Teatro Argentina, March 10, 2011
I have known and listened to the Cuarteto Casals for quite some time now, so I was elated when I found out they would be playing right next to my house, at the Teatro Argentina I had never been to but was longing to know. This is the place where Rossini premièred the Barber in 1816, a fiasco, I am told.
The theater is gorgeous, completely rococo, all red and gold. It is amazingly high ceilinged as when you see it from the outside, it looks rather small. But that is a mystery Rome keeps well, with its myriad small and modest façades the doors of which actually lead to majestically proportioned and elaborately decorated churches. The stage is all set in red velvet, and the 4 chairs are red and gold, very striking. The programme consisted of Mozart (the E-flat major K. 428), and Beethoven (the A minor no. 15) with Six moments musicaux by Gyorgy Kurtág sandwiched in between. I was prepared to endure the contemporary composition, and was surprised to actually enjoy it. But anything this quartet tackles is bound to be surprising. They are perfectionists, and have the means to achieve their ambition. All four (yes, the Three Musketeers, well… you know) musicians are wonderful, have matching mellow tones and intelligent phrasing, certainly discussed at length during rehearsals. They have that great quality of unity which makes for satisfying chamber music. I always remember the violist in the quartet I once ventured into who liked to say that four excellent soloists do not make one good quartet, and he definitely has a point. Dialogue is crucial in chamber music, and great soloists are rarely self-effacing enough to allow for the voices to speak out when they should. Instead of an intelligent and coherent conversation, you can easily hear a heated argument when four soloists join forces! Not universally true, as Yo Yo Ma, Emmanuel Ax and Jaime Laredo can prove, but not a complete lie either.
The Casals was everything I expected, down to the red strappy dress that Vera Martínez Mehner wore, a bit exasperating as the right strap had a tendency to slip over her shoulder forcing her into hazardous maneuvers to replace it. Luckily, it didn’t affect her playing one bit, she is a cool customer.
The Mozart, one of the six Haydn quartets, was sweet and lively, the viola and cello magnificent in their supporting roles, definitely worthy of an Oscar. Abel Thomas played first violin with charm and rigor, yes he seemed to say, Mozart is supposed to entice, but that effect is extremely hard to achieve and supposes a great entente among the four instruments. Not that this is not essential to every single piece of the quartet repertoire, but in Mozart, as in Haydn, it is critical because of the extreme transparency and exposure of all four instruments. I am listening to the Budapest recording right now, and to the risk of being iconoclastic, I will say that in this particular recording the low pitched instruments are far too protagonistic, probably more due to a faulty recording than to the Budapest themselves, I rush to add, lest Onkel Heinz sets off to strangle me.
The Kurtág, as I said, was thoroughly enjoyable, although I need to listen to it again to be able to say anything.
And the Beethoven proved that these youngsters do their homework thoroughly and superbly, and that Vera Martínez as first violin is every bit as interesting as she is playing second fiddle. What a stupid expression, as the supposedly second fiddle is sometimes much more important than the first, acting as a bridge and often gluing the four voices together, a by no means easy task. Again the viola and cello have a crucial role to play and do it magnificently. The poignant opening is everything it should be. And the whole performance is supremely satisfying, which makes it all the more difficult to understand the frigid reception from the audience, again proof that the Italian public, or the Roman, at least, is either very difficult to satisfy or supremely insensitive. I choose to believe the latter. The applause was perfunctory at best, and the half full theater quickly emptied completely, making me think that that is what happens when you cast pearls before swine.