The Heath Quartet BÉLA BARTÓK Complete String Quartets

Bartók’s six string quartets are arguably the most important contribution to the medium after Beethoven, and they plot his evolution as a composer more completely than any other group of his works. Of course, there’s already a generous choice of outstanding cycles available on disc, ranging from recordings from the LP era, such as those by the Fine Arts and Végh quartets, to digital versions by the Takács (itself almost 20 years old) and the Alban Berg. Given such a pedigree, it’s hardly damning the Heath Quartet’s new cycle with faint praise to say that their performances deserve to be considered alongside the best of these existing sets, and although they may not displace any of the current recommendations, they are fine accounts. 

To fit all six quartets on to two CDs, the odd-numbered works occupy one disc, and the even-numbered the other. There are things to admire in all six of the Heath performances, but hearing them in that order emphasises their strengths and occasional weaknesses. The careful balancing of textures and clarity of the part writing are regularly impressive. The unfolding of the counterpoint in the first two quartets, and whirlwind delicacy and transparency of the final section of the Third, are spellbinding. And their treatment of the deeply tragic finale of the Sixth, which never becomes lachrymose, could hardly be bettered. 

But what sometimes seems to be missing is a collective willingness to really take the music by the scruff of its neck and impose an interpretation on it. In the Fourth and Fifth quartets especially the playing becomes too passive and tactful, though the finale of the Fifth generates real momentum. The more expressionist moments of the Second and Third are perhaps a bit underplayed, too. But the totality of the set is undeniably convincing. (Andrew Clements / The Guardian)

The Heath Quartet TCHAIKOVSKY String Quartets No. 1 & No. 3

Although only five years separate Tchaikovsky’s first and last string quartets, they are stylistically very different. The First, written in 1871, epitomises the composer’s remarkable gift for melody, not least in the famous Andante cantabile, while the Third is one of Tchaikovsky’s works which bears an intensely personal emotional burden. The pair feature on the Heath Quartet’s Harmonia Mundi debut in clean, assured performances.

‘Why always the Andante? They do not seem to want to know anything else!’, complained Tchaikovsky to his brother, Modest. The second movement of the String Quartet No 1 spawned myriad arrangements and is easily the most popular movement from his string quartet output. Based on an old folksong Tchaikovsky heard in Kamenka, the composer reported that it brought Leo Tolstoy to tears. The Heath Quartet’s account is rather dry-eyed, however, stressing the lyrical over the melancholy compared with the Borodin Quartet’s more sentimental reading for Teldec. The Heath’s sound is bright and without undue vibrato, which gives their playing a slightly cool edge for this repertoire. The Scherzo is light on its feet and credit is due for taking the exposition repeat in the finale (unlike the Borodin or Utrecht quartets).

The Third Quartet was composed in 1876 in memory of Ferdinand Laub, who had played first violin in the premieres of Tchaikovsky’s first two quartets. ‘Nobody draws strains out of the violin that touch the soul so deeply, are so strong and powerful and also so tender and caressing’, wrote the composer. The Heath Quartet’s careful attention to dynamics pays dividends in the introspective first movement, which is almost symphonic in style, plunging us into a very different world to the First Quartet. The second movement bustles in a lively fashion, without labouring the humour.

Tchaikovsky seems to draw on Russian Orthodox chant in the third-movement Andante funebre e doloroso. The Heath Quartet don’t hang around here, with rather a purposeful tread for a funeral march. There’s deeper pain to be mined here, especially in the Utrecht Quartet’s excellent reading, but the finale brings the quartet to an exuberant close. (Mark Pullinger / Gramophone)