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Lyrica Chamber Music. Bernard Phillips (flute), Merynda Adams (harp), Laura Bossert and Paula Majerfeld (violins), Vernoica Salas and Isaac Allen (violas), Rebecca Thornblade (cello), Mariel Bossert (piano). Arbos: Bolero, and Seguidillas Gitanas; Mozart: Concerto in C major for flute and harp, K. 299; Brahms: Quintet for Strings in G major, Op. 111. First Presbyterian Church, Chatham.
Lyrica's concert opened with music of Enrique Arbos. A contemporary of de Falla, Arbos was a violinist who studied with Vieuxtemps and Joachim, and had a successful career as a soloist and teacher. Later on he became a distinguished conductor. Arbos was a composer of slight importance - he was overshadowed by de Falla and Albeniz - but considerable charm. Like that of Fritz Kreisler, another violinst-composer, Arbos' music is nostalgic and stylish, in this case very much in the tuneful *zarzuela style of the 19th century. Violinist Laura Bossert, cellist Rebecca Thornblade and pianist Mariel Bossert played two selections, a suave and sexy bolero, and a more rhapsodic seguidilla with Gypsy accents. Seguidillas have been danced in Spain for hundreds of years and, as their name implies, are episodic series of lively dances. Both selections were examples of salon music composed at the height of that genre's popularity. They sounded fun to play, and if the expressions on the Lyrica players' faces were any indication, they were.
Mozart's concerto for flute and harp is amongst his most familiar works. Its slow movement, which seems to captures the spirit of the French artist Fragonard (the piece was composed in Paris), is perhaps the loveliest slow movement ever written. Funds being tight nowadays, Lyrica used an arrangement - not Mozart's - that pared the orchestral accompaniment down to a quartet of strings; the tang of oboes, the heft of horns and the weight of contrabasses were truly missed, as was their position in Mozart's *voice-leading. The string parts were those of the orchestral tutti minus the lowest voice, and lacking the textural richness and the conversational give-and-take of true quartet writing. Fortunately, Lyrica's fine string playing was a compensation.
In truth, K. 299 is a perfect candidate for period instruments, especially the sylvan-toned wooden flute, next to which the modern metal instrument has all the subtlety of a factory steam whistle. A wooden flute would have lent some needed allure to this performance. But if flutist Bernard Phillips was an elegant but rather chilly musical persona, harpist Merynda Adams played with an abundance of expressive warmth.
Brahms' G-major string quintet is one of his late works and is, like others of this period in his career, full of surprises. His late piano works make spectral allusions to musical form, and the quintet's first movement toys with convention until the very end, when the composer telescopes the *recapitulation into a briefer, more abrupt structure.
The first movement's intense, complex textures and rhythms are utterly Brahmsian. Its very first measures astonish by their sudden, surging energy, and Lyrica's playing was electric. If the opening melodies bring Dvorak to mind, a firmer intent is heard in the slow movement's theme: a direct quote from the Czech master's Serenade, Op. 44. Another nod from Brahms to his friend in Bohemia is the lilting scherzo's Slavic-sounding raised fourth. The Gypsy style of the finale is pure Brahms from way back, and Lyrica gave it a lively step.
Lyrica's performances are always of a high order, even with occasional changes of personnel. One constant is Laura Bossert's leadership, always graceful and collegial but firm nonetheless, done with clear gestures and facial expressions; her own accomplished playing is hardly a negligible factor. Another constant is pianist Mariel Bossert. A few years ago I wrote in these
pages that one can listen to her all afternoon and, at the end of the day, still marvel at her clear-minded and resolutely honest musicianship. There are pianists with more flash, but they quickly wear out their welcome. This judgment still holds true.