25
years of programming by the Schoenberg Quartet
Fighting tirelessly for a high-minded artistic morality
Maarten Brandt
Happy New Ears
Sieuwert
Verster, director of the Orchestra of the Eighteenth Century, once noted that
in no other country in the world was the amount of publicly offered music as great
as it is in the Netherlands. After all, he said, where else could one find more
outstanding musicians, ensembles and orchestras within the confines of such a
small area than in this country-notwithstanding all of the cutbacks made with
respect to cultural funding? Verster's observation is, of course, accurate, in
so far as it relates solely to the aspect of quantity. The fact is, the amount
of publicly offered music has no bearing on the quality of that music, let alone
on the context in which it is presented. The quality of the context-and by this,
I mean programming-is a deciding factor in the reception of any kind of repertoire.
Programming is a form of composing. The word "compose" literally means
"putting together," and for good reason. I would personally like to
go one step further and define programming-not only a skill, but an art-as a kind
of alchemy or "esoteric chemistry," of which the main objective constitutes
arranging the elements so that they reinforce instead of undermine each other,
preferably in a way that is conducive to a process of continual calibration. In
this manner, a new piece is given the chance to gain exposure; simultaneously,
the presumably familiar aspect will take on unexpected characteristics (resulting
from the perspective in which it is placed) for the listener. Good programmers
have a broad perspective. They are constantly in search of current relevance in
the music of all periods and, in this undertaking, do not allow themselves to
be swayed by the passing fancies of the day, nor by those of a unilaterally imposed
performance practice. In theory, they are open to anything that leads to intriguing
combinations-"intriguing" in the sense of confrontational in a positive
way-and aim to present the listener with "Happy New Ears!", as John
Cage called them, to both familiar and unfamiliar repertoire.
A healthy fish swims against the stream
The aforementioned requirements should not be underestimated, as is evident from
the fact that an overwhelming majority of the public performances heard in the
Netherlands are inadequately supported by what I would call a high-minded artistic
morality. How else can one explain why compositions by Dmitri Shostakovich, Giya
Kantcheli, Sofia Gubaidulina, Galina Ustvolskaya, Louis Andriessen, Mauricio Kagel
and György Kurtág enjoy greater popularity with the average concert-going
public than most of the works by Arnold Schoenberg, Alban Berg or Anton Webern?
By this, it is not my intention to make a value judgement about the first group
of composers. Does this mean that the resounding legacy of the Second Viennese
School is never heard? No, but because of disproportionately limited exposure
to audiences, this legacy makes little or no lasting impression. Recently on the
Schoenberg Ensemble Anniversary Concert (From 1976 to 1989, this group served
as home base to the Schoenberg Quartet; for more information on this, see Niek
Nelissen's essay.), two compositions by Webern appeared like two limp leaves of
lettuce stuck in the middle of a greasy Russian sandwich; consequently, the entire
music press utterly ignored these two pieces, which leads me to doubt the effect
that Webern had on the audience present that evening.
Fortunately, there are always favourable exceptions that prove the rule. One of
these exceptions is the Schoenberg Quartet, which has unceasingly promoted the
legacy of the Second Viennese School for a quarter of a century now, in addition
to approximately 130 other compositions. The quartet has frequently had to swim
against the stream in doing so, it being a healthy fish (and these swim against
the stream, after all!). A single example illustrates this point. It is sufficiently
revealing that the members of the Schoenberg Quartet once invested no less than
20,000 guilders of their own money to realise a project involving Schoenberg's
Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte, as not a single government body was willing to lend
them its financial support! This project subsequently resulted in fourteen concerts
in three countries (of which the first performance was given at the Holland Festival,
followed by performances in London and Lucerne), was recorded for Dutch television,
broadcast as part of the celebration of Remembrance Day and released on CD. In
any case, the collective uvre of the four Viennese masters (The Schoenberg
Quartet consistently includes Alexander Zemlinsky in this group, which I wholeheartedly
endorse.) constitutes the core repertoire to which it repeatedly returns. The
often punishingly difficult works of these masters-among these, less accessible
works which, unfortunately, are rarely programmed by other groups as a result-are
presented by the Schoenberg Quartet with the same ease that the Melos, Borodin
or Vermeer Quartets would present works by Haydn, Beethoven or Mozart. And by
this, I do not limit the discussion simply to Schoenberg's "No. 1 Hit,"
Verklärte Nacht; on the contrary, I make reference to compositions
like his deeply probing, hallucinatory String Trio, as well as his enthralling
Fourth String Quartet, both of which the Schoenberg Quartet has so often played
over the last twenty-five years. To be precise, no fewer than 47 (!) and 38 times,
which, as regards the String Trio, is considerably more often than even Verklärte
Nacht (39 times). Pieces like Webern's Fünf Sätze (51 times!),
Sechs Bagatellen (32 times) and even the String Quartet, Op. 28 (17 times)
also get high marks, which can likewise be said for both of Berg's quartets (the
String Quartet, Op. 3, 26 times to date and the Lyric Suite, 32 times).
