In this first of the summer's open-air "Serenade" concerts, the Belcea Quartet performed in front of the same timber-framed house that the silk merchant Otto Wesendonck offered Richard Wagner as his Zürich home. From April 1857 to July 1858 and in what he coined his “asylum on the green hill” next door to his generous friends, Wagner enjoyed a particularly fruitful creative phase, writing large parts of Tristan and Isolde and setting five poems by his muse Mathilde Wesendonck in the his Wesendonck-Lieder.
Jumping 160 years ahead, the four Belcea musicians sat – their backs to the villa itself – on a raised black platform half-surrounded at its back and on one side by light walls. The rows of audience facing them spread out on the grass like the ripple of a great wave. It was a warm evening in Zurich, but the slight breeze, shade of the massive trees in the park, and the villa’s illustrious history, made for a highly inviting setting.
The concert began with Joseph Haydn’s String Quartet no. 29 in G major, Op.33 no. 5, a piece finished in 1781 that premiered in Vienna on Christmas Day of the same year. Here in Zurich, its particularly buoyant and “breezy” passage came first, making the perfect concert launch, but one that had to compete with the huge audio burden of a helicopter travelling overhead, whose timing couldn’t have been worse.
Quartet founder and first violinist Corina Belcea launched the second movement, offering a sublime introductory aria while second violin, Axel Schacher, gave finely-crafted elaborations. In the Scherzo, Krzysztof Chorzelski’s fine viola and Antoine Lederlin’s resonant cello also came to the fore. The last movement was delightful, too, from its regularly tempered dance step and contrasting variations to the spirited musical dialogue among all the players, whose string work was tight as a tick, no pun intended.
Next on the programme was Béla Bartók’s String Quartet no. 6, which was the last string quartet completed before the composer’s death in 1945. The quartet had been begun at the start of the war in Saanen, Switzerland, at a time when Bartók was a guest of conductor Paul Sacher. While each of the work’s four movements begins with the marking mesto (sad), that sets only one marker for this complex work, since it is as much characterised by luminous fragments that release us from the dark. The Belceas launched the first movement with its foreboding viola solo, but went on to include many such contrasts, introducing one glissando after another, and prickly passages that typically recall the vivacity and excitement of Bartok’s other works in the 1930s.