Alexander von Zemlinsky has never had a champion like Mahler's Bernstein, and gained no prominence in the New World like his student Schoenberg. As his work continues to be revitalized in the 21st century, his role becomes more distinct as one of many ferrymen who guided the dying Romantic era into 20th century modernity. The Escher Quartet, under the auspices of the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, presented Zemlinsky’s cycle of numbered quartets, roughly spanning the first four decades of the early 20th century. Violinists Adam Barnett-Hart and Aaron Boyd, violist Pierre Lapointe, and cellist Brook Speltz, demonstrated consistent focus, refined control, and, above all, athletic poise in this quartet-athon.
Zemlinsky’s First Quartet of 1896 is the embodiment of a young composer in Brahmsian Vienna. Organized neatly into conventional forms, the first movement's naive optimism characterizes the entire work. The first movement begins with a callow sigh as the music navigates harmonies and contours of Brahms and Johann Strauss II. A clumsy dance forms the second movement as the stammering tempo wobbles unsteadily, a caricature of an awkward Zemlinsky stepping on the toes of young debutantes. This notion of the carefree juvenescence would dissolve over the next decade as the anguish of his own personal life and the influence of his student, Arnold Schoenberg, would drastically transform his compositional style.
Fast forward to 1914, and Alma Mahler has been a widow for three years. Zemlinsky’s close circle has gone through periods of tumultuous fervor, and he writes to Alma about his Second Quartet, hoping it will have a “certain impression” on her. In this letter, he also alludes to the hidden messages in the quartet. Throughout his life, Zemlinsky obsessed over numerology and cryptic extra-musical symbolism, and as a result, his compositions are shrouded in obscurity. For instance, Zemlinsky told Schoenberg that his Second Quartet would pretend to be in F sharp minor; the key signature reads three sharps, but the majority of the harmonies, however, point to D minor. Not by chance, F sharp minor was the key of Schoenberg's own Second Quartet of 1908, a work which shocked the music world. The Second Quartet begins with what could be interpreted as an antecedent response to the first bars of Schoenberg’s quartet, and overall it is an emotional amplification of the awkwardness from his youth. The first movement frantically skitters throughout the four string players, and the exactitude in which the Eschers passed these fleeting motives heightened the sense of paranoia and anxiety. The Adagio that follows continuously builds and shifts, seeking dissolution rather than resolution, until shifting to a disturbing romp in the third movement. Ultimately, the finale summarizes the entire quartet: all voices speak at the same time, interrupting one another and moving in isolation with little consideration for what the other has to say.