Imagine you're hearing a lecture on classical music. "String quartets," says the lecturer, "represent the highest pinnacle of musical art. Only connoisseurs can hope to understand them." What should you do? Walk out, I'd suggest, because that's how people talked a hundred years ago. There's nothing stuffy about string quartets. In fact, the two words that might best describe them are "intimate" and "fascinating." |
Why intimate? Because
they're not played by an 80-piece orchestra, or even by a
15-member brass brand. Just four people -- playing two
violins, a viola, and a cello -- sit on the stage,
communing with themselves and the music. Back in the 18th
century, the age of Mozart and Haydn, string quartets
weren't even performed for an audience. They were played
at home, for entertainment. Entire families used to play
string instruments in those days, and it's easy to
imagine an 18th century housewife calling out to her
husband as he left for work: "On your way back,
Hermann, buy a new string quartet for us and the
girls." So if Beethoven's symphonies could be compared to epic novels, his string quartets are much quieter; they're much more like letters home. But why should we call them "fascinating"? Because each instrument has much more to do than an instrument in an orchestra. Think of your standard 80-piece symphony -- strings are the backbone, but they don't tell the story alone. Trumpets and timpani offer drama; plaintive oboes supply a touch of pathos. Not so with a string quartet. Four instruments take care of everything. So none of the instruments ever stands still. The first violin might play the melody. But the second violin and viola turn the accompaniment into a dance with a life of its own. They sing, jump, and simmer; they might even offer comments. The cello, meanwhile, plays a bass line with substance enough to be a melody itself. |
What kind of people play
string quartets? A rock band, basically. And yes, that's
a joke, but there are similarities. String
quartets, first of all, are long-term propositions, just
like the most successful bands. The same four players
continue for years. And just as rock bands come with more or less standard personalities -- the flamboyant lead guitarist, the party guy on drums -- so do string quartets. The first violin is the decisive leader. The cellist, too, can be forceful, which makes sense: The cello sings with a majestic tone, and, by playing the bass line, carries the whole ensemble on its shoulders. What about the viola and second violin? They burrow into the inside of the music; they're much quieter. The second violinist, traditionally, would be someone who rarely speaks. The violist, who plays an instrument with a dusky, muffled tone, is equally silent, but much more sensitive. And yet the four people get along. Or maybe they don't, but still they make music. Sometimes you'll find a quartet whose members wouldn't tolerate each other, if they weren't transformed by the magical chemistry of Schubert and Debussy. Funny, isn't it? Strip away that old fuddy image of string quartets, and you're left with drama -- human and passionate. |
and two great quintets -- quartets plus!
copyright © 1995 by Greg Sandow
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