If you've read a Jane Austen novel then you'll know that it's often the plain sister who is possessed of the more subtle charms – you just need to take the time to get to know her better. The same thing might be said about Brahms's chamber music, which often occurs in sibling pairs. The G minor Piano Quartet No.1, Op. 25, with its feisty alla Zingarese finale and the late Clarinet Quintet, Op. 115, with its warm lyricism, are acknowledged gems of the repertoire. Their seemingly less attractive sisters, the neglected A major Piano Quartet No.2, Op. 26, and A minor Clarinet Trio, Op. 114, have at least as much to offer, they just require a little more patience on behalf of the listener. The Nash Ensemble have made the unusual decision of putting these two less immediate works together on the same disc. Do they pull it off?
The ensemble are at their best in the scherzos and the finales, where they are at least as good if not better than the recent competition. Their lightness of touch ensures that the details shine through, even in the busiest passages. This also extends to the darker material so that, although there is sufficient contrast to sustain interest, it still sounds like it belongs to the same sound-world. In the Clarinet Trio finale, the playful bounce of the sforzandos in the first subject is counterweighted by the lyricism of the second. Similarly, in the Quartet scherzo, they have judged the intermezzo quality of the opening material perfectly, dashing off Brahms's ambiguous shifting of the metre to great comic effect. They then capture the very different mood of the demonic trio – a canon redolent of Haydn's ‘Witches' Round' minuet for string quartet – without lurching back into the seriousness of the earlier movements.
The first two movements are less successful. To start with, neither of the slow movements is slow enough. There is, perhaps, some justification for this in the Quartet which is marked Poco Adagio (a little slow) and the easy-going character initially seems to work. The first clue that it is too fast are the liberties the pianist has to take with the sweeping arpeggios in order to squeeze them in. On its own this is not a mortal sin, but the perfunctory return of signature melody just over half way through settles the matter. Originally heard in the middle range piano with the strings accompanying, it is now given free rein in high cello and high violin. On their 1983 Deutsche Grammophon recording, Tamás Vásáry et al demonstrate how moving this passage can be – the espressivo string melody soaring achingly away. The string players of the Nash, by clinging mechanically to a piano accompaniment that is itself already plodding, remain firmly rooted to the ground.
It was perhaps the slow movement of the Clarinet Trio – this time marked Adagio – that Brahms's friend Eusebius Mandyczewski was thinking of when he wrote to him that ‘It is as though the instruments were in love with each other.' Unfortunately, in this operatic love duet between cello and clarinet, the two lovers have scant room to languish in the poignant harmonies or the gorgeous sonorities of their instruments.
The group are, however, forced into giving the two adagios this lighter feel by the starchy manner in which they approach the first movements. The lack of dynamism in the Quartet is partly due to the slow tempo and the decision to stick to it rigidly. A slightly pacier first subject – the second subject works well at this tempo – and a push towards the climaxes would have been more effective (and more authentic). But it has more to do with a monumental approach in which the movement is treated as series of granite slabs. The exposition climax should be electrifying and the climax of the movement (in the development) should engender blissful release – instead both are just loud.
The problem with the Clarinet Trio first movement reflects its subtler structure. As well as the usual division into themes in a linear fashion, there is also a superimposition of musical types: one, a vigorous allegro, continually tries to break through the surface of another, a feeling of autumnal resignation. For this affective counterpoint to be successful the two types of music need to be held in balance. Instead of playing up the tense relationship, however, the Nash have decided to plump wholeheartedly for the autumnal mood and toned down the more spirited component accordingly. Without the force field generated by the two opposing poles, the result is homogeneous and bland.
The answer to the question, then, is yes and no. As the Nash prove with their effervescent playing in the second halves of these pieces, Brahms need not be stodgy. And a less solemn style in the opening movement would, in each case, have left the way open for more expressive playing in the slow. Nevertheless, the fine recording, the technically faultless playing, and the local-level expression make this disc is as good as any recent release of either piece.
By Marc Brooks