Talented quartet masters composer's difficult music with ease November 15, 2003 By Wilma Salisbury A concert devoted to the complete string quartets of a major composer might be expected to take listeners through a step-by-step evolution of his style. But such was not the case in the extraordinary performance of composer Elliott Carter's complete quartets Wednesday night at the Cleveland Museum of Art. Carter, the 94-year-old dean of American composers, already had found his own voice by the time he wrote his Quartet No. 1 (1951). Having worked his way through neoclassicism and serialism, he developed his own dissonant atonal language and stuck with it through his five formidably difficult quartets. In terms of string sonorities, he did not advance beyond the richly expressive techniques of Bartok. Instead, he moved forward in realms of rhythm, texture and form. The Pacifica Quartet - violinists Simin Ganatra and Sibbi Bernhardsson, violist Masumi Per Rostad and cellist Brandon Vamos - spoke Carter's complex musical language as though it was their native tongue. Passionately involved in the inherent drama of each work, they conquered rigorous technical challenges and drew listeners into the composer's world of deep thought and intense emotion. In the First Quartet, Carter allowed his musical ideas to unfold at a leisurely pace. Lyrical lines contrast with busy figurations. Long, sustained tones give way to extended conversations. Rhythms pile up, shift and swirl. Tensions mount up to a nearly unbearable degree, then release in expansive phrases. More than 45 minutes long, the fascinating work introduces the composer's unique way of treating each instrument like a character in a nonverbal play. Using the musical equivalent of cinematic techniques, he zooms in on one musical element, dissolves to another and pursues several ideas simultaneously. The players argue, demand, go their separate ways and ultimately agree to disagree. In Quartet No. 2, winner of the 1960 Pulitzer Prize for Music, the instruments are even more strongly defined as strong-willed individuals. Expressing themselves within their own space and time frame, they are willing to listen to one another. But sometimes, they all speak at once. Although the second violin stays calm, the other instruments break out in solo cadenzas. After a series of concise confrontations, the music simply disintegrates. In Quartet No. 3 (1971), also a Pulitzer Prize winner, the quartet divides into duos that perform two different pieces at the same time. Like couples projected on a split screen, they play out their relationships without awareness of the other party. Yet, their angular gestures and animated conversations intersect at meaningful moments that heighten the separate dramas. Although each work takes the players into thorny musical territory, Quartet No. 4 (1986) probes into the craggiest regions. Each individual again takes a definite stand, then all seek to resolve their differences in a serious game of lead-or-follow, give-and-take. Quartet No. 5 (1995) sounds less harsh. Treating one another like equal partners, the players take turns singing something important. They ask questions, respond with civility and finish one another's sentences. Amid abrupt changes of tempo and texture, they produce ghostly harmonics that float from their strings like fading memories. Presented as part of the Aki Festival of New Music, the mesmerizing concert demonstrated how accessible the most difficult music can be when played with the artistic integrity and communicative power of the Pacifica Quartet.