It goes without saying that so many performances have ultimately led to an extremely
high level of performance-one can, in fact, speak of the evolution of a performance-practice
tradition. This is best evidenced not only by the countless concerts both in the
Netherlands and abroad given by the Schoenberg Quartet, but also by a recent gigantic
CD production, which comprises the complete works for strings by Schoenberg, Berg,
Webern and Zemlinsky, recorded on the British label, Chandos. Because it includes
several interesting phonographic firsts, this is a unique project, which can be
seen as supplementing earlier recordings such as the legendary interpretations
of the Juilliard Quartet and the LaSalle Quartet, for instance. These include
arrangements for string quartet or alternatively string quintet of Schoenberg's
Sechs kleine Klavierstücke and his Wind Quintet arranged by Guittart;
the song Hier ist Friede from the Altenberglieder, originally scored
for soprano and large orchestra and transcribed by Berg for violin, cello, piano
and harmonium; and Guittart's arrangement for viola and piano of Berg's Vier
Stücke, Op. 5. Additionally, the listener encounters compositions in
this monumental release that are missing in the recordings made by the Juilliard
and LaSalle Quartets: the Chamber Symphony, Op. 9, arranged by Webern, and Schoenberg's
Concerto for String Quartet and Orchestra, as well as the duos like Schoenberg's
Phantasy for violin and piano, Webern's Opus 7 for violin and piano and
his Sonata and Opus 11 for cello and piano.
Mythicisation
Although the point here is not simply to recite a laundry list, the high-minded
artistic and moral position of the Schoenberg Quartet has, judging from the above,
been made sufficiently clear; furthermore, the "zeal" (and I mean this
only in a positive sense) that the group's members possess is undeniable. Through
concertising, the quartet hopes to dispel once and for all such notions as "new,"
"modern" and "contemporary," which often still accompany the
music of the turn of the twentieth century in general, and the music of Schoenberg,
Berg, Webern and Zemlinsky in particular. The quartet also hopes that the general
concert-going public will realise that this music now in fact belongs to the canon
of standard concert repertoire-in other words, that it has become "classical
music." In actuality, however, the listener's opportunity to hear the music
of the Second Viennese School in Dutch concert halls is, unfortunately, not at
all a matter of course. With the occasional exception, most of the symphony orchestras
generally go out of their way to avoid this music and without the efforts of the
Schoenberg Quartet, the names Schoenberg, Berg, Webern and Zemlinsky would, on
the whole, be conspicuously absent from chamber-music series. All of this because
the concert-hall and chamber-music society directors and programmers simply do
not view the lack of this extremely important music as a loss. On the contrary,
some halls purposefully continue to hold this repertoire (and its advocates) at
bay, a stark contrast to their stocking up on quartets by Dmitri Shostakovich-preferably
by the cartload and all in one go-, Antonín Dvorák, Bedrich Smetana
and even Béla Bartók. The choice of Bartók here is highly
peculiar, as the musical language of this Hungarian master is considerably grimmer
and more dissonant than that of the Second Viennese School (Webern's response
to Bartók's Fourth String Quartet: "I find it too cacophonous.").
