SCHUBERT STRING QUARTET IN G MAJOR, FIRST MOVEMENT

Xandi van Dijk, violist of the Signum Quartet, uncovers the details of interpretation that help us relate to a movement of such broad scope

From Schubert String Quartet in G major, Op.161 D887. Urtext edition, paperbound. Ed. Egon Voss. Order no. HN 850. ISMN 979-0-2018-0850-5. €23.00. Printed with permission of G. Henle Verlag, München © 2010.

Every time one returns to a piece of music it should be with fresh ears and another layer of understanding, and we are grateful to have had the opportunity to do that many times with this work. Being the last and longest of Schubert’s string quartets, it has a justifiably weighty reputation. He intended it to pave the way for the great symphony he had been working on and there’s no doubt it is symphonic in scope.

Outbursts and consolation

This large-scale intention is clearly reflected in the dramatic opening. But we are quickly transported to something more lyrical, and after the violent eruptions and the mood swings that Schubert is so fond of, coming to the first subject at bar 15 is just wonderful. It is one of the holy moments of quartet literature. Florian, our first violinist, is a very creative and delicate player and, speaking as the violist in the quartet, it is just a joy to follow him through that theme.

It seems even more restful in retrospect after the return of the explosive opening figure in bar 33, which begins a transition that somehow leaves us in F sharp major 30 bars later. With the second subject from bar 65, Schubert gravitates back through keys closer to home but he manages to circumvent landing on anything that feels like a tonic for too long. It gives the second subject a weightless quality, and one has this feeling of constantly being in motion. Pianist Alfred Brendel talks about moments like bar 78, with the first violin playing triplets over the top of the second subject, as ‘somnambulation’ in Schubert’s music.

We return to a very different reality with the fortissimo in bar 90. In fact, it is marked fff in the autograph and however tricky to manage in terms of pacing, it does appear that Schubert wanted an extreme here. The former gentle second subject idea is transformed into something with militaristic connotations by the blaring fanfares, as in bar 93, and the agitation of the triplet idea. I see it as impressions of the Napoleonic wars still in Schubert’s being, and it is an overwhelming and shattering moment when it first appears, ripping us out of our dream state.

IRÈNE ZANDEL

The unison in bar 106 doesn’t have the driving characteristic of before, as we are being led to a calmer place. In technical terms we use a broader stroke and aim for more air in the sound, both for the purpose of blending and to find a different character. The military fanfares and triplet treatment feature again in the section from bar 122 and because they are only marked forte this time, perhaps one can find a character in the new key that’s slightly less manic than the first time it comes.

And then we come to the viola solo, which is exceptional in Schubert’s quartets for shining a spotlight on the instrument for a complete melodic statement. It’s wonderfully written. In contrast to the more introverted cello solo before (bars 110–121), the viola solo from bar 142 has more of the lilt inherent in the second subject. It brings together all the different facets of the theme so far, with the sleepwalking triplet idea over the top and the pizzicato accompanying figure from before.

Light and shade: the tension between major and minor

The passage from bar 154 brings some ominous rumblings in the shape of F naturals when we thought we had arrived in D major, but on the whole it’s of a more positive nature, culminating in bar 164 with a sequence of oscillating chords. The pianist Alexander Lonquich, with whom we have worked a little on this piece, describes them as ‘Alpine’ because of the bucolic effect they bring to the end of this section and the whole movement.

One of the arguments for observing the repeat in an already long movement is that you get a chance to hear the cello’s winding bass-line in bars 168–172 twice, and it’s such an important part of the development. The upper strings offer glimpses of light and shade in response. In bar 170 and 174, which are in the higher register, I might play on the A string to find more brightness and go for a compact and defined bow stroke: almost off the string. And by contrast we would find a stroke with more air in the sound in bar 172 to express shade. Out of this comes the consoling thematic variation from bar 180, with the viola providing rhythmic counterpoint to the first violin’s graceful melody.

Tremolo forms the backdrop here and, in a similar way to the beginning, there is a looseness to it that leads nicely into the triplet tremolo and contrasts with the more nervous effect from bar 201. From bar 180 we tend to play more sul tasto, with a slower stroke, and from bar 201 with a brighter sound and a faster stroke. The triplet tremolo idea that comes in between, from bar 191, is one place where we really try to copy each other’s sound, because it contributes to the spatial effect of the writing when this material is shared seamlessly between the parts.

Finding clarity in the middle of the texture

The semiquavers (s), which made a charming countermelody to the cello line in bars 201–209, now swirl around the explosive opening idea from bar 210 in another sudden outburst. The challenge here for the viola is when the sustained notes are shared between two rather than three instruments, and the double-stops have to assume double intensity. Achieving the necessary clarity with double-stops in the middle of the texture is a major consideration at different points throughout the movement, and I find an open string very useful for centring our intonation; for example, towards the end of the first section in bar 51. And then there are certain bars, particularly bar 356 onwards in the recapitulation, that are simply very tricky and require delicate balancing with the other inner part.

Harmonic direction

Without having to go into great depth to analyse the music, it is very helpful to think in terms of harmonic standpoints for each section in this movement; not least bars 252 to the recapitulation at bar 278. Rather than writing expansive melodies, Schubert tends to use thematic fragments to build the music in a play of tension between major and minor. To have a very clear sense of where one is in the longer harmonic line, how far from home and where the next home might be, helps in taking the listener on the journey, which is a crucial part of the drama. What is happening harmonically is the foreground, in a way, rather than just being there to underline a beautiful melody.

Through the long diminuendo from bar 269 and the gentle slow-up that comes naturally after the accelerando, everything points to the tonic minor and it is only the famous ‘celestial harp’ pizzicato figure in the violin which suggests that the recapitulation will be in the major key.

Everything about the recapitulation is different and more gentle. The militaristic dotted figures are softened into the tender quaver (e) figures we find in bars 280–281, for example, and what were wild semiquavers gusting around the fanfares are now turned into something much more consoling with the figure in the first violin from bar 292. Even the dotted minim (d) figure, previously so charged with explosive energy, somehow sounds triumphant at bar 310, and full of joy.

The play between major and minor sustains the movement right to the end, with the final fanfare figures of the violins, ending on G minor chords, sounds like a slap in the face. These are swatted back by the figures in the lower strings that end on G major chords, until the briefest final unified statement.

INTERVIEW BY HELENA RUINARD