Schnittke - String Quartet nr. 3

Schnittke's Third String Quartet dates from 1983. The early to mid eighties were likely the apogee of his artistic development with a string of major works such as the First Cello Concerto, the Faust Cantata, the Fourth and Fifth Symphonies, the Concerto for Mixed Choir,  and the Concerto for Viola and Orchestra. This is, for me, core Schnittke territory. At this point his rowdy polystilism had matured into a musical language of shattering power and depth.

The Third Quartet is a worthy exemplar of Schnittke's mature output. It is a fairly short work, just under 20 minutes. But despite the relative brevity it plunges shuddering depths. The polystilism is still there, to be sure. In the first two minutes only there is a bewildering succession of thematic material:  a Lassus quote (Stabat Mater); a Russian folksong; a tortured, highly chromatic descending motive; and an archtypical Schnittke signature in the form of a series of unisono chords in lush triads suggesting a fractured kind of epiphany. This fragmentation marks the whole quartet. Harmonic worlds don't cease to collide. Mahlerian marches intersect with drinking songs and the lofty spiritualism of the Lassus polyphony. The unisono chords resurface, as a kind of motto theme. The effect is like being submerged in a musical maelstrom with just an occasional breath of air. There are three movements (Andante - Agitato - Pesante), but they are played without breaks and it is not at all obvious when one ends and the next begins. The quartet is a continuous, nightmarish succession of visions. And yet somehow it all fits together. There is not an obvious slow movement either. Only towards the end some sort of exhausted tranquility settles over the music, but I would certainly disagree with Solomon Volkov who claims in the booklet notes that "the Third Quartet ultimately conveys a peaceful, almost contented mood, so rarely present in Schnittke's music." For me, the quartet is a bleak distopian landscape as is the Fifth Symphony and the Viola Concerto. But as always with Schnittke there is a dry-eyed stoicism and a magnanimous acceptance underpinning it all. I find this to be deeply Russian, deeply Dostojevskian. Honestly, I could just continue to listen to this music.

The performance by the Kronos Quartet certainly speaks, although I have a persistent feeling (as often with this ensemble) that something is missing. The recording is only average. In contrast with the other pieces on this double CD, this quartet was recorded at Methuen Memorial Hall. Despite the size of the hall, the recording feels rather airless. In terms of interpretation, I feel the Kronos might have gone a little further in exploring the depths of the score. I have ordered a rival recording by the Borodin Quartet (coupled with the Piano Quintet; deleted from the Virgin catalogue but still available second hand).