Critic’s Notebook: Pavel Haas Quartet Makes the Ears Dance in an All-Czech Program

Also reviewed for Die Presse: Tiefenbeglückender Ohrentanz, gänzlich tschechisch: Bekanntes Ungehörtes, unerhört Beliebtes: Das Pavel Haas Quartet im Musikverein, mit einem Abend zum Schwärmen

Bohuslav Martinů String Quartets 2, 3, 5, 7 Pavel Haas Quartet (Supraphon, 2025) US | UK | DE

Bedrich Smetana The String Quartets Pavel Haas Quartet (Supraphon, 2015) US | UK | DE

Raving in Czech

The Known-unheard and outrageously popular: the Pavel Haas Quartet and an evening of chamber music to make your ears swoon

What a program — on paper alone. Who? One of the most celebrated string quartets of our time, Prague's Pavel Haas Quartet. Where? The Muskverein's Brahms-Saal. What? An entirely Czech program, running from the sole string quartet of the short-lived Vítězslava Kaprálová (1935) through Bohuslav Martinů's Fifth Quartet (1938) to that most reliable of pleasures, Antonín Dvořák's Fourteenth and last quartet, in A-flat major, op. 105 (1895). Kaprálová's music, barely two dozen works in total, has been rediscovered in spasmodically over the decades, tenaciously if intermittently — but one does not actually get to hear it very often. (Or else it's hidden in well-meaning but generally dismal "look: Women composers!" programs that are such an ironic, unintended bane to composers that happen to have been women.) This is a substantial three-movement quartet of some twenty minutes, written by a twenty-year-old nearing the end of her studies in Brno: rhythmic, mobile, tonal, but facing boldly forward — unsurprisingly in the musical orbit of Schulhoff, Pavel Haas, and Martinů. Certain works carry a luminous seriousness and quality that shimmers through them; Kaprálová's op.8 is one of those.

The Fifth Quartet of Martinů was not chosen as a companion piece, merely because it's a sensationally effective work at the intersection of Bartók, Shostakovich, and Janáček, and (like all of Martinů's quartets, which the Pavel Haas Quartet is currently recording for Supraphon) deserves to be far better known. Kaprálová is also the direct inspiration for the piece: she was Martinů's student in Paris for three years — and thereafter, in all likelihood, his lover. Think of it as Martinů's equivalent of Janáček's "Intimate Letters" — quartet. The work rocks from the opening bar with an irresistibility that seems to want to carry the momentum of Kaprálová's dynamic finale straight into itself. The relentless climaxes of the partially spooky Adagio, each time the Pavel Haas Quartet allowed them to relax, offered a delicious shiver of complex lyricism. As fragile as the movement dissolves, so wild does the Allegro vivo return — with maximum, ferocious forward thrust. Feet and heads bobbed in the audience, pretty much universally. The viola-throaty tone of the first violin in the finale's Lento feigned relaxation before the irresistible surge of the Allegro that followed.

Throughout all, one didn't actually pay all that much attention to the quartet's playing as such — because it seems to function by itself, entirely naturally: what one hears is not interpretation but music. Here, as in the Dvořák — whose fugal opening gradually yields to the composer's characteristic melodic abundance — it was the tonal richness of the ensemble that was so arresting. This isn't some pretty-playing style they indulge in, but a style that adapts, like an octopus, to its musical environment as needed: pallid, wild, sweet, spiky — irresistible. One could look elsewhere for finer individualists: the second violin in the Quatuor Ébène, the viola in the Belcea Quartet, the Cuarteto Casals' cello. But anyone who can make your ears dance the way this quartet did in the Dvořák is offering something singular — and seems to make this argument: one good string quartet evening is worth ten orchestral concerts, so sustainably and deeply satisfying are these hours.

