1 February 2009
Quartetto d’archi della Scala
Giacomo Puccini, Crisantemi, elegia per quartetto
Giuseppe Verdi, Quartetto in mi min. per archi
Giuseppe Verdi, Antologia da “Rigoletto”, arranged for strings by A. Melchiori
This originally appeared in Pinball People in February 2009; I’m re-posting here.
I was a bit skeptical about going to see a string quartet at La Scala, but the tickets were a thoughtful gift and besides, it was La Scala’s in-house quartet performing Puccini and Verdi. The venerable Milan institution’s ushers, clad in clasped cloaks, seated us with that ineluctably continental mix of politeness and indignation. No palco for us, we got lucky with front and center seats.
The concert began with a rarely-performed treat, one of Puccini’s few pieces of chamber music, “Crisantemi” (Chrysanthemums). During this single-movement elegy, there was a hint of cellist Massimo Polidori’s expressiveness with a few restrained pizzicati.
The quartet’s exuberance really began to show itself during their performance of Verdi’s only piece of chamber music, the String Quartet in E Minor. Violinist Piero Negri managed to seem both relaxed and possessed at the same time, sitting with legs splayed but almost rising out of his chair during the allegro movement. As the musicians finished the movement, bows raised, there was a hint of applause, not totally uncommon, as one may assume there might be a small child or someone else unaccustomed to music written in movements might be in the audience. But it suddenly crescendoed, and violinist Francesco Manara gently reminded the audience that there are four movements and that afterwards, if we like it, then we can applaud. Mr. Polidor’s cello seemed to take on a life of its own during the third movement (prestissimo), as both violinists made room for it by plucking, and the piece concluded with a playful scherzo, in which the quartet showed impressive dynamic control, Mr. Polido using a gentle martelé.
Initially apprehensive about a quartet in the grandeur of La Scala, I was pleased to see that the musicians were not dwarfed by the opera house’s magnificence, neither literally nor figuratively.
The next piece was on more familiar ground for Italy, an anthology of pieces from Rigoletto. During the prelude, Mr. Manara’s violin came into the fore. The aria “questa o quella per mi pari sono” gave Mr. Polidori’s cello a chance to lend more levity to the piece, but in the following “Caro nome che il mio cor” he allowed Mr. Manara ample space for a delicate solo. The frantic scherzos of “Cortigiani, vil razza dannata” garner applause for both Mssrs. Manara and Polidori, and the audience was allowed some levity with the song “La donna e’ mobile” to bring us out of the depths previous aria.
The Rigoletto portmanteau closed with “Un di’, se ben rammentomi…bella figlia dell’amore,” a piece full of fortissimi scherzi. During thunderous applause Polidori addresses us with a half-smile, telling us that although they can’t play all of Rigoletto, they are glad that Verdi can stand on his own, senza voce. What follows is an encore that Polidori promises that we should instantly recognize, although I can’t place it. It’s light, and short, and gives the quartet one more chance to show that the world at La Scala can extend far beyond opera, and the audience is generous with applause, the quartet coming back out no less than three times.
However, as able as the Scala’s String Quartet is, I can’t help but think that of course they excel at Puccini and Verdi. It would have been interesting to see how they handle Webern, Shostakovich or Haydn – all of which I note is in their repertoire.