San Francisco Classical Voice

CHAMBER MUSIC REVIEW

Musicians of the First Rank

November 17, 2002

Prazak String Quartet

By John Lutterman

The East Bay has been blessed with a number of exceptionally fine quartet performances of Eastern European masterworks this fall. In October, Cal Performances brought the Takács Quartet to Zellerbach, where they managed to project a powerful reading Bartók's dark and brooding sixth quartet. Another highly regarded Czech quartet, the Prazak, performed in UC's Hertz Hall Sunday. Until recently less well known in the west, though in their homeland, the Prazak has long been considered the Takács' peer and rival.

Both formed in the mid-seventies, the Prazak and Takács are heirs of a long and distinguished tradition of Czech quartets and string technique. Although much of the string world has become "internationalized," Czech musicians have managed to retain a distinctive character, a character also evident in the profile of larger ensembles like the Czech Philharmonic. While the Takács, resident in Colorado for many years now, have remained a first-rate quartet, and their newer (non-Czech) members are very fine musicians, it has perhaps lost some of this distinctive profile. Not so the Prazak.

The Takács' performance a month ago certainly set a high standard, but it is a standard that the Prazak met, and perhaps exceeded, with great aplomb. This is an extraordinary ensemble. Violinists Vaclav Remes and Vlastimil Holek, violist Josef Kluson, and cellist Michal Kanka, each has a strong individual musical personality, clearly projected at the right moments. But perhaps the most extraordinary characteristic of the Sunday performance was the seeming ease with which each member moved between roles: leading, answering, supporting, challenging or blending in as the occasion demanded.

Taking pleasure in their art

Though Remes is a masterful leader, and his colleagues seemed to have great confidence in his direction, each was also ready to step in and take over in his turn. All four musicians seemed to be enjoying themselves thoroughly, and their infectious enthusiasm playfully drew the audience into the imaginative worlds they seem to inhabit. This is a group that takes obvious delight in the physicality of performance. Some might feel that their movements were too theatrical, but to me they seemed quite natural — always motivated by the spirit of the music, never forced.

The program began with one of Schubert's masterful late quartets, the A minor, Op.29, No. 1. Much has been made of the influence of Beethoven's "Razumovsky" quartets on these works, but Beethoven's influence is also evident in the way Schubert seems to have found refuge from despair in this music. As so much of Schubert's chamber music does, this is a quartet that sings, but sings within a complex, dramatic structure that is much more substantial than his earlier chamber music. Schubert himself claimed that these were studies for his grand ninth symphony. The late quartets show an ambition to grapple with the problems inherent in larger-scale structures. There are Schubert's usual endless approaches to the final cadence, but here they are interrupted by dramatic pauses and sudden turns in the direction of a phrase, in a manner that approaches the rhetorical style of the late Beethoven quartets.

At the outset the Prazak seemed to have some difficulty adapting to the acoustical demands of the hall. They sounded a bit wiry and their propensity for a fast, nervous vibrato seemed a bit out of control. By the end of the first movement they had made some adjustments and the playing opened up beautifully through the rest of the concert. I would have preferred a wider palette of vibrato, but the most important factor in shaping string sound is the handling of the bow, and they made imaginative use of a very broad range of colors and articulations.

Skill in detail

It was also good to hear them employing a liberal dose of tasteful slides, an important, but often ignored dimension of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century performance practice. They handled the difficult issues of pacing adeptly, and showed a really delicious sense of rubato.

Their rendering of Schubert was compelling, but the Janácek that followed, the Quartet No. 2, "Intimate letters," was the highlight. This is another powerfully dramatic work, with an exceptional range of colors and textures. The opening glassy sul ponticello passages were handled with assurance, and as a result the eerie, surreal atmosphere that they evoke was not disturbed by the nervous quality that this material is often subjected to.

Though he never offered a specific program, Janácek claimed that the work was written as an expression of his feelings toward a young woman with whom he was carrying on an affair. Purportedly, it was a long-distance platonic relationship in which his amorous feelings appear not to have been reciprocated. Perhaps the atmosphere evoked at the beginning is meant to reflect his stunned reveries on his obsession with his beloved.

Grass roots

Elements of Czech folk music find their way into the texture later in the quartet, and the performers dug into dance rhythms with relish, but for the most part the folk style is present in an abstracted form, like Bartók or Stravinsky at their best. This is music of tremendous emotional range, music that the Prazak clearly loves and feels at home with, and it is hard to imagine a more convincing reading.

After intermission the program concluded with Borodin's Quartet No. 2 in D major, a piece made famous by the themes from the middle movements that were appropriated for the musical Kismet. After the powerful works of the first half, it was something of a disappointment. Although the Prazak gave it a committed performance, this is a rather unsubstantial, insipid work, and the last movement of Dvorák's "American" quartet, offered as an encore, came as a relief. Although also somewhat light in character, this is a very effective finale and showed the Prazak in fine form. Remes' first entrance was a real teaser, and a playful, witty quality remained in effect throughout — a pleasant way to end an afternoon of chamber music-making at its best.