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Notes from the 2025 Salzburg Festival ( 5 ) Cuarteto Casals in Shostakovich

Salzburg Festival • Chamber Music • Cuarteto Casals

Also published in Die Presse: Serenade zum Todestag von Schostakowitsch: Cuarteto Casals in Salzburg

D.Shostakovich, The String Quartets (v.1), Cuarteto Casals Harmonia Mundi D.Shostakovich, The String Quartets (v.2), Cuarteto Casals Harmonia Mundi D.Shostakovich, The String Quartets (v.3), Cuarteto Casals Harmonia Mundi

Death Becomes them: Shostakovich Quartets in Salzburg

The Cuarteto Casals scored with dark sonority rather than hard edges in their DSCH-dedicated chamber music recital

Monday evening at the Salzburg Festival brought another birthday serenade for Shostakovich’s 50^th death anniversary at the Mozarteum Hall – from the Cuarteto Casals. They promised three string quartets. Only three? After all, the Mandelring Quartet (CD reviews here, here, and here) still played all 15 quartets at the Festival back in 2011! (Reviewed on ionarts here.) But one doesn't want to be immoderate, and with Quartets 1, 8, and 15 – i.e. the first, last, and most famous – the selection was promising enough.

All the more so since there are no “early” string quartets with DSCH: When the 32-year-old Shostakovich took his first crack at the genre, with op.49, he was already an experienced composer with one suppressed and four performed symphonies plus two operas under his belt. The Lady Macbeth scandal that had brought him to the edge of the Gulag, and the ‘resurrection’ thanks to the Fifth Symphony, lay behind him. It should not surprise, then, that this first quartet is immediately a masterwork – as if it had sprung, Pallas-Athena-like, from Zeus’s head.

Right away, the Cuarteto Casals’ gloriously solid, perpetually beautiful, expressive sound – from top to bottom, first violin to cello – makes quite an impression. Cellist Arnau Tomàs (check out his Bach!!!) handled his part with resonant, bearish authority. Wonderful, the woody, round-cheeked timbre of Cristina Cordero’s viola. Fascinating the mediating work of second violinist Abel Tomàs. And fitting excellently into the picture: the dark-timbred first violin of Vera Martínez Mehner. One doesn’t miss the rougher approach that has a long tradition in these works at all, because the Spanish quartet’s lyricism, while luxurious, never seems superficial. Nor did it ever feel like the quartet was rounding the edges too much – a criticism that might be (though it doesn’t have to be) made of the Mandelrings. Small and infrequent intonation wobbles couldn’t distract amidst the astonishment over the sound.

That the Eighth Quartet is so much better known than the others does, in a way, surprise, since they all seem equally good. Or more evenly superb than the symphonies, anyway. On the other hand, it doesn’t take much to make the difference between hit and rarity, icon and footnote. (Are, for example, Mozart’s symphonies really as much better than those of Vanhal and Mysliveček as the fame gradient would have us believe?) But perhaps it’s also the dark vein of op.110 – so fitting the clichéd image of DSCH – that fascinates us, seeing that it appears to reflect the composer’s suffering and disguised resistance in Soviet terror…

And it was melancholy-gripping, what the Cuarteto Casals – currently recording all the quartets for Harmonia Mundi (see the Shostakovich String Quartet Survey) – delivered. “If his 15 symphonies are, according to the composer, ‘gravestones’”, writes Robert Reilly in Surprised by Beauty, “then the quartets are the flowers he lays on the graves.” The Cuarteto Casals’ tone – sadly beautiful and mellow – suits this poetry of suffering well.

One could title the six slow, relentless, embittered movements of op.144 with: “The Six Last Words of the Survivor”. Even more so than with Haydn, this deceleration on Shostakovich’s part is a gutsy, deliberate, and pointed imposition on the listener. The interpreters’ long lines made concentration easy, though, thanks to the unremitting inner tension amid this sustained slowness, and the pinch of Haydnesque mischief. The encore from the Third String Quartet, meanwhile, was merciless and had a symphonic earthiness about it. Fabulous, all, and very promising as far as their recordings are concerned.

