Apartment House play Morton Feldman’s ‘Violin and String Quartet’ (10/11/2023)
It’s 22:03 — Apartment House has just finished playing Morton Feldman’s two-hour-odd Violin and String Quartet. There is a grave silence that lasts for at least a minute, as both the audience and the performers don’t want to let this remarkable moment evaporate. Nevertheless, a standing ovation — something rarely seen at new music concerts — bursts out as the excitement and joy can no longer be contained. The ensemble, consisting of Mira Benjamin (violin), Chihiro Ono (violin), Amalia Young (violin), Bridget Carey (viola) and Anton Lukoszevieze (cello), fully deserved it: their care, love and dedication for this monumental work were felt throughout the performance.
Needless to say, it was a very special evening. Music We’d Like to Hear is a concert series known for presenting rarely heard programmes, but it is especially commendable to see them feature concerts of classic works, such as this late oeuvre by Feldman. It generated enough buzz to sell out the concert — yet another sporadic thing in the world of new music, but a strong indication that it can be exciting and create eager demand. Their regular venue — St Mary-at-Hill, an old 14th-century church — felt too small to contain the grandeur of such a monumental work, yet too spacious for the chilling sense of intimacy that Feldman’s fragile material conjured up.
Just before the concert began, I found a cosy spot on the floor next to the radiator, anticipating the discomfort of sitting in a chair for such an extended duration. While some people chose to sit on the floor or stand, I felt somewhat sorry for those trapped in their chairs. Additionally, I decided not to look at the players — something which many audience members did anyway, closing their eyes and focusing on the sole sound. Only the church clock, with its ticking, was rushing the music.
The start of Violin and String Quartet felt somewhat hurried, but the tempo stabilised soon after. I wasn’t sure if changes in light, colour, dynamics and temperature were happening in external reality or simply in my head. The ensemble’s playing was cool and reserved, yet full of confidence and determination. They became one breathing lung, synchronising perfectly, only to gradually shift into discordance stipulated by the material itself. Tension grew into relaxation and back into tension. Fragments came in and out of focus, distorting my own sense of memory — something Feldman himself would be pleased with. Only very sparse coughing disturbed this delicate experience. What I also found interesting was the contrast in how chords resonated in this performance compared with Apartment House’s recent CD of this work, which I covered previously. On the recording, the attacks of instruments are more crisp and pronounced, while in the live concert, they sounded more flute-like, emerging in a smooth and gradual way, thanks to the acoustics of the venue.
The overall experience felt like a simmering kettle that never quite reached a boiling point, or, as I mentioned in my review of the CD, Andrei Tarkovsky’s hypothetical film about wandering in an icy forest. However, no metaphor could truly encapsulate the brilliance of the performance we enjoyed last Friday. Two hours passed almost too quickly. The concert left me craving two things: more of Feldman’s soundworld and more similarly outstanding performances.
