"Expect to be depressed,"
violinist Geoff Nuttall tells the audience while preparing to lead the
St. Lawrence String Quartet in Shostakovich’s String Quartet No.
3 in F Major, Op. 73. "Most of you will probably want to leave,"
he adds, "because believe me—this piece is very, very depressing."
In spite of Nuttall’s
tongue-in-cheek warnings nobody exits during the quartet’s riveting
performance.
Perhaps it’s because
the late-fall day is remarkably chilly outside and this free afternoon
concert is being held within San Francisco State University’s spacious
McKenna Theater, which is pleasantly heated. More likely, though, the
audience remains intact because it already has experienced the ensemble’s
opening interpretation of Haydn’s String Quartet in D Major, Op.
76, No. 5, and everyone recognizes the unlikeliness of SLSQ giving a
"depressing" performance of anything, even Shostakovich’s
legendarily brooding, war-inspired third quartet. Indeed, in spite of
Nuttall’s comically dire forecasts, the majestic piece–as
interpreted by the renowned Canadian quartet–is electrified with
energy, emotion, and an almost-physical infusion of excitement.
Such is to be expected from
the St. Lawrence String Quartet.
Founded in Toronto in 1989
and named for Canada’s mighty St. Lawrence River, the group has
earned a reputation for being exciting, expressive, and entertainingly
animated in a way one associates more often with rock groups than with
classical quartets. Since 1999, the ensemble has been the quartet in
residence at Stanford University.
Its repertoire consists
of classical standards and a number of original works commissioned by
such genre-jumping composers as Jonathan Berger and Melissa Hui. To
date, the SLSQ has given over 1,500 performances around the world and
recorded three critically acclaimed CDs. The Grammy-nominated Yiddishbbuk
(EMI Classics, 573562), its latest, is a typically stirring recording—you
could even call it shocking—and unleashes the intense emotional
power of several pieces by Argentinean composer Osvaldo Golijov. A frequent
SLSQ collaborator, Golijov has called his first meeting with the St.
Lawrence a decade ago "a life changing experience."
The quartet now features
first violinist Nuttall, 36, second violinist Barry Shiffman, 35, violist
Lesley Robertson, 30-ish, and 29-year-old newcomer Alberto Parrini on
cello. Parrini–who joined the quartet in August—has gracefully
moved into the seat formerly occupied by founding member Marina Hoover,
who has decided to stop touring to spend more time with her family.
Hoover gave her final official performance with the quartet on August
11, 2002, at the Banff Centre for the Performing Arts in Calgary'—the
exact spot where the group first formed almost 14 years earlier.
She will occasionally join
her former cohorts as a guest performer at concerts close to home in
Canada.
The McKenna Theater performance
in San Francisco launches the quartet's 14th touring season, and Parrini
is very much in command of his seat. The concert also marks Parrini's
public debut with the St. Lawrence String Quartet. Throughout the performance,
Nuttall's longish hair flies about and he nearly leaps from the chair
as he plays, Robertson and Shiffman match Nuttall in their obvious enthusiasm
for the music, and Parrini takes it all in with a constant expression
of delighted surprise. By the time the group concludes with Tchaikovsky's
String Quartet No. 1 in D Major, Op. 11, one thing is certain: The quartet
may look a bit different, but there is no reason for anyone to be feeling
depressed.
Lunch
for Four
A few days later, the group's
members ponder their recent transition, over lunch. "Things have
definitely been different the last few months," says Shiffman,
cracking open a plastic container crammed with fresh salad, "but
after 14 years, different is probably a good thing."
The assembled quartet–Shiffman,
Nuttall, Robertson, and Parrini—are taking a break in the sunny-but-not-very-warm
upstairs lounge area of the Braun Music Center, on the campus of Stanford
University. So far, the day has been packed with rehearsals, classes,
and meetings. Their afternoon schedule promises more of the same. Casually
attired—more so than usual—the group spends the first few
minutes passing around sandwiches, raiding the refrigerator for drinks,
and discussing Nuttall’s newly acquired violin—a 1770 J.B.
Guadagnini, priced at $400,000—while playfully debating the possible
existence of highly intelligent rodents skulking within the Braun building’s
walls.
These people are very relaxed
together, and well-practiced at the arts of teasing and contradiction.
