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LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN The Complete Quartets, Vol. VIII

String Quartet in B-Flat Major, Op. 18 No. 6 [26:25] 1. Allegro con brio (6:34) 2. Adagio ma non troppo (7:38) 3, Scherzo: Allegro (3:11) 4, La Malinconia (3:39) 5. Allegretto quasi Allegro (5:04) String Quartet in F Major, Op. 135 [24:00] 6. Allegretto (6:14) 7. Vivace (3:16) 8. Lento assai, cantante e tranquillo (6:41) 9. Grave ma non troppo tratto: Allegro (6:48) 10. Große Fuge, Op. 133 (15:05)

ORFORD STRING QUARTET Andrew Dawes, violin Kenneth Perkins, violin Terence Helmer, viola Denis Brott, cello

TOTAL PLAYING TIME: 65:50

0 N 1994 Delos Productions, Inc., P.O. Box 343, Sonoma, California 95476-9998 (800) 364-0645 • (707) 996-3844 • Fax (707) 932-0600 Made in USA• www.delosmusic.com

Co-Producers: Marc Aubort / Joanna Nickrenz Executive Producer: Amelia S. Haygood Recording Engineer: Marc Aubort Design:Tri Arts, Inc. Recorded: Emmanuel Presbyterian Church Toronto, Canada Feb. 3 - 7, 1986 (Op.18, No.6), Apr. 16 -19, 1985 (Op. 135 & Op. 133).

NOTES ON THE PROGRAM IN ENGLISH

Beethoven took the challenge of the String Quartet with utmost seriousness. He spent over two years composing the six Quartets, Opus 18, and preceded this labor with a lengthy “apprenticeship” in the form of his string trios, Op. 3, 8 and 9, and the elegant arrangement for string quartet of his piano sonata, Op. 14 no. 1. In 1799 he dedicated an early draft of the Op. 18 no. 1 to his friend, the violinist Karl Amenda. Even in its unperfected version, the quartet was already a masterpiece, and, as Beethoven’s sketch books show, one which had undergone painstaking revision and self-criticism. But a year later, with the publication of the first three of the Op. 18 works, Beethoven wrote to Amenda, urging him “Do not lend your quartet to anybody because I have greatly changed it: for only now have I learned how to write quartets properly, as you will observe when you receive them.” A sixyear chasm separates the last of Op. 18, completed in 1800, and the three “Razumovsky” Quartets, Beethoven’s next endeavors in the medium. The intervening span was a period of vast stylistic growth, and so too were the thirteen years between 1811 and 1824, isolating the last of the “Middle” Quartets (Op. 95 in F Minor) from those of the “Late” period. Although the differences between the “Early,” “Middle” and “Late” quartets are readily apparent, all three groups of works clearly represent Beethoven’s respective phases at their highest peaks of development. Even in the early Op. 18 Quartets, Beethoven is his own Titan, taking his stylistic and technical leads from Haydn and Mozart, to be sure, but inflecting them with an aura of his own. And in these Op. 18 pieces, one also discovers motivic links and structural innovations that lead inescapably to the miracles of his last quartets a quarter-century later. To call Beethoven’s string quartets influential would be to indulge in grievous understatement, for in fact, the creative ebullition — as stated in these miraculous works — sparked

tremors that shocked the annals of composition for more than a century. Consider, among countless examples, the almost outright quotations from Op. 132 in Mendelssohn’s early A Minor String Quartet, Op. 13, or the hovering of Op. 127’s spirit about Schumann’s Piano Quartet, Op. 47. The course of music history might have been completely different had Beethoven, Mozart and Schubert each lived another twenty years, but even lacking this conjectural extension, we can find premonition of Bartok’s quartets in the Große Fuge and in the finale from Op. 127. Beethoven not only forced the world of music to listen with new ears, new values, new aesthetics; he also forced new technical standards to come into being. He had little use for the status quo, although he borrowed from “tradition” even when setting it on its ears. To the critic who expressed bewilderment over one of the “Razumovsky” quartets, he replied, “Oh they are not for you, but for a later age!”. And to the hapless Schuppanzigh, who complained that one particularly hazardous passage was unplayable, he screamed, “Do you think that I care for your damned fiddle when the spirit seizes me?”. But for all his reputation for irascibility, Beethoven could, and sometimes did, accept criticism. When his publisher voiced concern that the Große Fuge was an overly arduous and aesthetically unsuitable ending for the Op. 130 Quartet, he confounded all expectations and composed another, far more appropriate, finale. And with all the fist-shaking and gristly intensity, one also finds a lyricism and repose, not to mention a shattering humility. Have there ever been utterances so emotionally disarming as the “Hymn of Thanksgiving” from Op. 132, the Lento Assai from Op. 135, the Cavatina from Op. 130? Or, for that matter, the wondrous slow movement of Op. 18 no. 1? It is for such miracles that Beethoven’s String Quartets have been regarded as perhaps the ultimate pinnacle of Western Music — one of civilization’s sublime wonders....

