Review: EMERSON STRING QUARTET Rocks Halton Theater Again

Now celebrating their 40th anniversary season, the Emerson String Quartet was already a marquee attraction when I first encountered them in live concert during the summer of 2002, playing the complete cycle of Béla Bartók string quartets on successive evenings at the Aspen Music Festival. That was about the time when members of the quartet, except for the cellist sitting on a riser, began to perform standing up. It was an oblique acknowledgement that, in their realm, they were rock stars.

The Emersons are no strangers to Halton Theater in Charlotte or to the Charlotte Concerts classical series. In fact, when they last played the Halton in 2013, they were instrumental in reviving Charlotte Concerts' fortunes, filling the hall to near-capacity - jumpstarting an organization that had perilously slumped in previous seasons. Oh, and Philip Setzer, a founding member of the group, has a brother who taught at a choral music at a local high school and a sister-in-law who teaches at another. So the ensemble tends to get involved in the community when they visit.

Once again, the balcony was opened at the Halton to accommodate ticket demand, evidence that the Emersons' appeal hadn't waned. With more than 30 recordings and nine Grammys in their dossier, the Emersons' repertoire is far too vast for them to reprise fan faves as rock stars do when they tour. Last time they played in Charlotte, they proved that they were still widening their scope, mixing a Benjamin Britten quartet into an evening that also included Mendelssohn, Mozart, and Beethoven. Their cellist, Paul Watkins, was new to the ensemble then, another touch of freshness.

Programming on the Emersons' return visit, perhaps less venturesome, followed a similar pattern. They began with Samuel Barber's String Quartet, but only the famous middle Adagio movement, an abridgement that rather irritated me. Otherwise, the major selections were more circumscribed, exploring two Eastern European works written within five years of one another, Tchaikovsky's 1876 String Quartet #3 and Antonín Dvorák's 1881 C Major.

While I brooded over the omission of Barber's outer movements - less than 10 minutes' more music, for Pete's sake - I had no trouble noting that that I'd never heard the Molto adagio played so beautifully before. Inner textures and counterpoint were more sharply defined than on the Emersons' own recording of the work, and the dramatic argument of the rising and falling dynamics was more powerful. Philip Setzer took the first violin, with violist Lawrence Dutton actually asserting himself more than second violinist Eugene Drucker. But only Paul Watkins challenged Setzer for dominance before the grandest gradual crescendo.

One of the more engaging rock star practices that the Emerson Quartet has adapted, more infrequently than standing while they play, is giving their CDs conceptual titles. Instead of lazily calling their 2010 collection "Dvorák's Later String Quartets," after the four pieces that take up two-thirds of the 3CD release, the Emersons titled it Old World - New World, a nod to the places where the composer of the famed New World Symphony wrote these lesser-known chamber pieces.

The #11 C Major, Op. 61, was definitely in the earlier Old World category, with the piquant harmonies that identify Dvorák's quartet writing. Setzer seems to be the Emersons' choice to play creamier works like this while Drucker steps forth more often as first violinist in turbulent works. Once again, Setzer and Watkins impressed most in the beginning of the opening Allegro movement, but Dutton and Drucker gradually asserted themselves before the harmonious closing. There was gorgeous high treble lyricism form Setzer in the ensuing Poco adagio, with additional contributions from Dutton's viola enhancing the loveliness.

Dvorák and Scherzo may not seem to belong in the same sentence, and Setzer seemed inclined to lead a smooth homogenized reading at first rather than plunging into any playfulness. Dutton had a nice spot that Setzer echoed in a folksier spirit, kicking us into the Allegro vivo section, but the playing never approached the zip and zest you'll readily hear on the CD. Digging into the Finale, Setzer was far more spirited, even as the ensemble preserved Dvorák's distinctive harmonies. There was a new glide to the music before the full momentum of the Vivace kicked in.

A deep philosophical question teased me during intermission: should a string quartet that's been together for 40 years imitate rock stars by standing up as they play, or should rock stars who have been on the road together for 40 years imitate chamber musicians by sitting down when they play? My conclusion was that it was un-American to insist on one of these options to the exclusion of the other.

Surprisingly, I can find no evidence - at the Emerson website, Amazon, Spotify, or their 1152 "songs" at iTunes - that ESQ has ever recorded either the second or the third of Tchaikovsky's string quartets (or the unnumbered B-flat Major quartet that I've found in a couple of collections). So their playing of the #3 in E-flat Minor may signal another new direction that the group is headed toward in the studio.

With Drucker taking over first violin, the Emersons didn't pose a serious threat to my preferred Borodin Quartet recording during the first two movements. The ensemble wasn't quite as somber in the opening Andante sostenuto, and Drucker, though quite expressive in his lead over the pizzicato accompaniment, didn't quite abandon himself to lamentation as fully as the Borodins' first violinist, and the intense passages afterwards had less bite. The ensuing Allegretto was more fully baked, sporting all of the cute scherzando flavor that Tchaikovsky calls for but slightly lacking in zest and drive.

But the final movements produced vivid echoes of the music we had heard before intermission. The Andante funebre reminded me of Barber's Adagio in its exquisite solemnity, oversprinkled with a sustained series of sublime pizzicatos from Drucker before he let loose with some deeply felt agonies, and the Allegro finale sported an irresistible folksiness. The ensemble's zestful work here had mostly a Russian flavor to it, but the harmonies veered toward the piquancy that Dvorák favored, and the episode of collective pizzicatos made for a slightly humorous lull before the final assault.

I'm not sure whether or not the audience missed applauding a single movement all evening long, so an encore was clearly required. They returned briefly to Dvorák, offering up one of his 12 "Cypresses" with an Emersonian blending, the perfect dessert for a truly satisfying meal.

Photo Credit: Robert Torres

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