"I've always wanted the string quartet to be vital, and energetic, and cool, and not afraid to kick ass, and be absolutely beautiful and ugly if it has to be…To tell the story with grace and humor and depth." David Harrington, Kronos Quartet founder/lead violinist
It's never been enough for the Kronos Quartet to be one of the leading string quartets in the world. They have also, arguably, been responsible for the creation of more new music than any other performing arts organization of the past half-century, having commissioned some 650 new works over the past 35 years, with another 50 currently in progress. (Hell, Prince Esterházy only got 68 quartets out of Haydn…)
The first half of their program at Zankel Hall last night featured a series of shorter works from around the world, all New York or World Premieres. Israeli composer Raz Mesinai's Crossfader was driving and intense, incorporating elements from electronic dance music such as delays and flanging. Ramallah Underground's muddled Tashweesh was followed by a sober pair of works from the Greek and the Yiddish traditions. Polish composer Hanna Kulenty's spare and sad String Quartet No. 4, "A Cradle Song," was inspired by the death of her 10 year old daughter, the cradle of the title sounding more like a rusted fence creaking on a desolate prairie.
Percussionist and composer Glenn Kotche - best known as Wilco's drummer – joined Kronos onstage for his Anomaly, which David Harrington asked Kotche to write after hearing his 2006 solo effort, Mobile. Harrington encouraged Kotche to write music that was, "rhythmic with percussive colors…something vital and beautiful." Kotche's response was to have the Kronos players double up with an arsenal of percussion gadgets: maracas, bells, even straw ripped in pieces. It was melodic and pretty, but felt stuck in orbit until Kotche slipped in on his drumkit, adding a soft yet propulsive rhythm that brought it closer to ritual.
Harrington says he started Kronos in 1973 after hearing a performance of George Crumb's Black Angels (1970): a defiant apocalyptic work that blew apart all convention, employing amplification, recorded electronics, gongs, even bowed water glasses. After countless performances of the work over the past four decades, Harrington apparently felt it needed a bit of a refresh, and so he engaged stage designer Laurence Neff to give the piece a new look. Neff hung the instruments on wires, dressed the players in black and spread them out across the stage. I assume all this was meant to aid the sense of alienation, but ended up becoming an unnecessary distraction. Nevertheless, Kronos played the hell out of it, shouting the occasional text with ferocity. Strong medicine, liberally prescribed. (More pics below.)