Even the newcomer Parrini is included in this group banter. Though noticeably
more quiet than the others, he is clearly becoming acclimatized to his
spot in the quartet. Before accepting the position with SLSQ, Parrini—born
in Padua, Italy—was assistant principle cello with the Richmond
Symphony in Virginia. The process that led to Parrini’s induction
into the St. Lawrence String Quartet had begun months before, when the
three founding musicians started auditioning cellists from around the
world. In all, the quartet auditioned 15 cellists, all excellent players.
It wasn't an easy process, and according to Nuttall, the hardest part
was simply determining what it was they were actually looking for.
"There was a lot of
serious discussion," he says. "It was very illuminating."
"Before we could articulate
what it was we wanted," explains Shiffman, "we had
to define what our group was about, something we never discussed before.
Over the years, we had just evolved into whatever we were, and now we
had to figure out what it is that makes us the St. Lawrence Quartet.
'Is it a sense of adventure? Or a sense of perfection?
"What is it?'"
So—a visiting journalist
wants to know—what is it, then?
It was composer Golijov
who solved the riddle of the SLSQ, arming the group with this exhortation:
"Whoever you choose to replace Marina, make sure they're a little
crazy," Shiffman laughs as he quotes their longtime friend and
collaborator. "He was right. To be a comfortable fit with this
quartet, someone would have to be willing to go a little nuts, to take
risks, to be crazy."
"Craziness, we finally
realized," grins Nuttall, "is a very important element in
what we are."
With that in mind, they
all agree, Parrini is a good fit.
"Alberto was one of
the only candidates that showed that quality of improvisation and craziness,"
affirms Shiffman.
Parrini, when asked about
those expressions of surprise and delight that appeared so often throughout
the previous weekend’s performance, replies, "Oh, I’m
surprised and delighted many times. So far, we’ve only performed
a few times together, though we’ve rehearsed and rehearsed. But
when we get on stage, everybody surprises me, musically, all the time.
That’s been the most exciting thing."
"During the audition
process," says Shiffman, "we were the ones who were surprised.
He would do stuff that would just shock us. He made things up as he
went along, and we were so set in our ways, we weren't always fast enough
to catch it."
"Ultimately, it all
came down to making certain choices," says Nuttall, "whether
we really wanted someone because of their experience, someone who would
come in already knowing everything backwards and forwards—or if
we wanted someone with less experience but more flexibility."
"So, the main thing
I have to give to this group," Parrini adds with a smile, "is
my lack of experience—and being crazy."
Still, there are a couple
of obvious elements from the original quartet that Parrini does not
replicate. He is not a Canadian, and the St. Lawrence is a very Canadian
ensemble, committed to showcasing contemporary composers from its homeland
and often playing for a pittance to bring music to secluded concert
halls in the provinces.
And by bringing another
man into the quartet, SLSQ has skewed the balance to the male side.
But according to Nuttall, Shiffman, and Robertson, there was no specific
effort made to replace Hoover with another woman. During the search
process, they auditioned an equal number of men and women.
"I think in any group
there's a circus aspect to deal with," Robertson says. Citing the
celebrated Ying Quartet—composed entirely of siblings, one sister
and three brothers—Robertson says, "David Ying always talks
about the ‘freak show’ aspect of a quartet of brothers and
sister. Our ‘circus aspect’ was that we were all Canadian—and
then the two-and-two thing. Well, Alberto’s a man, and he’s
from Italy! So there goes our freak show. Oh well."
Haydn
in the Dormitory
While the quartet has weathered
a change in personnel, its mission remains unchanged. An important part
of that mission is what SLSQ members call "outreach." And
it hasn’t been easy. When it first set up shop at Stanford, the
group immediately started doing on-campus concerts, usually attended
by up to 600 enthusiastic fans—most from off campus.
"We are the 'ensemble
in residence' at Stanford University," says Shiffman, "and
our first responsibility has to be to speak to the students on campus.
Unfortunately, that’s not who was showing up for a performance
of classical music."
When initial outreach measures
failed–such tactics as reducing or eliminating ticket prices for
students–the quartet hit upon a typically radical notion. "The
dorm life here is the center of the student experience," Nuttall
says. "These are preassembled groups of 60–70 people. So we
thought, 'Fine. We'll just go there and perform in the dorms.' So we
started doing that, performing in the dorm living rooms, within touching
length of the students—and it was amazing! The energy in that room,
that first time, was just stunning. And not just stunning for them,
but for us, the excitement we felt coming off that living room full
of first-time classical listeners was really amazing."
