Prazak Quartet - Beethoven: String Quartets, Vol. 4 (2004) [SACD]

The Pražák Quartet is a Czech string quartet established in 1972. It is 1 of the Czech Republic’s premiere chamber ensembles. It was founded while its members were still students at Prague Conservatory. The Pražák Quartet is a finely balanced ensemble that plays with unassuming perfection accompanied by a sense of unerring authority.
A diptych (1809-1810) of Goethean mood, the opus 74 with its heroic tone contemporary with the ‘Emperor’ piano concerto, the opus 95 with its final deriving its triumph willpower from Egmont ouverture, while the general surroundings are rather bitter. The Pražák give without consideration the moments of heartache as those of tenderness, of vehemence as of melancholy, eventually of serenity when ‘a divine hand lays on peace over a burning forehead’.
AllMusic:
For some, Beethoven’s string quartets may seem over-performed & recorded too often, & the appearance of yet another recording may elicit only a tepid response, if not outright dismissal. But the truly jaded listeners need to give this splendid disc a try, for the Prazák Quartet offers an amazing musical experience & makes this familiar repertoire sound new, urgent, & genuinely exciting. Vol. 4 of the ensemble’s recordings of Beethoven’s quartets pairs 2 middle works, the String Quartet #10 in E flat major (“Harp”) & the String Quartet #11 in F minor (“Serioso”). Both pieces are masterfully rendered, with wonderful cohesion, great sonic depth, & riveting energy, & the Prázak’s interpretations are as intellectually coherent as they are emotionally compelling. Best of all, the group’s sound is almost orchestral in its nuanced timbres & powerful massed sonorities, & the players’ technical resources are fully exercised to provide the widest possible range of string colours. The Prazák is clearly a quartet for the digital age, & 1 that is well served by DSD recording. Hearing this superb ensemble in any format would be a pleasure, but Praga’s hybrid SACD makes the experience all the more enjoyable. The musicians are captured with lifelike presence & the acoustics are naturally resonant.
Notes and Editorial Reviews
The Pražák Quartet is a finely balanced ensemble that plays with unassuming perfection accompanied by a sense of unerring authority. These performances are so natural in their musicality that one might mistake them for being unimaginative. Rather than force you to follow them in an over embellished voyage of what some call musical discovery, they assume you know the music as they do. I’ve listened to this recording several times and find it an absolute pleasure to hear musicians who don’t feel compelled to point out this and that about a musical score. One feels the Pražáks were born knowing this music and compared to them, the recent Borodin Quartet recording on Chandos sounds like a casual run through, despite the more overtly soloistic playing of violinist Ruben Aharonian.
The opening of the op. 74 Quartet sets out their credo, and they are consistent through it and the “Serioso” as well. Poco adagio for them means just that—a bit adagio without exaggeration. The forte chords—unaccented in the score—are forte chords, not the slashes heard in so many recent recordings by current quartets. Sometimes, they are too well balanced (at least in op. 74): the cello solo early in the development section of the first movement could be more prominent and the violist is occasionally too reticent.
Understatement serves them well in the gentle cantabile of the Adagio movement of the “Harp.” The movement’s ending is appropriately inconclusive, paving the way for an astonishingly fine performance of the technically demanding Presto: four musicians playing as one with clarity of expression, technical precision, and superb control of phrase and dynamics. They make it sound easy, and some may miss the sense of struggle that often underlies this movement (not always for interpretive reasons.)
As fine as the Pražák’s “Harp” is, the “Serioso” is an even stronger performance. The Czech players unify the opening of the first movement—phrasing across the second bar rests, which can sound startling in the hands of those who prefer a more revolutionary approach. Hairpin dynamics are expressed but not exaggerated, for example, as the quartet concentrates on presenting the whole rather than a collection of intriguing parts. Movement flows into movement through excellent choice of tempo. The playing is broadly symphonic. I wish the Pražáks had recorded these performances in the faultless acoustics of Prague’s Rudolfinum rather than the anonymous sounding Domovina Studio. In the extraordinary clarity of the SACD version, one sometimes hears the faint trace of artificial reverberation, making the CD layer of the hybrid disc slightly preferable if you are sensitive to this. In the light of the music-making, I would have enjoyed this recording on a portable AM radio.
These are highly recommended readings of essential literature; yet I would not place them ahead of the Emersons and Hagens of today or the beloved Budapest and Vienna Konzerthaus Quartets of the past. Placing them alongside these icons is recommendation enough.