As for its aforementioned "zeal," the Schoenberg Quartet has always
practised what it preaches. I hereby call the reader's attention to the numerous
thematic series both in the Netherlands and abroad (in Los Angeles, Rome and Padua,
among others) which the quartet has launched. During the last three seasons, the
quartet has successively presented Schoenberg's complete works for strings, the
complete works for strings by Zemlinsky, Berg and Webern, as well as-in collaboration
with the Mondriaan Quartet-the six string quartets of Bartók in connection
with predecessors, contemporaries and successors. The misunderstanding of the
music of the "new" Viennese has everything to do, of course, with its
bizarre mythicisation for which programmers, composers, performing musicians (and,
unfortunately, concert-going audiences accordingly) are responsible in relation
to the twelve-tone technique and to serialism, its direct result, after the Second
World War. I might add that certain Dutch composers exhibit a greater need than
their foreign colleagues do to prove that they were "right" by asserting
a neo-Romantic or neo-tonal position, thereby opposing serialism.
Consciousness
Schoenberg's music is, in fact, just as accessible or inaccessible as that of
Beethoven, Bartók, Bach or Boulez, for instance. This degree of accessibility
cannot merely be chalked up to a compositional method, but rather is rooted in
the intrinsic, universal value and the enduring importance of their music. The
work ethic of the Schoenberg Quartet is founded in the consciousness of this knowledge;
the ensemble hereby operates in accordance with the ideals of its eponym. Unlike
most of his contemporaries, Schoenberg himself was convinced that his music constituted
not so much a break with tradition as a logical consequence of tradition; the
same applies to Berg and particularly to Webern, mutatis mutandis. If one
must speak of a break with tradition, then-to paraphrase Pierre Boulez freely-one
should not look to the turn of the twentieth century, but rather to Beethoven's
late string quartets. It should, therefore, come as no surprise that these quartets
formed essential elements of Schoenberg's analysis and composition lessons, nor
that, during a period of its development, the Schoenberg Quartet combined works
like the String Trio and the First and Fourth Quartets with Beethoven's Opuses
132 and 135. Particularly in Opus 135 during the opening of the first movement,
an almost "athematic" division of melodic material over the four parts
is heard, foreshadowing an approach that would become customary in twelve-tone
treatment. In any case, the analogy between Beethoven and Schoenberg is unmistakably
obvious. If I may presume to offer the fêted string quartet my opinion-it
is, therefore, unfortunate that Beethoven is no longer part of the Schoenberg
Quartet's repertoire. This can be attributed to the frictions that this music
provokes among the musicians of the quartet. Moreover, they believe that so many
other quartets have already rendered these works in an exemplary manner. I should
like to counter by pointing out that it is precisely those frictions that are
typical of Beethoven's late quartets, just as they are also characteristic
in a different way of Schoenberg's work. Elements in Beethoven's music can, on
the contrary, be uncovered through juxtaposition with Schoenberg's, something
other quartets do not achieve with their often polished interpretations. Most
importantly, one must keep in mind Schoenberg's belief that art was to serve
truth, not so much beauty. It would certainly prove interesting, should an
ensemble such as the Schoenberg Quartet-after having performed so much twentieth-century
music for such a long time-go back to Beethoven, particularly to the aforementioned
string quartets and, if I may be so bold as to express a most heartfelt wish,
Opus 131-perhaps the most innovative piece of music Beethoven ever wrote for four
string instruments. It constitutes a lone monument in the chamber-music repertoire
which I would be only too delighted to hear rendered by the Schoenberg Quartet.
Versatility
What is it, in fact, that makes the Schoenberg Quartet's programming so captivating?
Foremost, the unmistakable versatility that enables the quartet to incorporate
compositions from various fashionable circles into its repertoire without hesitation-with
the understanding that this takes place in such a way that a chemical reaction
is induced by means of calibration and association within the framework of programming,
thereby negating any "fashionable" element that once may have been present.
