I am not silent

Dmitri Shostakovich’s last string quartet begins like a lullaby. The consolation does not last long and gives way to an oppressive agony. All six movements of the E flat minor Quartet No. 15 are adagios: miniatures of suffocation, harshly crescending single notes in the serenade, the viola weeps in the nocturne. The funeral march in a rich minor is followed by a very last outburst from the cello, trembling chains of semiquavers, dying thirds. Shostakovich was seriously ill and died a year later, in 1975.

The Hagen Quartet has changed the order of its Shostakovich cycle for the 40th anniversary of the ensemble in the Boulez Saal in Berlin. Due to changes in rehearsals due to illness, the last three quartets were played on Wednesday, followed by Nos. 10 to 12 on June 20th.

An evening full of ghost music, uncompromising, highly concentrated. Already in the one-movement Quartet No. 13 everyone dies for himself: Everything melodious appears scattered, the harmony presses and torments, the spaces become ever narrower. Then someone asserts his ego against the collective by using his last strength and makes no secret of his forlornness. Also in the F sharp major Quartet No. 14, with distorted dances on the volcano. As soon as it sounds folksy familiar, the music drifts back into the uncomfortable.

The Hagensche sibling trio and Rainer Schmidt (second violin) impress with their unanimous defense of the subjective. Veronika Hagen’s unbelievably down-to-earth viola, Rainer Schmidt’s restrained intensity, Lukas Hagen’s violin singing, aware of his futility, and Clemens Hagen’s defiant expressiveness on the cello combine to form a moving portrait of a suffering person who refuses to remain silent.
Ecce homo: The gloomy balance sheet of the Russian composer, who was at times celebrated and at times left out of the limelight, just won’t let you go.