening bars of the first allegro are, not so much because they start with the cello stating the theme (rather than the first violin) but because of the excitement with which the players introduce the work. Bursting with propulsive energy and melodic allure, the movement beguiles as it swells in volume and the instruments' parts intricately entwine. The precision with which the Malion members synchronize is a constant source of satisfaction, especially when it's matched by the intensity of their emotional expression. That the movement amplifies the tension induced by delayed recapitulation only makes the performance more exquisite. Animated by its cantabile character and rhythmic thrust, the “Allegretto vivace e sempre scherzando” is no less engaging, while the quartet's playing brings out the majesty of the melancholic third movement. Not for the only time in this Beethoven performance, the group's assured command of pacing and dynamics elevates the slow movement, as do the solo parts the members execute unerringly. Returning to the F major of the opening movement, the closing part is an allegro built around its “Thème Russe," the gesture perhaps reflecting the commission that prompted the work's creation. The Beethoven quartet has been performed countless times but in Malion Quartett's hands sounds totally fresh.

Inhabiting the centre of the album is a standalone piece by Imogen Holst, who, born to her famous father Gustav in 1907,composed her Phantasy for string quartet in 1928 at the age of twenty-one as a competition submission at the Royal College of Music (she won). At nine minutes, it's dwarfed by the surrounding multi-movement works but is no less rewarding on listening grounds, especially when it exudes an entrancing lyrical quality and its lustrous textures are executed with warmth and feeling by the quartet members. Hints of French Impressionism emerge but not unappealingly, and a tranquil pastoral episode even briefly calls to mind The Lark Ascending—never a bad thing.

In contrast to the cello-centric intro to the Beethoven work, Szymanowski's String Quartet No. 1 (1917) begins with a lone high note in the first violin. The piece parts company with other string quartets in featuring three, not four, movements and in ending with a scherzo (an initial plan to cap the work with a fugal finale was abandoned). Similar to Holst's Phantasy, Szymanowski's was awarded first prize in the Polish Ministry of Religious Denominations and Public Enlightenment's chamber music competition. The first movement follows that opening violin flourish with an expansive flowering that moves quickly from lyrical serenity to turbulence and instability. Reflecting the volatile era of Szymanowski's time, the quartet is adventurous stylistically, segueing as it does from romantic moments to elegance and agitation. It's not unusual for the music to suggest a Debussy-like flavour at one moment and one reminiscent of Bartók the next. A hint of Wagnerian grandeur marks the start of the “Andantino semplice,” though as before the musical scenery shifts quickly when darker undercurrents make themselves felt and an ominous mood asserts itself. Eerie, high-pitched harmonics, tremolos, and glissandos lend the material a ghostly pallor, after which the scherzo slithers into position to cap the work with grotesquerie of one kind or another. Don't be surprised if Shostakovich and Prokofiev spring to mind as the sardonic movement unfolds.

November 2024