Who, after all, would have conceived of pairing Shostakovich with Vermeulen or
Van Vlijmen on the same concert? Or Louis Andriessen with Berg, Hindemith, Shostakovich,
Webern or Schoenberg? Another example of such rock-solid programming is the foursome
Pijper-Webern-Zemlinsky-Schumann. If Pijper is even programmed in the Netherlands
at all, it is generally in combination with Dutch contemporaries who were closely
related to him, ensuring that the outcome is, at best, of documentary value. While
this may be justifiable from an "historical" perspective, one is hardly
acting in the interests of Pijper's music. Conversely, Pijper's compatibility
with Webern is much more overt, not only in view of the fact that it was Pijper
of all people who discovered Webern for the Netherlands. This was the same Pijper
who, although highly critical of the twelve-tone technique, was the first and
only Dutchman to recognise the importance of Webern (and of Schoenberg and Berg!)
nonetheless, feeling no need at all to oppose these masters. All of this goes
to show that the Schoenberg Quartet certainly has more than one string in its
bow. This is indisputably evidenced by the 165 compositions it has performed over
the last twenty-five years-and, naturally, by its colourful discography. No fewer
than seventeen world premieres and twenty-seven Dutch premieres: something to
be proud of. The first category comprises several early works by Schoenberg, among
which Scherzo and Trio and the Presto, but also two interesting mature compositions
by Zemlinsky, as well as the aforementioned, widely talked-about arrangement of
Schoenberg's Wind Quintet (internationally, the least performed of his works).
The group also performs a good deal of Dutch music, particularly that which is
rarely, if ever, performed by other musicians. Some of the first to spring to
mind are Topos Teleios by the recently deceased Jos Kunst and the Quintetto
per archi by Van Vlijmen, whose Trimurti the Schoenberg Quartet has
also given unforgettable performances of, as can be witnessed from its CD recording.
Among the Dutch premieres the group has given are Zemlinsky's First and Second
Quartets, some four pieces by Erwin Schulhoff-including his magnificent Sextet-,
works by Bruno Maderna, Leon Kirchner, Schoenberg (Die Eiserne Brigade
and Ein Stelldichein), Hindemith and Conlon Nancarrow. Furthermore, within
the framework of its programming, the group strives to achieve the best balance
possible between the different components of its repertoire; in addition to Beethoven,
the Schoenberg Quartet has focused its attention on Schumann (Second String Quartet,
Piano Quintet), Brahms (Clarinet Quintet) and Reger (Clarinet Quintet). French
music is also well represented: in addition to the quartets of César Franck,
Claude Debussy and Maurice Ravel and the Concerto for Piano, Violin and String
Quartet by Ernest Chausson, the Schoenberg Quartet has befriended Henri Dutilleux's
Ainsi la nuit (to the sheer delight of the composer himself). Additionally,
it contributed to the recording of the complete chamber music of Albert Roussel,
whose work also receives insufficient international attention. These facts indisputably
reveal that the Schoenberg Quartet enjoys frequent collaboration with other musicians-to
be precise, in no less than half of the concerts it gives.
Optimum dissemination of culture
Interestingly, relatively late in its development-that is, well after Shostakovich
had been heralded as the champion of twentieth-century music on the Dutch
music scene-, the Schoenberg Quartet decided to play three of this composer's
late string quartets. Not as a reason to avoid performing any truly innovative
twentieth-century music; on the contrary, to be able to combine these works coherently
and in a well-conceived manner with works like the airtight String Quartet by
Vermeulen or the Quintetto per archi of Van Vlijmen, for instance. Or,
certainly surprising, with Louis Andriessen's Facing Death and Berg's Lyric
Suite, or with Webern's Fünf Sätze, George Crumb's Black
Angels and Cage's Dream, Music for the Dance. Additionally, their rendering
of Shostakovich's Fifteenth String Quartet has led to many collaborative performances
with the Groep van Steen in an exceptional choreography. Such creative and highly
uncustomary combinations are more often the rule than the exception when it comes
to the Schoenberg Quartet. The result is a performance of Shostakovich's music,
which, despite the overkill observed among Dutch chamber-music and orchestra series
with respect to this music (I call the reader's attention in particular to the
Robeco Summer Concerts and the season pamphlet of the Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra.),
is anything but redundant. The Shostakovich that the quartet produces is unadorned
and "filtered" by a performance practice shaped by the Second Viennese
School and by other leading twentieth-century composers. Consequently, the listener
might qualify this Shostakovich as more modern and more "naked" in comparison
with most other interpretations. Whoever thinks that such performances can be
heard only in the Randstad is sorely mistaken. The Schoenberg Quartet cannot be
charged with "performance-venue discrimination." A programme consisting
of works by Shostakovich, Vermeulen and Van Vlijmen could just as conceivably
be heard at Kunsthuis 13 in Velp or the Muziekkring in Heerhugowaard as it could
in the Recital Hall of the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam or at the Almeida Festival
in London.
