If you’re expecting the sardonic, jaded Kurt Weill, be forewarned that you won’t find him on this recording. These two quartets are very much early works. The first, written when he was 18, was never performed publicly in his lifetime (and the original score was only rediscovered in 1995). The 1918 quartet chronicles the state of Weill’s compositional sensibilities during his student days: he luxuriates in wildly rich, late-Romantic textures and throws far too much into the pot (aping nearly every important Austro-German composer from Mozart onward). It’s certainly precocious, but it’s also the kind of overreaching, sophomoric art that embarrasses its creator later in life.
The Op. 8 quartet, written in 1922-23, is light-years ahead of its predecessor; and unlike the earlier work it was premiered quite soon after its completion (notably with Paul Hindemith playing the viola part). Already we hear a far more mature musician, from the insistent undercurrent of rhythm in the cello at the beginning of the Introduction, later taken up by all the players, to the astringent tonality and mocking sensibility of the Scherzo. But the piece really blossoms in the concluding, slowly unfolding Choralphantasie, a lush garden of strangely colored flowers whose harmonic structure is a clear precursor of Weill’s later, better known works.
Last up in this collection is Hindemith’s odd Minimax from 1923, subtitled “Repertorium for military music”. Written for his own Amar Quartet (who had debuted Weill’s Op. 8 quartet), the work is a sublimely goofy parody of saccharine waltzes, inane overtures, and pompous marching band tunes–it’s the aural equivalent of a Monty Python skit. The playing is exactly what we have come to anticipate from the stunning Leipzig players: a warm, rich tone, sensitive phrasing, and exquisitely precise and polished articulation, all captured in lively, opulent sound. It’s another winner from this stellar quartet. [8/17/2002]
