These guys were such a treat to sit with. At one point I whispered to my husband, "That sounds exactly how flying feels to me." The music seemed to dance in the air invisible leaping from one instrument to another, it swirled among them before it rippled out to us. I thought ... this is magic. I can see them, the Quartet, stirring it up ... I see the masterful mechanics of it, but ... how is what I see related to how my self receives it? I thought ... this is the music most likely played in Heaven (who ever came up with the notion of little harps?). These are the sounds, subtle, intricate, complex, which one could be nurtured by in eternity.
I am not qualified to offer a critique of the performances, I can only say for myself ... these guys are magnificent musicians. Beautifully trained, classically literate, bold enough to audaciously infuse the music with personality. The Old Masters must smile to hear their labors re-presented in such a way ... the newer pieces, I imagine the more current guys would think yeah, that's what I meant when I inked those notes.What I heard was clarified and intentional ... brilliant so as to shimmer ... collaborative genius.
Quartet ... I didn't realize that quartet type music would sound so ... I cannot think of the word ... essential? Like concentrated, as something rendered from a process.
What a treat to sit near this expression and experience it.
Husband had a favorite ... the interpretation of Come Together linked above. I played it for him a few minutes ago. He said, "It sounded better live." And I think that may be it, the magic. I could see the Quartet labor ... their collective "product" lived and moved in the air of the performance hall(s) engaging ... me ... an invisible touching, interacting with, my invisible.