San Francisco Classical Voice

The ensemble called "the piano quartet" seems to have been invented by Mozart, who enlarged on the piano-violin-cello trio, possibly because he preferred to play viola when participating in chamber music. (Of course, then the question is "Who played the piano?") Unfortunately, there is a very limited repertoire for such an instrumental mix, probably not more than 20 compositions. We heard three (by Mozart, Martinù, and Schumann), plus a movement from a fourth (Suk) played as an encore, in a performance by the brilliant Berlin Philharmonic Piano Quartet, which played at Stanford University's Dinkelspiel Auditorium on Wednesday.

The string players of the ensemble,Violinist Rainer Sonne, violist, Rainer Mehne, and cellist Markus Nyikos, are all members of the Berlin Philharmonic. The pianist, Pavel Gililov, is not a member of the Berlin Philharmonic, but a Russian expatriate with great hands who lives and teaches in Cologne. That he was able to play on a nine-foot Steinway (lid up on the long stick) and not overpower his colleagues is a testament to his skill and sensitivity as a performer. This is a magnificent group of excellent musicians who never get in each other's way.

However, in the opening work of the program, Mozart's first piano quartet (of two), the quartet in g minor, K. 478, a crack appeared, and I was surprised to hear it from a group as distinguished as this. The first movement of the work is in three sections, two of which are supposed to be repeated-- but neither of which was. It is not a matter of notes but one of architecture and proportion and, on this subject, Mozart's perspective was better than anyone's. As a result, this very big piece (big in almost every way that can be measured) was shorted by 223 measures, or about 10-12 minutes of delicious music. Why does such an experienced, professional, and thoroughly excellent group ignore Mozart's specific instructions? What's the rush? Throughout the concert, Pianist Gililov had a tendency to over-pedal, particularly in the Mozart, and especially in passages marked "forte-piano," where there should be no "clutter."

But he showed both initiative and knowledge of 18th century performance practice. In the third movement of the Mozart, at measure 135, the pianist is invited to invent a lead-in or improvised connection, as, unlike others, the Henle edition used by this Quartet, offers no suggestions for this moment. Gililov invented a clever and stylistically viable lead-in of his own. Good musicianship!!

The piano, at this performance, was suspended in midair, literally! So that it can be moved around easily, the piano appears to be permanently mounted on a metal frame, called a spider, having large rollers. The piano is then four inches off the ground. I must wonder what effect this has on the character, quality, and quantity of the sound of an instrument whose acoustics presume direct contact with the floor,

The piano quartet of Bohuslav Martinù, a late work of this eclectic, jazz-loving composer, a fiercely Czech nationalist, was written in 1942 when he was living in the United States, having left Europe because the Nazis considered his music to be decadent. Unfortunately, it is very difficult to get a thorough picture of Martinù's overall worth as a composer because so little of his music is published. He was an extraordinarily prolific musician who wrote at least 16 operas, a dozen ballets, orchestral, choral, solo vocal, chamber, and keyboard music, hardly any of which is performed today.

Perhaps things are changing, because a colloquium entitled "Bohuslav Martinù, His Pupils, Friends, and Contemporaries," was held in Brno, Czechoslovakia in 1990 ( where I read that he was called the "Czech Mozart" because of the ease and rapidity with which he composed). His piano quartet got more and more interesting as the work progressed, ending with a smashingly successful final movement. It is not a comfortable work, what with complex rhythms, difficult harmonies, and melodies that are not easy to isolate. The BPPQ's playing clarified the complexities of this hard work in an elegant way.

Schumann's quartet, Opus 47, is a charmer of youth, charisma, and freshness, composed in 1842 expressly for his young pianist-bride, Clara Wieck Schumann. The quartet is clearly an evocation of love to the woman who only two years earlier became his wife. Its slow movement is romantic enough to melt cinder blocks at 30 feet, particularly when its main solo is as breathtakingly executed as it was by cellist Nyikos, a man who plays with a great deal of panache.

An encore of the slow movement from Joseph Suk's piano quartet ended the concert.

The program notes were difficult to read, full of complex technical terms, and written in the style of a doctoral dissertation. Somehow, I don't feel prepared to hear a work after having been told about "neoclassical cosmopolitanism," "gallant mode," and the fact that Schumann "turned from the spontaneously mannerist and Romantically literary works." What I needed was the simple, elegant prose of the San Francisco Symphony's program note annotator, Michael Steinberg.

(Musicologist/author Dan Leeson is a former member of the San Jose Symphony Orchestra, a retired businessman, and an editor of the 220-volume complete Mozart edition published by Bärenreiter.)

©2000 Dan Leeson, all rights reserved