American Dvořák

Second in popularity only to the Ninth Symphony "From the New World," Dvorák's Twelfth String Quartet – which was dubbed the "American" Quartet by the public and media rather than the composer himself – is a work nearly synonymous with the composer's tenure in the United States. These were not the only two works inspired by his cross-sea voyage, however. The Thirteenth String Quartet in G major, Op. 106, though not imbued with the same folkloric characteristics, also came about following the composer's return from the States. The popularity of the "American" Quartet has resulted in a work that is arguably overplayed, making it difficult for new ensembles to find anything new or unique to say about it.

An imaginative mixture of the popular and the unusual. Barber’s only quartet has at its heart the famous Adagio for Strings: the latter is an arrangement of the second of the quartet’s two movements. That Adagio – which here benefits not only from the unfamiliarity of the chamber original but also from the Duke’s sensitively understated approach on their first recording for Collins Classics – is here surrounded by some captivating faster music (including a brief return to the opening Molto allegro’s ideas). And Robert Maycock’s excellent booklet notes hint at what those famous seven minutes of slow, sad passion in particular could really be said to be about: young homosexual love in the Austrian woods. Thirty years later, in 1966, another American in Europe, and still in his twenties, wrote his first string quartet, though it’s unlikely to be a direct reflection of love, this time in Paris.

After the excitement of hearing their bracing Bartok cycle (the Gramophone Record of the Year in 1989), I've found the Emerson's subsequent releases more than a little disappointing. ''Cold and abrasive'' was my verdict on their Beethoven/Schubert when I reviewed it for BBC Radio 3's ''Saturday Review'', and it stands. But the Smetana on this new disc is more encouraging.

Like Schubert, Dvorak turned to the string quartet early in his career, but in neither case is that a cue for lyrical flights on the subject of 'lifelong affinities'. Both had one sound practical reason for choosing this medium at the start of their careers: it was relatively easy to get quartet music played. The three complete quartets included in Vol. 1 (Nos. 1-3) show considerable facility in writing for strings (after all, Dvorak was a violinist), but it took him some time to arrive at a fully idiomatic quartet style: the first movement of No. 2 for instance wouldn't lose much by being orchestrated. Dvorak also had to learn to rein in his natural expansiveness: the Third Quartet spins out its modest material to an astonishing 70 minutes—the first movement alone is longer than the whole American Quartet! The outer movements of the No. 4 in E minor (Vol. 2) show him concentrating admirably, though the later shortened version of the central Andante religioso (popular as the Nocturne for strings) is a considerable improvement.

The threads that connect the string quartets on this "American album" by San Francisco's Cypress String Quartet are a little tenuous. The booklet speaks of the mixture of ethnic influences that has been characteristic of concert music in the U.S., but two of the works, Kevin Puts' Lento assai and Samuel Barber's String Quartet in B minor, Op. 11, do not use ethnic materials at all.

This whopping 40-disc set, which sells for very little, contains familiar performances of the major works, and most of them are quite good. Symphonies Nos. 1-7 feature Kosler and the Slovak Philharmonic–not a first-class orchestra, but a fine conductor who gets the ensemble to play idiomatically and well. The Eighth is Menuhin's (not bad), the Ninth Paavo Järvi's (quite good). The concertos come from Vox and feature Firkusny (piano), Nelsova (cello), and Ricci (violin).

The pairing of the String Quintet in G major, Op. 77, and the String Quartet in F major, Op. 96 ("American"), both major Dvorák chamber works, is a common one, but this one has several aspects setting it apart. Most distinctive is the sound from the German audiophile label MDG, working in an old abbey hall. The space is warm, clear, and perfectly sized for the music, in other words as close as you can get to actually having been there in the late 19th century when the music was first played. Moreover, the prolific Leipzig String Quartet, joined in Op. 77 by double bassist Alois Posch, delivers a superior performance of the "American" quintet that gets away from the overly consistent tone that mars so many Dvorák performances.