The quartet has since performed
a dozen or so such concerts, and the dorm concerts have actually led
to an increase in student attendance at the official concert series.
"We had a great experience
the other day," says Shiffman. "We were eating lunch in the
cafeteria and this student came by—he's a local DJ for dances—and
he recognized us from one of the dorm concerts. He said, 'Hey, ever
since your concert, I've been trying to find all the Shostakovich quartets!’"
"He was very
excited," laughs Nuttall, "about Shostakovich! It was
great."
That word again: exciting.
Aside from the word crazy, it's the most oft-repeated adjective of the
day. Then again, creating excitement is what SLSQ seems determined to
accomplish, deliberately opposing the common belief that classical music
is, at its best, background music, soothing and relaxing, an oasis of
calm in a busy world.
"I'm tired of the idea
that classical music is soothing," says Shiffman. "People
who say that should walk into the middle of a Beethoven quartet, a Bartók
quartet, any number of pieces, and they'll see that classical music
is not an oasis of calm. It's an oasis of life experience."
"When I want an oasis
of calm, I put on a Coldplay CD," says Nuttall, referring to the
popular British pop band. "But if I listen to Haydn, I get all
worked up."
"Having classical music
in the background," adds Robertson, "would be like having
a dinner party while in the background there’s someone standing
there reciting really great poetry—or like hanging a great work
of art on your locker-room wall."
And, Nuttall adds, what
classical music needs is more musicians willing to take more risks,
to go a little crazy, all in order to show the inexperienced masses
exactly how exciting this music can be—and already is.
"Joining a group can
be a little like joining a cult," he laughs. "You can get
sucked into the mind-set of, 'I have to play perfectly—or else
I will die!' That can be really dangerous. Obviously, you want
to be able to do everything right, you want to play flawlessly, you
want to play perfectly together and in tune, blah blah blah—and
that’s what our goal is—but along the way you have to make
choices.
"Is it better to have
some good stuff that's exciting, or to try for perfection
and end up being boring? If you look at all the really great
performers throughout history, rarely is someone remembered for playing
perfectly. They are remembered because they're exciting!"
What SLSQ Plays
First violinist Geoff Nuttall
plays the 1770 J.B. Guadagnini that he recently acquired. He uses several
bows, including a W.E. Hill with fleur-de-lis. Barry Shiffman plays
a restored Gioffredo Cappa, dating between 1680 and 1690 (making it
the oldest instrument in the group). His primary bow was crafted by
Canadian bow maker Michael Vann and commissioned for the 1992 Banff
International String Quartet Competition. Lesley Robertson owns a "nonaristocratic"
viola, made by John Newton of Desporo, Ontario, Canada, who used wood
salvaged from a 19th-century factory. "It was either the viola
or a 1985 Chevette," she says of her purchase. "It was a hard
decision." Her bow is by Eugene Sartory. Alberto Parrini plays
a composite cello from the Stanford instrument collection: body, scroll,
and neck by Gilbetti, with a top replaced by Giuseppe Guarneri (filius
Andrea). He uses a German-made bow by Egidius Dorfler.
Both Sides Now
"I think any string
quartet should be forced to play the old dead guys," says Geoff
Nuttall of the St. Lawrence String Quartet. "And the early music
quartets should be forced to play modern stuff—because it can't
be underestimated, the importance of being liberated by different musical
experiences." The SLSQ, for the record, plays the dead guys and
the new stuff, having made a name with its spirited presentations of
works by Mozart, Bartók, and Haydn, along with original compositions
by Osvaldo Golijov, Patrick Cardy, and Jonathan Berger. Why not focus
on one or the other, either classical or modern? "[Doing both]
frees us interpretively," explains Barry Shiffman. "When youÕre
rehearsing Golijov—Dreams and Prayers, Yiddishbbuk,
whateverÕs on your plate that dayÑit's so free and so exciting. And
to bring that sense of freedom back to something like a Haydn quartet,
then your experience with the dead guys will be that much fresher."
Adds violist Lesley Robertson, "If you pay attention, new works
and old works can inform one another by making you think, by making
you stretch in your approach to a particular piece, because then you
can use that knowledge when you approach a very different kind of piece.
It's wonderful."
Photo
of St. Lawrence String Quartet copyright by Eric H. Cheng.
