The Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center paid a friendly visit to Chamber Music Sedona on Sunday, March 23, represented by violinists Julian Rhee and Arnaud Sussman, violist Paul Neubauer, cellist Sterling Elliott, bassist Anthony Manzo and pianist Wu Han, who presented a two-composer concert at the Sedona Performing Arts Center that was rich in spectacular virtuosity.
As they began, Han remarked that going to chamber music on a Sunday afternoon is “one of the most civilizing things that one can do.”
Opening Pieces
For the first half of the program, which had been structured around Franz Schubert’s Trout Quintet, the Lincoln Center crew played Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Why? Because, Han said, Schubert loved Mozart. And Mozart himself had rather enjoyed copying and playing with the works of others, which has led to occasional confusion in certain instances, such as the case of the spurious Symphony No. 37 — actually Michael Haydn’s No. 28. Fortunately, the attribution to Mozart of the K. 404a arrangement of Wilhelm Friedemann Bach’s Fugue in F Minor for Violin, Viola and Cello was more securely attached before Sussman, Neubauer and Elliott attempted it.
Anchored by the cello and viola, which restrained the violin’s efforts to soar high, the set of fugues proved to be both intellectual and comfortable with delicate shades of thoughtfulness. Visually, the viewer’s eye was drawn to Elliott’s animated approach at the center of the trio. Only the last few notes bore any resemblance to the typical work of W.F. Bach’s illustrious and over-exploited father; instead, the music exhibited a mature, even oaken, character, with the sort of assurance to it usually associated with eighteenth century England.
Rhee and Manzo then swapped with Elliott for an Adagio and Fugue in C Minor, K. 546, actually written by Mozart himself. Manzo propelled the adagio forward with an astonishingly penetrating low drone from the bass, which, when topped off with shrill, thin playing from his colleagues, created a very modern feel. The viola in particular took on the role of uncertain urban explorer wandering in the shadows of a deserted house. The fugue, on the other hand, reflected the styles of both Mozart and Johann Sebastian Bach. It was striving and raw, a St. Vitus’ dance in distinction to the misty tiptoeing of the adagio, with a recurrent theme that kept pushing itself to the surface through the rococo violin curlicues that surrounded it.
Piano Quartet
In due course, Han joined the string players for Mozart’s second piano quartet, K. 493, and delightedly informed her audience that it was not only Mozart’s second piano quintet, but also the second piano quartet ever written, period.
It was also written, she said, after Mozart’s publisher, Franz Anton Hoffmeister, had rejected Mozart’s first piano quartet as too complicated for amateur musicians, thereby naturally inducing Mozart to write something even more complicated.
The quartet was very much Han’s show, as she brought considerable personality and flair to the keyboard, adding a distinctive individuality and immediacy to her playing, in part through subtle hints of phrasing and articulation, that kept the listeners on the edges of their seats. She made it personal and thereby provided a simultaneous illustration of two points on which she had commented during her opening remarks: How chamber music lets you be your own boss, unlike playing in an orchestra, and how “it’s the best democratic process. If you’re not nice, nobody wants to play with you.” The latter element was also on display in her exchanges with the violin in the first and third movements of the quartet, who just couldn’t resist teasing the piano.
As for the musical structure of the quartet, the first movement had the strings saying one thing with warm complacency and the piano saying something very different and jaunty as it played the role of an audacious pupil disturbing a trio of venerable professors slightly alarmed by its forwardness and vivacity. The introduction and climax exhibited almost overwhelming energy. By the second movement, the various instrumental characters had reached a gentle agreement and were in no hurry to get anywhere, being busy exchanging refined compliments instead. The third movement, an allegretto, was bouncy from the outset, with the musicians bouncing too and the piano sparkling like sunshine on moving water, and the climax was pure cold fire, clean and invigorating. In a remarkable departure for any piano composition with accompaniment, and especially for any piano composition of any kind by Mozart, it was the piano that remained optimistic and smiling throughout the piece and pulled the strings back from dips into moodiness. Contra Hoffmeister, who should have known better, that aspect of the work was exactly what did in fact make it amateur music, something light and playful that a musician and a listener could both enjoy, rather than a composer’s self-conscious angst flooding out through the keyboard.
Trout Quartet
For the Trout Quintet, it developed, the New York delegation had even dressed for the occasion, with touches of teal and turquoise. Rhee took the first chair, looking somewhat like Woody Allen as Jimmy Bond with his thick glasses and slight stoop, in contrast to Han’s literally glittering presentation — but the Schubert was his showcase as the Mozart had been hers. The quintet is in effect a conversation among voices in three parts, piano, violin and supporting strings, with most of the primary interplay taking place between the first two. Rhee seemed to almost float above his seat as he played the 1699 “Lady Tennant” Stradivarius, giving the impression that the sound originated merely from his caress of the instrument, only to snap down on repeated series of flickering chords with a fierce bite. In the second movement, a stressed andante, the quintet’s depth and complexity came from the elaborate runs and trills that Rhee contributed, while the jewel-like scherzo that followed and completely rejected the andante in its effervescent, iridescent fervor required that he produce a still more brilliant technique, which he did.
The repeated alternation between wistfulness and cheer in the andantino was interrupted at one stage by an almost bullying variation that inserted itself into an otherwise placid moment, while at another Elliott had a nice reflective passage for the cello. The smoothness of Rhee’s fingering reached unreal levels, and the characterization that he and Han achieved in combination again reminded the audience of her earlier remarks on both the independence and consensually democratic nature of chamber music, given their complementary speed and colorings. Individualism as compatible with cooperation. As for the finale, marked allegro giusto, its sedate opening gave way to a swinging, tangled strain of battle between fisher and fish that admirably displayed the Lincoln Center musicians’ riveting synchronization. It ended as expected — except that the ending was in fact a false finish and they repeated the entire movement, providing a bright, taut sound all the way. Sheer artistry.
Chamber Music Sedona’s final concert of the 2024-25 season will take place on Sunday, April 13, when they host the Pinchas Zukerman Trio.