Quartet No. 6, in B Flat Major, Op. 18, No. 6 As already noted, the ostensible “First” of the Opus 18 Quartets was composed after No. 3 in D Major. Conversely, there is reason to believe that the work under discussion, Op. 18 No. 6, was followed chronologically by No. 4 in C Minor. In many ways, this B-flat Major Quartet is structurally the most innovative of the set. But, by first giving us three movements that are formally unexceptionable, Beethoven keeps that fact in abeyance until the Finale. The opening Allegro con brio is a giddy affair, full of dizzying momentum. Its impetus in large part results from the rotary eighth notes that pass back and forth between second violin, viola and — in the development section — cello. The first subject, with its turn followed by broken sixths in upward motion, is somewhat reminiscent of the “Turkish” section in the last movement of Mozart’s A Major Violin Concerto, K. 219. This idea dances its way into a bridge passage characterized by syncopes and biting staccato scales. The second theme proper is a more lyrical affair, although its jaunty dotted figure and grace notes keep us from forgetting the pervading thrust of the movement. The development is broken down into several stages — beginning with the first subject and all its aspects, then (after a bar and a half rest) addressing the bridge passage’s scales. Again, the first theme is worked over, but this time in more gentle fashion. In fact, Beethoven quite uncharacteristically lets his development calm to a tranquil pianissimo — thus arriving at the recapitulation in a manner more usually deemed “Mozartean” than “Beethovenian.” The terse format of this opening movement dispenses with both introduction and coda but (to compensate?) Beethoven directs that both halves are to be repeated — a request only rarely granted in performance. The quietly meditative Adagio ma non troppo is in the subdominant E-flat major. The first four bars of its opening melody are sung by the first violin. The second violin takes up the balance of this eight bar period while the displaced leader deftly interjects embellishing side comments. After a four bar subor-

dinate clause in which all four players partake, the theme, now decorated by punctuating arpeggios, returns to the first violin while the three lower voices furnish a playful ostinato. A new section introduces the ominous cloud of E-flat minor — its eerie character is further emphasized by the gaunt unison between first violin and cello, both played pianissimo two octaves apart. After this central diversion, the opening melody returns, now decorated by a much more active and complex rhythmic ostinato backdrop. The third movement, marked simply Scherzo: Allegro, is a fine early specimen of Beethoven’s fondness for rhythmic deviltry. Using the devices of offbeat sforzandos and a scansion that shifts back and forth between the written 3/4 metre and what sounds like 6/8 (sometimes divided into twos: at other times, into threes) Beethoven torments his listeners in delightful fashion (particularly those who are incessant foot-tappers!). The Trio, with its dancing sixteenth notes before the beat, sets things back on an unambiguous course. We will encounter a like kind of rhythmic displacement in Op. 74, and in Op. 135. But as noted, the real surprise of this quartet is its astonishing last section. The blitheness of the foregoing three movements simply leaves us unprepared for the searing intensity of the Adagio that now follows. Beethoven directs that it be played “La Malinconia: Questo pezzo si deve trattare colla piu gran’ delicatezza” (Melancholy: This section is to be played with the greatest delicacy of feeling). Here, in effect, are the seeds of early Romanticism — the Stato d’animo (brooding) that was in the air at the time, and which was shortly to prove so popular, both in the opera house and in the realm of instrumental music. This means, of course, that, for all the fervor, one must allow for a certain tongue-in-cheek theatricality, a bit of melodrama, in the despair. Still, coming in Opus 18, this long introduction (like the already mentioned slow movements of Op. 7, Op. 10 No. 3 and Op. 18 No. 1) brings a new emotional depth remarkable in itself, and

