The Czech-born composer Anton Reicha (1770–1836) was an exact contemporary of Beethoven, and his close friend from their mid-teens. The music of each man demonstrates an awareness of what the other was doing: they showed each other their compositions-in-progress. But although Reicha was closely associated with one of the best-known names in western culture, his own music has been grievously neglected: only his woodwind quintets have achieved any currency. Of his vast cycle of almost forty string quartets just one had been recorded before – an omission this ambitious project intends to put right, thereby revealing one of the most inventive and engaging spirits in classical music. - Toccata Classics
My previous Pickard review, in Fanfare 36:4, covered Toccata Classics’ enterprising first installment of the music of John Pickard. Here is the second volume, which effectively acts as confirmation of Pickard as a composer of original voice and deft compositional technique. There is a Bergian combination of lyricism and angst that underlies much of the writing of the String Quartet No. 1 of 1991 (particularly the intense second section, but also in the shadowy Prestissimo of the eighth); yet the impression is simultaneously that of a folkloric longing of a lost past. The piece is in 10 short sections (including two fugues), each of which manages to say huge amounts in small time-spans. The Brodowski Quartet (2008 winners of the Royal Overseas League Competition) plays with huge conviction and massive technical security.
The Fifth Quartet was premiered in April 2013, and represents Pickard’s first quartet after a five-year absence from this genre. Although shorter than the First (some 26 minutes as opposed to 38), it is no slip of a piece. And yet, the impression is of a new concise way of expression. The tense, serious, shifting opening houses kinetic energy that is pent up like a coiled spring. As that energy uncoils, the performance by the Brodowski Quartet reaches almost unbearable levels of intensity; the “Desolato” movement that follows offers relief from ongoing movement, but little more. The heaviness of the emotion is palpable, especially in as heartfelt a performance as this one. It is easy to get dragged in, not to notice how exquisitely the textures are balanced, or how sweetly the phrases are tapered. Pickard’s Fifth Quartet is a magnificent creation, perfectly proportioned, almost classically so, and yet containing a wealth of feeling. The pizzicatos of the third and central movement (there are five) are superbly done here, descending gestures like falling rain. The fourth movement certainly lives up to its title (“Drammatico”), but also seems to be trying to find a voice by trying out different instrumental combinations. The intense and fraught Finale seems the perfect end, technically challenging yet not overtly virtuoso. Rather, it exudes a buzzing energy that is wonderfully invigorating.
A truly superb disc, beautifully engineered (it was recorded in St Paul’s Church, New Southgate, London). Volume Two of Pickard’s chamber music is in every way as impressive as Volume One—perhaps more so.
