Heralding the centennial of György Ligeti, the newly recorded account of the composer’s string quartets by the wondrous Quatuor Diotima, released on Pentatone, is a terrific affair. Titled Metamorphosis Ligeti, the album presents us with spellbinding accounts of the composer’s two heavyweight entries to the medium, alongside his earlier, two-movement pastorale, given as enchanted interlude. Performed with zeal and craft, combining electrifying intensity with focused detail, these studio takes carry the torch forward to the composer’s second century.
As is often stated, in his String Quartet No.1 (1953-54) Ligeti seems to pick up where Béla Bartók left, following his iconic predecessor into the nightly realm of riveting sonic transformations, as suggested by his chosen subtitle, Métamorphoses nocturnes. However, despite manifold interconnections between the idioms applied by the two composers, Ligeti’s mist-clad paths lead to sonic discoveries entirely his own, yielding to musical fantasy of dazzling evocation.
The score of Métamorphoses nocturnes is cast in single, twenty-one-minute arch, subdivided into short sections, giving rise to a fabulous sequence of sonic permutations. The Allegretto grazioso introduction bears echoes of Bartók, while gazing forward to the opening measures of John Adams’s Violin Concerto (1993). Primed by its fleeting lyricism, a series of absorbing tableaux is unraveled, often sounded with formidable contrasts in tempo, texture and dynamics, as demonstrated by the ensuing juxtaposition of the quirky drive of the Vivace, capriccioso and the compelling near-stasis of Adagio, mesto.
In some sections, such as the Prestissimo, Ligeti’s musical narratives adopt almost cinematic vividness, whereas others, like the following Andante tranquillo, turn inwards; their calm surfaces concealing suppressed tensions of gripping intensity. Occasionally, the music gives in to witty jest, as in the central Tempo di Valse, out of which a marvelous study of musical inebriation is wrought.
The capricious textural machinery of Poco più mosso comes off as a harbinger of mature Ligeti, predating the formidable rhythmic mazes the composer would devise over years to come, whereas the Prestissimo provides moments of some splendid ensemble virtuosity. In the gorgeous Ad libitum, senza misura closing, musical shapes hover their while in mid-air, before vanishing into morning mists, to a stunning effect.
Given in outstanding performance, one of utmost textural sensitivity and astounding dexterity, Métamorphoses nocturnes comes off marvelously on the new album, beautifully served in recording and engineering, resulting in one of the most memorable recorded accounts of this quintessential score.
Written fourteen years later, Ligeti’s String Quartet No. 2 (1968) takes the medium to stratosphere with its five movements of riveting musical invention. Here, the composer looks at extremes with all his chosen sounding parameters, coming up with an astounding array of hitherto unheard textures for string quartet.
The opening Allegro nervoso lives up to its name as passages of almost inaudible ppp hue are contrasted with brusque sfff interjections, lending the movement its compelling, post-Requiem (1963-65) dramaturgy. The frozen soundscapes of the Sostenuto, molto calmo second movement bear striking lontano hue. Under the sounding surface, tensions mount, occasionally bursting out in vaporous commentaries to the eerie near-stasis of the overall ambiance.
Ligeti’s Come un meccanismo di precisione central movement is a study in complex resulting patterns derived from superimposed repetitive parts, pre-echoing those pulsating layers at the core of Clocks and Clouds (1972). In the case of the ensuing Presto furioso, brutale, tumultuoso, the movement’s heading says everything there is to be said; the rest is pure, dark fantasy.
The twenty-minute quartet is rounded off with ethereal thrills of the tremendous Allegro con delicatezza closing; a masterful study in pianissimo intensity. Another elusive postlude, the fifth movement gazes into some distant twilight glare, finally crossing the horizon and vanishing into those shrouded mystery realms that lie ahead.
An immaculate reading from Quatuor Diotima, String Quartet No. 2 is performed with such profound grasp of its multi-faceted surfaces; reflections of its thoroughly restless core. Awash with intricate detail, the performance takes the listener on an incredible journey through a ravishing universe of sonorous drama. The album engineering is again nothing short of pristine, resulting in genuine sonic revelation.
Given as gracious interlude, Andante and Allegretto for String Quartet (1950) from Ligeti’s student days is refined study in two, six-minute movements, displaying captivating pastoral ambiance. Perhaps not the most intriguing score on its own, but in the context of two later masterstrokes, the lightweight score provides some befitting moments of reflection, especially when performed with such love and enthusiasm as the members of Quatuor Diotima.
Metamorphosis Ligeti
Quatuor Diotima
György Ligeti: String Quartet No. 1 ”Métamorphoses nocturnes” (1953-54)
György Ligeti: Andante and Allegretto for String Quartet (1950)
György Ligeti: String Quartet No. 2 (1968)
Recorded at Arsenal Cité musicale-Metz, France, 31 August – 2 September 2022
Pentatone PTC 5187061 (2023), 1 CD
© Jari Kallio
AIM - Adventures in Music 
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