the St Andrew’s Drill Hall last week was attuned to Paris of the late 19th and early 20th century for the last concert of the year from the Grahamstown Music Society. A rapt audience heard three very different pieces: Saint-Saëns’ Septet for string quartet augmented with a double bass, trumpet and piano; Ravel’s String Quartet; and after interval the César Franck Piano Quintet. The Saint-Saëns looked back to the baroque period, the Ravel was a precursor to the music of the new century, and the Franck epitomised 19th-century romanticism.
the St Andrew’s Drill Hall last week was attuned to Paris of the late 19th and early 20th century for the last concert of the year from the Grahamstown Music Society. A rapt audience heard three very different pieces: Saint-Saëns’ Septet for string quartet augmented with a double bass, trumpet and piano; Ravel’s String Quartet; and after interval the César Franck Piano Quintet. The Saint-Saëns looked back to the baroque period, the Ravel was a precursor to the music of the new century, and the Franck epitomised 19th-century romanticism.
The Saint-Saëns was the least satisfactory offering. As a composition it attempted, I thought unconvincingly, to use contrapuntal writing. Its most attractive moments were when Saint-Saëns allowed his romanticism to come to the fore. I felt that the ensemble never really found itself. The best moments were in the last movement, which highlighted some excellent piano playing by Mariel Ilusorio.
The Ravel was a most ambitious project especially for the young Nicholas Fidler on viola and Cameron Cordell on cello. As a composition the work is ethereal and a meditation upon very limited material. For long passages all but the cello played with mutes with a pizzicato arpeggio base. This is music which demands the utmost attention of the audience. What was interesting for me was not so much the technical demands upon the players (especially upon the viola) or their rising to the challenge, but the awareness of Ravel as a young man feeling his way into the atonality and absence of form which was to become so important to the music of the new century.
The Franck is a massive work. The dramatic nature of the music is evident from the long sweeping crescendos coupled with sudden interruptions. The thematic material is also grand. The slow movement is subtle and gentle with waltz-like rhythm, whereas a driving march-like theme dominates the last movement. I had not heard this piece before but I am very familiar with Franck’s organ music, which is also quintessentially romantic with grand themes designed to reverberate around the Parisian cathedrals. The piece is perhaps not quite as surprising for Franck as the spoken introduction from Tim Abel suggested. I thought that in this piece the ensemble found itself most at home, perhaps because the technical demands upon the strings were not so extreme, and because the sound was filled out by the piano.
Juan Munoz can be very proud of his ensemble. Their hard work was evident, and this concert was a milestone in the development of the young string players involved. The audience loved it.