even more so since it is thoroughly integrated with the jaunty, tripping Allegretto quasi Allegro that follows in its wake. As with the Grave of the Pathétique Sonata’s first movement, Beethoven returns to La Malinconia at two later junctures (this foreshadowing the format in the final section of the Op. 110 Piano Sonata with its synthesis of Recitativo, Arioso and Fuga). It was at about this time (1799) that Beethoven had first inklings of his impending deafness: justification enough for feelings of melancholy. Quartet No. 16 in F Major, Op. 135 There is a quizzical little piece, composed around 1818, in one of Beethoven’s sketchbooks (subsequently published as Werke Ohne Opus No. 60 in the Kinsky-Halm index). This “Ziemlich lebhaft” (somewhat lively) is less than a minute long but offers 39 measures of intricate rhythms and intense voiceleading. And though written for the pianoforte, its textures and colors are plainly transferable to stringed instruments. Beethoven’s last string quartet (and, save for the new finales to Op. 130, his last composition) commences in a manner remarkably close to that obscure Klavierstück. Having scaled peaks of inspiration hitherto unknown, and having stretched formal materials and expressive dimensions to surreal limits in the other late quartets, Beethoven set more modest goals for himself in Op. 135. The work is in many respects a regression: for one thing it is cast in the conventional four movements; for another, it is less than half as long as the other late quartets. Nor does it take itself particularly seriously. But simplicity, as we all know, can have its own sublimity. Beethoven’s Op. 135 certainly proves the point: it is almost as if the composer was consciously being spartan, eschewing innovation and pretension (but not profundity), in order to prove his observation that “what I write now bears no resemblance to what I wrote formerly: it is somewhat better.” From its initial phrases, the opening Allegretto establishes the irrefutable certainty that Op. 135’s brevity is a concision

born of economical authority, not from dearth of inspiration. Every little gesture has its function here: note the masterstroke of the recurrent figuration of two upward thirty-second notes: it is the first thing one hears from the viola beginning, but already, in the second measure, its reiteration by the first violin gives the figuration a new, gently satirical meaning (akin to a thumb on the nose). Observe, too, the jovial alternations of droll staccato with delicate legato: or of arco and pizzicato — not to mention the quick juxtapositions of loud and soft dynamics (typical for Beethoven). And, once again, we hear thematic material engagingly shifting, leapfrog-style, from instrument to instrument (but this time in the most good-natured manner). Teasing syncopations emphasize the levity of the Vivace second movement. In this masterful scherzo, each of the four instruments accents differently — the first violin places the stress on the second beat of each 3/4 measure; the second violin, on the third; viola on the first; and cello, on both first and third (the scoreless listener is further disoriented by unison E flats that intentionally throw the rhythm completely off kilter). The central Trio, played at the same tempo, has the first violin dancing and leaping all over (at one point, from a high B flat to a G more than two octaves lower). In the meantime, the others reiterate, with increasing obstinacy, a five-note ostinato derived from the first fiddle’s initial burst of exuberance. The scherzo’s da capo is followed immediately by a seven bar coda that replaces the previously noted E flat unisons with the finality of F major chords (the last of them, played forte, comes as a snappish shock). The slow movement, Lento assai, cantante e tranquillo, is Beethoven’s farewell to variation form. Two measures hauntingly establish the tonality of D-flat major, and out of the sustained chords, the first violin’s song emerges, sotto voce — a hymnal melody of haunting beauty. Four succinct variations follow in the continuous, flowing manner already noted in corresponding movements of Op. 127 and 131. The second of these, più lento, slips enharmonically into the key of C-sharp minor and then to its relative E major. If Op. 135 as an entity can be said to repre-

sent a return to stark simplicity, its third movement represents that cultivation of barest essentials in its purest distillation. Over the first page of the last movement, Beethoven cryptically writes “Der Schwer Gefaßte Entschluß” (a decision made with difficulty). Then he places in juxtaposition two motifs which recur in the ensuing Finale: the cello’s Grave ma non troppo tratto “Muß es Sein?” (“Must it be?”) and the first violin’s answering Allegro “Es muß sein! Es muß sein!” (“It must be!”). In fact, the two ostensibly conflicting ideas are closely related — the second being an inversion of the first. The two mottos are intertwined with yet another theme that first appears in the cello part in the key of A major (at bar 53. Just before the end, this last melody returns, played by all four instruments in delicate pizzicatos. Then, picking up their bows once more, the players drive the work to a good natured but resolute conclusion. All of us are accustomed to seeking (and finding) the deepest philosophical contemplations in the last quartets of Beethoven. So it might disappoint you to hear it suggested (by Beethoven scholars more learned than your annotator) that the composer was, in this instance, in all probability, facetiously pondering not the essential question of life itself, but a problem of less than earth-shaking import such as whether to pay the inevitable rent to his insistent landlady! Große Fuge in B Flat Major, Op. 133 The wisdom of Beethoven’s decision to write a second finale for Op. 130 works two ways: Not only are the first five movements of the quartet better served by the replacement; the Große Fuge itself — which, as we will now discover, is actually a three-part work replete with introduction and epilogue — better stands as a self-contained entity... Very often, the torrents of creative inspiration will break the floodgates of reason and Beethoven, confronted by endless fugal possibilities for the motif he used for Op. 140, momentarily lost his sense of proportion: instead of erecting, for the quartet’s summation, a consummating monument, he found himself with a structural white elephant (or, less poetically, with some eighteen minutes of music of beastly difficulty). The Overtura commences with striding unisons proclaiming

