Some canonical works seem destined to be forever associated with the circumstances of their composition and/or premiere. One of them is Olivier Messiaen’s Quartet for The End of Time, whose first performance in January 1941 was received by a literally captive audience – inmates of a Stalag in Eastern Germany. At London's Queen Elizabeth Hall, the Quartet shared a programme with two pieces by Krzysztof Penderecki: Per Slava, for solo cello; and the Quartet for clarinet and string trio. The programme, performed by the London Sinfonietta, replaced a concert that was to be a Retrospective for Penderecki, presented by the Oregon Music Festival under the baton of Zvonimir Hacko who, sadly, was indisposed.
The piece for solo cello, a six-minute gift to Mstislav Rostropovich, was given an expressive reading by Tim Gill, with the studied attention to detail of which his legendary forebear would have approved. A similar form of expressiveness underlined the performance of the quartet, in which Gill was joined by Alexandra Wood (violin), Paul Silverthorne (viola) and Robert Plane (clarinet). Indeed, their attention to phrasing, intonation and dynamics lifted the piece to a sphere beyond which one might expect from what is on the printed page. The clarinet, being the first amongst equals, led by example; in the quiet passages its rich tone was shone brightly, and in the agitated sections its lively rhetoric played to the gallery. Although Penderecki thought that music is incapable of expressing anything, he nevertheless produced a work in which his interpreters found much to confound that view. No doubt a re-programming of the Retrospective, would provide other opportunities to explore his expressive world.
It's easy to forget that there are people who have never heard the Quartet for the End of Time. Before the full performance, Jonathon Cross and the performers gave a helpful introduction to the work, highlighting its idiosyncratic structure, its unusual scoring and the elements that make up its expressive sound world. From the performance itself, the powerful solo contributions and the engaging interactions of the players in the ensemble sections, showed that this a work held in high esteem by the players. The Crystal liturgy and Vocalise, for the full quartet, were both characterised by taught rhythmic energy. In the former there were sparkling highlights from Plane’s clarinet, and in the latter Andrew Zolinsky’s delicate touch on the piano conjured up the “blue-orange chords” which were for Messiaen “the impalpable harmonies of heaven”. In the movement which is a Tangle of rainbows there was a terrific outburst of colour from the whole ensemble, a fitting salute for the Angel who announces the end of time.
In the Abyss of birds, Plane was the centre of attention, for a highly-charged evocation of light, stars and jubilant songs. His playing was breathtaking, with a gorgeous, sensuous sound. The duo for cello and piano – Praise to the Eternity of Jesus – has, like all the movements of the piece, sufficient weight to be able to stand as an individual work. Gill and Zolinsky know that, and the masterful dialogue between them would have elicited its own ovation. If the work had ended with the Dance of fury, that too would have been greeted with thunderous applause; as an evocation of trumpets and gongs it was thrillingly played.
Where the ending of Penderecki’s quartet fades into nothingness, Messiaen’s gently drifts into the infinite – not the “end of time” but “time no more”. Wood’s exquisitely lyrical violin, supported by Zolinsky’s soporific piano, brought this most beautiful essay of chamber music to a transcendent close.
