Brahms Review

American Record Guide Review
By Bender
March/April 2009

Pianist Xiayin Wang was born in China, violinist Bella Horvath in Hungary, violist Tom Palny in Israel, cellist Raphael Dube in France. Finishing school for the first three turned out to be the Manhattan School of Music in New York City. For cellist Dube it was the Mannes College of Music, not too many blocks away. They call themselves the Amity Players, and as you can see, they are a global initiative all by themselves. More to the point, their Brahms is very, very good – good enough, in fact, to suggest that if Brahms is going to maintain his place in music’s pantheon for generations to come, which he most assuredly is, then it will not hurt his cause at all to have the interest of young groups like this.
Wang (her first name is pronounced Shy-INN) and the Amity play Brahms with love, understanding, a proper sense of measure, and scintillating technique. To them the lyrical, poetic side of the composer is a vital factor that offers a compelling balance to the more hell-bent moments in these works, such as the Rondo all Zingarese of Quartet 1’s last movement (“Zingarese” meaning gypsy style). In that movement the group fully matches the joy of the Beaux Arts in their set of all three piano quartets on Philips, though not quite the quicksilver of Argerich, Kremer, Bashmet, and Maisky on DG. It is exciting stuff, enough almost to make one think of Brahms as a free spirit.

Is there a composer who could make more out of two-note motif than Brahms? Not likely. Take the descending two notes that are then inverted to launch the Fourth Symphony. Or take the somber, descending two notes at the beginning of the coiled, labyrinthine world of the Piano Quartet No. 3. How completely the group conveys the grief that lies at the heart of the music. Their poise and maturity get deeply into a piece Brahms was working on in the years (1854-56) when his friend and mentor Robert Schumann attempted suicide and then died in a mental home. Brahms put the score away until 1873, then rewrote it substantially.

The work begins mournfully and ends mournfully. In between, motifs and moods are unfurled in an insistent manner that initially can be hard to absorb but rewards additional listening, like so much great music. While the three strings are never obscured by the piano, it is Wang’s playing that dominates the recording and controls the architecture of the piece. That is pretty much as it should be, the piano part having been composed by a brilliant, dominating pianist.

A doctoral candidate at the Manhattan School, Wang, based on her work here, is a young pianist of immense talent, way beyond promise. Her treble scale-work is discreet, effortless, and pearly white of tone. In IV there is a moment when her repeated crystalline downward passages become like warm raindrop beckoning everything below to flower. Her rhythm is filled with controlled energy, and when Brahms lets loose she is ready to ride. The scherzo (II), for example, begins with a chug-a-chug rhythmic pattern, similar to the finale of the Horn Trio, and Wang and her escorts whip it along like Cossacks on a mission.