So it was not terribly good programming to jam the Debussy and Ravel up against one another and leave the new work until after intermission; but the wait was worth it. Higdon's quartet is finely made and rather beautiful; had the Cypresses done nothing else but commission this piece they would've done good work.

The first movement, "Bright Palette," Higdon told the audience, sort of begins in France and moves to America, to reflect the journey from Debussy and Ravel to here and now. So it does. "France" is soft, lyrical, and sweetly harmonized — think Milhaud in his gentlest pastoral mode. (The scoring — so often one violin high above everything else — recalls Milhaud at least as much as the harmony does.) Then a sort of transatlantic voyage, via chains of falling sevenths that might have wandered in from the Barber Violin Concerto. Then some sharper rhythms, syncopations, rhythmic unisons. Hmm. I think we're in America now.

The music is a lot more continuous than the composer's own program made out, and some of the ideas in it are marvelous. (The two violins in high duet, over arpeggios in the lower strings, for example — a rare texture and a fascinating one.) The second movement, "Quiet Art," is meditative and lonely; Higdon said that it was intended to evoke the solitary practice of an art (the painter in the studio, the musician in the practice room), and it does that very well.

Then a scherzo ("To the Point"), modeled on the pizzicato scherzi of the Debussy and the Ravel, but much more systematic than either. The Cypresses were adamant that the scherzo of the Debussy was born of his fascination with the gamelan at the Paris Exposition. I'm skeptical (if you are entranced with a percussion ensemble, is your first idea to write a string quartet?), but at any rate we now have Higdon's extremely cool scherzo, in which every player has a motive and all manner of fun ensues when the tunes rub up against one another. The finale ("Noted Canvas") unfortunately has rather too hard an act to follow, but the conclusion is brilliant.

Through all this the Cypresses got to show off their considerable virtues. Their ensemble is impeccable, and their blend and intonation (bar a few high notes in the violins) are uncanny.

But what they haven't got is personality, either individually or as a group. The first half (the Debussy and Ravel Quartets) made that clear enough. They can certainly play the music. But the performances were disturbingly glib and streamlined, never taking time, glossing over expressive opportunities both for the group and for the individual players. In music full of color, they almost always avoided it. The only exception I heard was violist Ethan Filner, who in the middle of the Ravel's first movement brought out a flat, almost ghostly sound for his solos. I wish the other players had matched him.