Vera Martínez Mehner (Violine), Abel Tomàs (Violine), Arnau Tomàs (Violoncello), Cristina Cordero (Viola). SF / Marco Borrelli

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Critic’s Notebook: Superstar Trio on Chamber-Music Tour

Lisa Batiashvili,© Chris Singer

Also published in Die Presse: Kammermusik: Diese Kombo hat es in sich

Antonín Dvořákr Complete Piano Trios Panenka/Suk/Chuchro Supraphon US | UK | DE

Antonín Dvořákr Complete Piano Trios Beaux Arts Trio Philips/Decca US | UK | DE

Antonín Dvořákr Piano Trios Op.65 & 90 Tetzlaff2/Vogt Ondine US | UK | DE

Lisa Batiashvili, Gautier Capuçon, and Jean-Yves Thibaudet make a better-than expected Trio

It doesn’t always work: superstars doing chamber music in the grand halls of classical music. This combo, though, had something going for itself.

Chamber music in large halls is, on the one hand, a wonderful thing — a sign that this genre, hard to sell but the beating heart of classical music, can still draw a crowd. On the other hand, such music is usually less at home in places like the Great Hall of the Konzerthaus than, in it would be in its smaller, perfectly suited Mozart Hall, for example. But when soloists with the star power of Lisa Batiashvili, Gautier Capuçon and Jean-Yves Thibaudet appear together, compromises must be made.

That this one turned out not to be much of a compromise at all was remarkable — and owed to the trio’s balanced playing. No one held back, no one dominated, there were no hiearchic shenanigans, and no one got lost in precious detail. Whether in the youthful works of the first half — Debussy and Shostakovich’s early trios — or in the second, devoted entirely to Dvořák’s mature F-minor Trio Op. 65 (who was, after all, a venerable 42 when he wrote it).

The Dvořák, cleanly and spiritedly played, served as another reminder that his chamber music never really disappoints — at least not when, as here (no small feat for a team of soloists), the playing is genuinely ensemble-minded: relaxed in the Poco adagio, varied in the finale, and fleet in the Mendelssohn-like scherzo of the encore, which was played entirely in keeping with Dvořák’s spirit.

Even more intriguing were the first two pieces, however, where Batiashvili and Capuçon could truly shine: she full-bodied and rhytmically steady-as-a-rock, he slightly sentimental, bittersweet, elegant — both superbly attuned to each other. That Thibaudet sometimes drifted toward the role of accompanist rather than full creative collaborator, or that his clarity occasionally suffered from the brisk tempos, mattered little at this level of overall excellence.


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Notes from the 2025 Salzburg Festival ( 2 ) Alexander Malofeev and María Dueñas in Recital

Salzburg Festival • Recitals • Malofeev & Dueñas

Also published in Die Presse: Begeisternd: María Dueñas und Alexander Malofeev im Mozarteum

Unlikely Duo at the Mozarteum

On paper, Alexander Malofeev and María Dueñas have only their age in common. In concert, though, the quiet, pale-blond Russian at the piano and the savvy Spanish violinist made for an unexpectedly effective musical pairing.

Kids at work: Malofeev is 23, Dueñas 22, and when Karol Szymanowski wrote his Violin Sonata in D minor, Op. 9, the Polish composer was just 21. The three met , not for the first time, at the Salzburg Festival soloist recital in the Great Hall of the Mozarteum – and they delighted the audience. Dueñas, with her wild, expressive tone — a touch of viola-like smokiness, high intensity, and more than a hint of risk (or at least the impression of it) — threw herself irresistibly into her part, lips pursed, eyes shut tight. A bit of show? Surely. But who would begrudge her.

The lanky, long-limbed Malofeev, sitting at the Steinway like the Peanuts’ Schroeder, fingered a surprising amount of music from his score. One wanted to listen to him every bit as much as to her, as seemingly simple accompaniments were turned into impressionistic studies or sounded as if he were improvising them on the spot.

