Mozart & Brahms Clarinet Quintets

These monumental clarinet war horses get a vibrant new treatment!

For clarinetists, the Quintets of Mozart and Brahms are not just the two finest and best known works of the genre, ever, but these pieces are standard repertoire. It is simply not possible to go through a clarinet performance program anywhere and not have to learn these works. For the general public, it is highly likely that you have heard at least bits of these masterworks at some time.

There are, understandably, many, many recordings of these Quintets out there and even clarinetists may be tempted to go listen to a recording by one of the current or historical “big names” in clarinet playing (e.g. Leister, Shifrin, DePeyer, Wright et al) The best advice I would give anyone is do not ignore this new and very satisfying recording by an up and coming “big name”, Anthony McGill.

McGill has served as the principal clarinetist for the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra for the past several years but he recently was named principal clarinet for the New York Philharmonic. Anthony serves as an inspirational story for young players, in my opinion. McGill is originally from the inner city in Chicago and was a bit of a child prodigy. Through his own appreciable skills and the attention of some influential professionals he attended the Interlochen Arts Academy, the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia and has taught at the Peabody Institute in Baltimore and the Mannes College of Music in New York City.

Anthony is one of the few black musicians to hold a principal chair in a major symphony orchestra. I have had the pleasure of corresponding with him on occasion and he is also a very nice guy. As a clarinetist, he has a warm, attractive tone and ample technique coupled with a sensitive ear for phrasing that serves him well in these masterpieces.

As often played and recorded and performed as these two works are, there is still plenty of room for interpretation (or misinterpretation or “over interpretation”) For example, the final Allegretto con Variazoni in the Mozart can be really rushed and “showy” for the soloist at the expense of genuine period style. Similarly, the lush Adagio second movement in the Brahms can be “gypsy-ed” to the point where there is too much rubato or it drags.

McGill avoids both these pitfalls and his performances here are beautiful but not mannered and wholly impressive but not needlessly showy. His approach to the works as true ensemble pieces is helped tremendously by the skills and musicianship of the Indiana based Pacifica Quartet. This is a wonderful quartet in a sea of quartets. I have heard them but once before, in one volume of their very important “Soviet Experience” quartets on Cedille and they remain incredibly impressive.

I enjoyed this disc a great deal. I do think that Anthony McGill is a master clarinetist that all players but especially young, aspiring performers ought to emulate. For anyone wishing to have a recording of these amazing works, I know there are so many out there to choose from but this is very good and highly recommended.

After 20 years together, the Pacifica Quartet continues to move from strength to strength. Its 10th-anniversity Mendelssohn quartets are arguably as fine as any recordings available. There is its near-definitive Elliott Carter cycle for Naxos. And the Quartet’s Shostakovich cycle, though not offering the last measure of Russian anguish, has been highly (and rightly) praised. Now comes this coupling of the Mozart and Brahms clarinet quintets. Central to its success—and it is a superb pair of performances—is the partnership with Anthony McGill, for many years co-principal clarinetist of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, and recently named to first desk in the New York Philharmonic, at least for this next season. Obviously he is an orchestral musician of consummate skill. He is also acclaimed as a soloist and chamber musician. He joined the Quartet on tour, during which he and Pacifica Quartet honed the performances to perfection and Cedille, happily, seized the opportunity to capture their collaboration.

Perhaps the most appealing quality of these performances is the absolute sense of rightness regarding tempo and phrasing. There is no sense of exaggeration; no doctrinaire interpretive points are being made. The Mozart is notable for the ensemble’s lightness of touch: leisurely, perhaps, but with an appealing lilt. This is heard not only in the Allegretto con variazioni finale, where that is expected, but throughout all but the pensive Larghetto, which is quite magical in its own right. This sparkle contrasts nicely with the Brahms Quintet’s autumnal glow, especially in the darkly wistful opening and closing of the Adagio, though here, as in the Mozart, it is the variety of tone and expression that captivates. Clarity of texture and precision of execution are givens as well, but take nothing from the remarkable heart of either performance—heart achieved by all five of the ensemble, but especially by McGill, who seems particularly sensitive to the special emotive role of the clarinet in both of these works. These are performances of the highest order, ones that I might, while in their thrall, be inclined to call best.

Of course, this is a common pairing of two of the cornerstones of the chamber repertoire, so the idea of looking for a best recording is really rather pointless. Everyone who loves these works will have a favorite recording, either paired as here or in separate issues. Among those paired, my recent favorites have included two other orchestral principals: the Berlin Philharmonic’s Karl-Heinz Steffens and orchestral colleagues of the Scharoun Ensemble, Berlin (Tudor) and Vienna Philharmonic principal Matthias Schorn with the Minetti String Quartet (CAvi). Among the recent separate issues, I am partial to Sharon Kam in both the Mozart (Berlin Classics) and the Brahms (Harmonia Mundi USA). The Mozart is of particular interest, as Kam plays the work on basset clarinet, as dedicatee Anton Stadler would have, with its additional range a third below a standard A clarinet. McGill, and indeed most clarinetists, do not, as Mozart’s autograph for the clarinet quintet (and for that matter, the concerto) no longer exists, and the published score was adapted for A clarinet. Kam’s reconstruction emphasizes the lower reaches of the basset clarinet most convincingly. For those wishing the Mozart on basset clarinet with period instruments, I particularly like Colin Lawson and The Revolutionary Drawing Room (Clarinet Classics). This new Cedille recording does not displace these favored new discoveries, or some old friends, for that matter. But it most certainly joins them.

If I have one concern about this new recording, it is the occasional prominence of the clarinet in the mix. It is not a major problem, and it was more noticeable on a pair of fairly bright headphones than over good speakers. The engineering is fine otherwise, and the issue certainly isn’t enough to prevent me giving this release the very warmest of recommendations.

“The pure, gorgeous tone and expressive musicianship of the clarinetist Anthony McGill meshes with the talents of the excellent Pacifica Quartet for thoroughly enjoyable readings…”

As a general rule, I don’t take all that much interest in new recordings of standard repertoire that is already hugely well represented in the catalog. But rules were made to be broken, and performers like clarinetist Anthony McGill and the Pacifica Quartet provide the perfect opportunity. Yes, the clarinet quartets of Mozart and Brahms represent well-trod ground, and it isn’t as if these performances reveal any radical new thinking about the music. Yet the playing is so suave, so gleamingly elegant and so full of textural riches that you can almost imagine yourself hearing these pieces for the first time. McGill especially is a joy, bringing a combination of vivacity and soulfulness to the Mozart and then deepening those qualities to reflect the autumnal qualities in Brahms’ writing. The Pacifica Quartet makes a worthy collaborator, providing plush yet translucent accompaniment when the clarinet comes to the fore and stepping up when necessary with close-knit ensemble playing. In all, this is a keeper.