Wherein lies the essence of the attitude held by the members of the Schoenberg
Quartet toward the music resting before them on their stands? In the great responsibility
with which they critically tend to the legacy. All of this is rooted in an ethic
inspired by Schoenberg, which can be witnessed particularly in the group's minute
attention to every detail in the score. The number of misprints and inaccuracies
(roughly 600, among which were very serious omissions!) that they found in Ravel's
String Quartet alone would certainly justify a newly annotated edition of this
work. Scholarship, however, does not constitute a goal for the Schoenberg Quartet
but, instead, represents a kind of elixir for the performance-practice tradition
of which it is a part. This elixir can offer music eternal youth, lending a newness
to every performance for the listener. This brings us to the crux of what constitutes
the honoured Quartet's programming objective: bringing the "eternally new"
to the surface-something entirely different from indulging in passing fancies,
which is more prevalent in contemporary Dutch musical life than ever before.
Conquest
All in all, the Schoenberg Quartet can look back on the last twenty-five years
with gratitude and a sense of satisfaction. They have achieved much and for this
reason, other chamber-music ensembles will-and should be!-envious of this group.
Although conceit generally abounds in such spheres, this cannot be said of the
Schoenberg Quartet. Having said this, I do hope and trust that the group will
substantially expand its repertoire in the coming years. The string quartets of
the American composer Elliott Carter come to mind, for instance, whose music,
I believe, seems to have been written for this group in view of its rich Schoenbergian
complexity and expressivity. Furthermore, these compositions lend themselves admirably
to the Schoenberg Quartet's diverse and widely varied programmatic formulas. Additionally,
I eagerly look forward to its interpretations of Hans Werner Henze's quartets,
the Second String Quartet of Charles Ives, A Way a Lone by Toru Takemitsu
and finally Boulez's Livre pour cordes, which, despite its status as a
"work in progress," is certainly performable and can be programmed in
an intriguing way. I would also be delighted to hear Witold Lutoslawski's dramatic
String Quartet, together with György Ligeti's Second String Quartet, the
most impressive continuation of Bartók's string quartets. And why not Gottfried
Michael Koenig's untouched, wrathful but also mysteriously obsessive Streichquartett?
Or Michael von Biel's quartet? In addition, there are composers both in the Netherlands
and abroad who could be commissioned to write pieces for the group. All of this
perhaps in combination with more classical work (Fortunately, the string quintets
of Bruckner and Brahms with two violas are also some of the quartet's most sincere
aspirations-talk about Viennese!), which, it is hoped, will assist the quartet
in its attempts to "conquer" some of the more traditionally oriented
performance venues. Perhaps as an alternative to. De klap op de vuurpijl
by Willem Breuker, whose octet www.brandhout.nl
has resulted in a combined commission by the Schoenberg and Mondriaan Quartets,
the Schoenberg Quartet might consider organising a series of whimsical New Year's
Day concerts. If only to demonstrate that the music of Johann Strauss and his
peers does not differ so substantially in its vocabulary from that of Schoenberg,
Brahms, Berg, Webern, Bruckner, Schubert or Mahler (By this, I am not referring
to compositional techniques.). No matter how accessible or esoteric, the Schoenberg
Quartet has, for the last quarter of a century, fought tirelessly for a high-minded
artistic morality; in its pursuit, it has set an example for many ensembles and
orchestras during a period in which the effects of cultural decay cannot be overemphasised.
It is this author's fervent hope that the group will continue on this path for
many years to come to the greater glory of both Dutch music and musical life at
the international level.
Muse Translations: Josh Dillon
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