The last time the Tokyo String Quartet played here, back in October, it was short one member; second violinist Kakuei Ikeda was suddenly called home, and the quartet had to enlist two other fine performers and rearrange its program.
All members were present Tuesday at Ravinia Theatre, and the program-two quartets by Beethoven, one by Bartok-had the extra sheen that results from one special set of conditions: musicians who have played together for years and who have rehearsed their program frequently, recently and in depth.
This quartet does what only the best performers do; it gives you a revealing look at the composer himself.
The Quartet No. 4 in C Minor, one of the six quartets of Opus 18, is a portrait of Beethoven at 39. The first movement’s impression of sternness and strength-and stubbornness, given those table-pounding dominant-to-tonic chords-is undoubtedly a good likeness. The Scherzo, with its wooden-legged thumps that suddenly lighten into skips, could not have been written by anyone else. This is Beethoven having fun-a fugal dance where the dancers play a challenging game of follow-the-leader.
Bartok’s Quartet No. 6 is a churning, restless piece, full of directionless energy. It leaves you wondering how he did it. The piece is chiefly a series of unexpected happenings; it does not seem to follow any identifiable line or pattern of growth. And yet it holds your interest like the newest page turner from John Grisham.
Each of the four movements is marked “Mesto”-melancholy. Each has a mournful, low-voiced introduction, and in all but the last the mood changes drastically. But at the end, the melancholy only deepens to silence.
Each of the players-first violin Peter Oundjian, Ikeda, violist Kazuhide Isomura and cellist Sadao Harada-showed virtuosity of the first rank in this incredibly demanding piece. The volume and variety of sound they can extract from 16 strings is astonishing.
The Beethoven Quartet No. 16 in F Major, Opus 135, is his last completed work, and is a worthy memorial.
The first movement shows us an older man. Here the music proceeds with pauses; rests are a part of the texture. We hear a decided statement, then a moment of reflection and maybe some second thoughts; this Beethoven doesn’t jump headlong into things as he once did.
The second-movement Vivace is a curious combination of lightness plus driving determination. The third is among the great and glowing moments of music, a reverie of unearthly serenity.
The finale, based on two motives that Beethoven translated into words as “Must it be? It must be!”, does not sound all that resigned; it sounds cheerful and decisive. It is splendid music and was masterfully played.
