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Its members may change, but the Tokyo is eternal
TROY — The estimable Tokyo String Quartet gave a rare local concert Sunday afternoon at the Emma Willard School’s Kiggins Hall as part of the Friends of Chamber Music series. It’s not the first time, however, the quartet has graced this hall. Soon after it founded in 1969, the quartet appeared in 1975, 1977 and 1981.
For many of the near-capacity crowd who had not heard the quartet live since then, only violist Kazuhide Isomura is part of the original quartet. Violinist Kikuei Ikeda joined in 1972, cellist Clive Greensmith in 1998 and Martin Beaver, who plays the first violin part, joined in 2002.
But there’s something eternal about the Tokyo. One feels as if the players will only fade away into the sunset but leave behind a valued colleague to take their place.
The program on Sunday showed off much of what the Tokyo does so well: Beethoven’s Quartet in B-flat Major, Op. 18, No. 6 (”La Malinconia”); Bartok’s Quartet No. 6 (1939); and Mendelssohn’s Quartet in A minor, Op. 13 (”Ist es Wahr?”). The four men played with their usual clear and precise techniques, expert pitch, exquisitely controlled attacks and a concentrated intensity that never faltered.
The things the Tokyo does better than most are its almost symbiotic level of togetherness that produces such uniformity of interpretation; its control of dynamic levels that are so sensitive that they ranged from barely there to a loudness that was only for effect and not to overwhelm; and the ability to change the sound of the quartet depending on whose music they played.
Of course, it doesn’t hurt that the quartet is playing on Stradivarius instruments. So, in the Beethoven, the sound was one of sweetness and transparency. Except for the more revolutionary fourth movement’s writing and style, everything else was well integrated, like a well-oiled Cadillac.
All this changed for the Bartok. After an eloquent solo from Isomura, the Tokyo played with richly toned, edged sounds to suit the angular writing. Heavily percussive a la Stravinsky but still tonal, the landscape was generally wintry and barren but ended with a ray of sunshine. Throughout, the Tokyo soared, had strong pacing, phrasing and a grim intent.
In Mendelssohn, it was romance with full resonant sounds and lush melodic lines that ranged from sprightly fairy dances to storms at sea. The Tokyo gave it the full treatment.
For many of the near-capacity crowd who had not heard the quartet live since then, only violist Kazuhide Isomura is part of the original quartet. Violinist Kikuei Ikeda joined in 1972, cellist Clive Greensmith in 1998 and Martin Beaver, who plays the first violin part, joined in 2002.
But there’s something eternal about the Tokyo. One feels as if the players will only fade away into the sunset but leave behind a valued colleague to take their place.
The program on Sunday showed off much of what the Tokyo does so well: Beethoven’s Quartet in B-flat Major, Op. 18, No. 6 (”La Malinconia”); Bartok’s Quartet No. 6 (1939); and Mendelssohn’s Quartet in A minor, Op. 13 (”Ist es Wahr?”). The four men played with their usual clear and precise techniques, expert pitch, exquisitely controlled attacks and a concentrated intensity that never faltered.
The things the Tokyo does better than most are its almost symbiotic level of togetherness that produces such uniformity of interpretation; its control of dynamic levels that are so sensitive that they ranged from barely there to a loudness that was only for effect and not to overwhelm; and the ability to change the sound of the quartet depending on whose music they played.
Of course, it doesn’t hurt that the quartet is playing on Stradivarius instruments. So, in the Beethoven, the sound was one of sweetness and transparency. Except for the more revolutionary fourth movement’s writing and style, everything else was well integrated, like a well-oiled Cadillac.
All this changed for the Bartok. After an eloquent solo from Isomura, the Tokyo played with richly toned, edged sounds to suit the angular writing. Heavily percussive a la Stravinsky but still tonal, the landscape was generally wintry and barren but ended with a ray of sunshine. Throughout, the Tokyo soared, had strong pacing, phrasing and a grim intent.
In Mendelssohn, it was romance with full resonant sounds and lush melodic lines that ranged from sprightly fairy dances to storms at sea. The Tokyo gave it the full treatment.
— Geraldine Freedman,
Daily Gazette
