Grace Rainey Rogers Auditorium, Metropolitan Museum of Art; Jan. 19, 2007
The Takács Quartet has gone through several important personnel changes since its founding in 1975 and with Briton Edward Dusinberre long ensconced in the first violinist’s chair and its newest addition, Geraldine Walther, formerly principal violist of the San Francisco Symphony, it’s no longer a “Hungarian quartet” but an “Anglo-Hungarian” Quartet. The ensemble’s fans can be assured that the latest change has led to no loss in its interpretive powers and a considerable gain in tonal blend and virtuosity. The group effortlessly sailed through a challenging program at the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Grace Rainey Rogers Auditorium Friday night, impressing not only with their superior sound and technique, but also with the interpretive acumen that forces a listener to say after each piece, “that’s the way it should go.”
The Takács’ sound now has a tonal depth and stylish polish that should make it the envy of the chamber music world. The opening chord of the Debussy Quartet that began the program amply testified to that new timbral gravity, a tonal thickness projected with warmth anchored at the top by Dusinberre’s luminous violin and broadened by the enormous tonal range of Walther’s viola. The exchange between the second violin (Károly Schranz) and Walther in the Andantino was riveting, as was the energy and passion the group brought to the work’s last movement. Both of those traits were present in their performance of Shostakovich’s Eleventh Quartet, which occasioned some extraordinary playing. Shostakovich’s mannerisms like the ostinato passages in the Adagio and the way the folkish riffs were passed from instrument to instrument suddenly riveted the attention, managing to become slightly humorous and somewhat threatening at the same time.
The program ended with Beethoven’s massive Quartet in A minor, Opus 132, which the Takács made memorable through their blended ensemble sound, rhythmic thrust, apt tempos, and refusal to gussy up the performance with exaggerated dynamics inappropriate to the late Beethoven style. The interplay among the strings was a constant joy throughout, the second movement invited head-bobbing and toe-tapping, the Alla Marcia brought smiles, the finale, passionate ferocity. But the highlight of the Beethoven was, as it must be, the extraordinary long slow movement at its center. Here, the Takács played with sustained, involving intensity that led inexorably to the overwhelming sense of peace and acceptance that closes the movement. At the work’s end the unusually silent audience erupted in whoops and hollers more appropriate to a rock concert but amply justified by this extraordinary quartet.
Dan Davis
