The celebrated Quatour Ébène made a triumphant return to Zankel Hall after a two-year pause with a programme that defied chronology. The formation of the renowned French quartet has undergone a significant change. After nearly 25 years with the Ébènes, cellist Raphaël Merlin left to pursue other musical avenues (conducting and composing). His place in the ensemble was filled by Japanese cellist Yuya Okamoto, who officially joined the ranks just weeks ago. Opening with the timeless elegance of late Mozart, the quartet transitioned into the avant-garde complexities of Bartók's 20th-century modernism before returning back in time to conclude with the lush Romanticism of Grieg.
From the very first bars of Mozart’s String Quartet in D major, K565, it became apparent that the quartet had seamlessly adapted to the change. There was hardly any noticeable difference in the sound, cohesion or overall high standard of the Ébène's performance. With remarkable naturalness, each instrument gracefully wove in and out of the musical tapestry. The stakes were even higher than normal for Okamoto in this first of the so-called “Prussian” quartets that Mozart composed for Friedrich Wilhelm II. Since his patron was a dedicated and skilled amateur cellist, the composer bestowed an unusual prominence on the cello voice, particularly evident in the middle section of the third movement, where Okamoto emerged as a veritable soloist. Moreover, the interplay between cello and first violin in the Andante, one of the most poignant passages in any of Mozart's quartet slow movements, was elevated by the deep musical synergy between Okamoto and Pierre Colombet.
If the rendition of Mozart’s D major quartet was somehow subdued, the Ébène’s performance of Grieg’s String Quartet in G minor bristled with energy. Balancing passion and tenderness, they turned Grieg’s penchant for miniature statements into a strength, by convincingly connecting disparate segments with pauses that enhanced expectations. The surprising changes of pace and mood, the perpetual impulse to dance, and the variety and expressiveness of Norwegian folklore evocations were all brought forward with gusto.
Bartok's String Quartet no. 3, consisting of a series of four segments played without breaks, is considered one of the most challenging, yet fulfilling compositions in the entire chamber music repertoire. Like many other masterpieces, it presents complexities that can be interpreted on multiple levels. The Ébène’s exquisite interpretation offered support for several perspectives. In one possible view, there is a spectrum of rhythms, colours and odd sound effects obtained with unconventional playing techniques. In another, there is the score’s atypical structure, with the third part an extensively revised version of the first and the coda proving to be, after several moments of hesitation, a reiteration of the folk dance from the second part. This deepest Bartók incursion into the world of modernism is marked by the influence of Stravinskian harmonies and Bergian experiments in atonality, aspects that the quartet distinctly brought out.
Most miraculously, from another perspective, the composer – whose lifelong interest in Eastern European folklore, particularly Hungarian, is well known – transformed the exotic rhythmic patterns and melodies using methods he learned from Bach’s contrapuntal exercises. Many intricate details, such as the multiple transfiguration of a tiny little motif in the first movement, may only be discerned by a perceptive ear after repeated listens. In line with the quartet's name, the performance evoked the characteristics of ebony: opaque and dense, much like the hardwood that gains depth and significance through polishing and appreciation of its intricate grain.