That the young man would impress was no surprise, after causing a stir at the Musikverein last February (“Critic’s Notebook: Alexander Malofeev gives his recital debut in Vienna”). He is surely one of the most exciting, promising pianists of his — already well-stocked with good pianists — generation. María Dueñas, on the other hand, had so far made her mark with a meticulously planned and marketed career, stoked by media hype and record contracts, helped by rich parents and dusted with pristine “vanilla cupcake” playing (“Wiener Symphoniker: 16er-Blech und die ‚Fünfte von Brahms‘“). Musical character, however, less so.

That this combination should succeed was by no means a given when the concert was booked — though a nearly identical program intermittently performed in New York’s Weill Recital Hall had raised hopes. In any case, this recital (like most in the “Soloists’ Concerts” series) is not an indigenous Festival event but at best an ornamental garnish, that pretty much anyone can garnish their musical with, assuming they knock at the right agency’s door. That’s neither good nor bad per se; it all depends on the combination. Any Wiener Schnitzel with potato salad benefits from a touch of parsley. But only parsley — musical commodity fare — makes for a dull plate. See Grafenegg.

After the youthfully-exuberant Szymanowski — already cheered frenetically by the (nearly as) youthful crowd on the balcony — things continued promisingly with Debussy’s swan song, his G minor Sonata, written just before the composer’s death. An earthy note came into play, here, not the cliché of ether, but variety and depth. In this work, as in the first two movements of the concluding, massive César Franck A-major Sonata, Dueñas impressed not only with the energy of her playing but also with her kaleidoscope of timbres: smoky, delicate, hefty by turns.

The third movement’s hectic episodes seemed a bit aimless, and in the finale Dueñas’s personal touch — the variety that had benefited the music so far — gave way to a clean, somewhat sharp and loud tone, as if she were intent on bringing the final stretch home without mishap. But this did not diminish the overall impression — and the vociferous audience refused to let the duo go until after a third encore, among them Piazzolla, and an arrangement of Richard Strauss’s “Morgen”, tenderly, almost hesitantly accompanied by Malofeev.

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#ClassicalDiscoveries: The Podcast. Episode 018 - Penderecki: A Life in Four Quartets

Welcome to #ClassicalDiscoveries. Here is a little introduction to who we are and what we would like to achive at the first (or, in a nod to Bruckner, "double-zeroëth" episode). Your comments, criticism, and suggestions remain most welcome, of whatever nature they may be. Now here’s Episode 018, which I believe might be our best one yet! It attempts to cover the whole stylistic world of Krysztof Penderecki in just over 70 minutes! Fear not, that’s not the length of our podcast today, it’s the time it takes to perform all his compositions involving string quartet and string trio. And they conveniently trace the composer’s startlingly divergent stylistic output, from the wild-as-it-comes 1960 String Quartet No.1 via the masterly String Trio to the romanticism of the Third and beyond..

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Dip Your Ears: No. 280 (DSCH, dogmatically pumped up)

D.Shostakovich 24 Preludes op.34, Chamber Sy. op.110a dogma chamber orchestra Mikhail Gurewitsch (CM) (M|DG SACD, 2013)

Shostakovich Strung Up

It’s rare enough to hear Shostakovich’s Twenty Four Preludes op.34 on disc (much less in recital). Much rarer still, but no less interesting, is it to hear the work—not to be mistaken for the increasingly popular 24 Preludes and Fugues, op. 87—set for string orchestra. The all-lower case dogma chamber orchestra took on the task and recorded Grigory Kochmar’s arrangement to marvelous, delightfully unsettling effect: A new angle on an unfamiliar work gives us de-facto brand new Shostakovich. Compared to that, the String Quartet No.8 in its souped-up version (basically a simpler version of Chamber Symphony op.110a), is familiar territory in which dogma faces and proudly meets the competition.

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