Franz Schubert (1797-1828)
Complete String Quartets
Complete String Trios
String Quintet
Piano Quintet, The Trout
Movements and fragments for String Quartet
Overtures and German Dances
Leipziger Streichquartett
Michael Sanderling (cello), Christian Zacharias (piano)
No recording dates or locations supplied
MDG 307 2358-2 [10 CDs: 618]

Schubert’s great contemporary in string quartet writing was, of course, Beethoven, whose achievement in that genre was, on balance, more consistent and more significant than Schubert’s. That helps to explain why there are so many more available sets of complete Beethoven quartets than Schubert’s. In a small number of his later quartets, however, Schubert’s achievement was every bit as great, which a survey of his complete quartet oeuvre enormously rewarding. There aren’t that many complete Schubert surveys on disc, and it isn’t a good use of anyone’s time to argue over whether this survey from the Leipzig Quartet is the most complete of them all. Suffice it to say that it’s lovely from start to finish, and if you want to immerse yourself in this music, this is a highly recommendable way to do it.

There are ten discs in this set because this is a super-complete version of Schubert’s quartets. You get them all plus the stand-along movements and the fragments. You also get the string trios, the quintet and the Trout piano quintet, as well as assorted fancies like the Overtures for quartet. Already, therefore, this set scores marks for comprehensiveness, and the general approach is that each disc contains one extensive, great work plus some other far less-well-known things – probably a shrewd strategy devised for when these discs were first released separately. None of that would matter, however, were the playing and recording not excellent – and, happily, they are.

Let’s address the famous quartets first, starting with the glorious final quartet in D, which is actually the very first thing in this set. Right away, you hear what marks out this ensemble as special. There’s forensic attention to detail in the way the opening phrase resembles both a fanfare and a question mark, and there’s a tailoring of their playing to every situation, such as in the daringly slow tempo for the tremolando section straight after this which seems to suggest a universe of possibility before bounding in a lively allegro. The slow movement is leisurely and lovely, but interrupted by some significant storms, while the scherzo is spidery and lively before a terrifically exuberant, final tarantella.

They play the A minor Quartet D804 with a very effective air of weary sadness rather than searing tragedy. The first movement is wiry, lithe and full of suppressed tension, but always played with a veneer of beauty and grace. The Rosamunde variations of the second movement are played with restrained grace and beauty, while there is a restless melancholy to the Menuet, and the finale wears an unconvincingly thin major-key smile. If it’s searing tragedy you’re looking for, however, then the Death and the Maiden quartet has it in spades. The Leipzigers play it with serrated-edge passion all the way through, the first movement feeling as if it’s the countdown to something inevitably dreadful, while the Scherzo has a particularly excoriating feel to it. The finale is a headlong, terrible tarantella, and the variations take you on a full-scale journey that makes you feel changed by the end.

So far so good, but they bring the same dedication to quality and attention to detail to the lesser and less well-known works which, for the sake of compression, I’ll run through quickly. D87 in E flat is charming, but they play it as though it is a profound, mature masterpiece, and therefore it’s completely winning. The B-flat quartet D112, on the other hand, does sound like a mature masterpiece, for all that it probably still qualifies as an early work. The Leipzigers get right inside its tonal and emotional ambiguity, bringing dark-brown intensity to its slow movement and a touch of seriousness even to the smiling finale. D74 in D major positively bristles with youthful energy and irrepressible vigour, while D36 is gentle, unassuming and full of classical poise, with a pleasing question-and-answer style first movement and a winning slow movement played with gorgeous softness. D94 has one of the most purely beguiling opening subjects you’d hope to hear, rapidly undermined by a spidery counter-theme which introduces some of the will-he-won’t-he minor/major ambiguity that characterises so much of Schubert’s greatest music. The later movements are less consequential, but the slow movement wears a (mostly) charming smile. D46 in C major has a wispy, searching opening not unlike that of Mozart’s Dissonance quartet, albeit less exploratory, but like Mozart’s, it sets off into a first movement of busy intensity and harmonic experimentation. After this exhilaration, the slow movement is gently reflective, and the finale, coming after a hearty Minuet, is a fizz of energy. The early C major quartet D32 is busy and fun but with surprisingly intense minor key slow movement and (less intense) finale.

As with most genres he tried, Schubert struggled to complete several of his quartets, and this set also gathers several single movements and fragments, all of which are interesting, and some of which make you wish that he had stuck at it to solve properly the problems he had set himself. The earliest thing in the set, D2c, seems about to go to some very exciting places before it is cut off at barely a minute. What a shame! The Leipzigers take the shrewd decision to play all the fragments just as they were left, so that all of them seem to break off in mid-sentence, increasing the poignance of the effect in a way that tugs the heart.

There are also some very amiable, detached complete movements. The most famous of these is, of course, the C minor Quartettsatz, which shudders with the intensity of a horror film. The D703 movement sounds almost painfully genteel when heard next to it. The impressive structural unity of D60 and D68 feels as if they could each have been the start of something very good indeed and the stand-alone Overtures are very engaging. 

There are bonuses in the quintets, too. Pianist Christian Zacharias sounds as if he’s having terrific fun in the Trout Quintet, and that gives a real touch of a sparkle to the performance, particularly in the faster movements. The last performance of this work that I reviewed was a grimly unsmiling one from Elisabeth Leonskaja and the Alban Berg Quartet (review), but this one from Zacharias and the Leipzigers is a reminder that, while this work has depths, it’s fundamentally a light-hearted one with a broad smile.

Cellist Michael Sanderling, perhaps better known now as a conductor, joins them for a gorgeous performance of the String Quintet. The sound is warm enough to melt a glacier, particularly in the lyrical second subjects, but even in the busier moments, there is underlying warmth and mellifluous beauty, and repeatedly they play the music as though they’re groping tentatively for its meaning, something I found enormously moving. There may be more beautiful versions of the slow movement out there, but while I was listening to this performance I couldn’t think of one, and the slowly played central Trio of the third movement feels like opening a window onto the Elysian Fields, even if the outer Scherzo sections are a little safe. The finale is sensational, more decisive and structurally integral than it sounds in many hands, making it a terrific closing argument to a tightly organised performance. 

We also get the String Trios, all of which are brief but completely charming. D581 is the very image of amiability, its first movement like a character politely introducing himself, and the other movements maintain a gently affable air. It’s hardly world-changingly great music, but it’s a very interesting supplement in this company, as is the properly invigorating set of German Dances D 89. There is little particularly amusing about the set of “Comic Ländler” D354, but they’re pleasant on the ear. 

If it’s important to you, be aware that exposition and Minuet repeats are observed meticulously, even in the fragments. Surprisingly, no details of the recordings dates or location are given, which is a bit mysterious, though perhaps it’s because these discs have been released separately as stand-alone issues previously. The marvellously complete booklet notes more than make up for this, though, with some information included about every work in the set, making this even more recommendable. MDG’s recording is beautifully warm in every work. 

This really is a set to lose yourself in. The performances of the great quartets need fear comparisons with no other, and they’re a gateway into a treasure trove of wonderful music that will give tremendous joy for many years. It may not be as significant a corpus of work as Beethoven’s, but who cares about importance when there’s such deep delight to discover?

Simon Thompson