the germ cell which is to form the basis of the entire composition. Two more statements of the same idea follow in speeded-up form. Then, in contrasting meno mosso e moderato tempo (the original indication is Allegro), a more flowing variant foreshadows the future shape of the subject in the second fugue. Returning to Allegro tempo, there is one further statement of the same motto, each of its notes detached from the others and sounded in cryptic echo effects similar to those heard in the recitativo of the Piano Sonata, Op. 110. The first Fuga is, along with the finale to the Seventh Symphony, a Dionysian revel — one of the most purely orgiastic, grating and insistent musical sequences ever devised. The instruments literally saw away at a rhythmically obsessive pattern for 128 bars of unrelenting fortissimo, sforzando, forte and ben marcato. So wild is the mêlée that one is almost apt to overlook a curious feature: in this opening section, the actual germ cell is relegated to the secondary role of counter subject. The first Fuga ends with a surprising and abrupt modulation to G-flat major and the second Fuga, Meno mosso e moderato, begins. In its flowing, lyrical treatment of the thematic material, this curvaceous and (relatively speaking) ingratiating interlude leads to the third, and longest, section, Allegro molto e con brio. The tonality has reverted to B-flat major and the homecoming is celebrated by a new, lighthearted incarnation of the fugue subject — ebullient and dancing. But further adventures are awaiting us imminently: the mood becomes frenzied and active again, but the delirium this time is less abrasive, with the instruments dodging in and out of the undulating trills like firefighters on a herculean (and successful) rescue mission. The trills, of course derive from the fugue subject itself. Elements from the first two fugues are recapitulated (along with the jaunty beginning of the third). Then, just before the end, there are outright quotes of these ideas, much like those heard in the introduction of the Ninth Symphony choral finale. The rhythmic obsession of the first Fuga, now accompanied by hammering triplets, drives the piece to its conclusion. Harris Goldsmith

PROGRAMMEINLEITUNG AUF DEUTSCH

Die Gattung des Streichquartetts bedeutete für Beethoven von Anfang an eine ernst zu nehmende Herausforderung. Er verbrachte über zwei Jahre mit der Komposition der sechs Quartette op. 18; als umfangreiche “Gesellenstücke” entstanden vorher bereits die Streichtrios op. 3, 8 und 9 sowie das geschmackvolle Streichquartett-Arrangement seiner Klaviersonate op. 14, 1. 1799 widmete er einen frühen Entwurf bon op. 18, 1 seinem Freund, dem Geiger Karl Amenda. Dieses Quartett war bereits in dieser vorläufigen Fassung ein Meisterwerk; aus Beethovens Skizzenbüchern ist ausserdem zu ersehen, daß er es vorher selbstkritischen, sorgfältigen Revisionen unterzogen hatte. Als jedoch ein Jahr später die ersten drei Werke des op. 18 veröffentlicht wurden, schrieb Beethoven an Amenda: “Dein Quartett gib ja nicht weiter, weil ich es sehr umgeändert have, indem ich erst jetzt recht Quartetten zu schreiben weiß, was Du schon sehen wirst, wenn Du sie erhalten wirst!” Ein Zeitraum von 6 Jahren trennt das letzte Quartett von op. 18, vollendet im Jahre 1800, von den drei “Rasumowsky”-Quartetten, Beethovens nächsten Vorstössen in diese Gattung. Die dazwischen liegende Zeitspanne beinhaltet eine enorme stylistische Entwicklung, ebenso wie die dreizehn Jahre von 1811 bis 1824, die zwischen der Fertigstellung des letzten der “mittleren” Quartette (op. 95 in f-moll) und dem Beginn der in der letzten Schaffensperiode entstandenen “späten” Quartette vergehen. Trotz der offensichtlichen Unterschiede zwischen den “frühen”, “mittleren” und “späten” Streichquartetten repräsentieren alle drei Werkgruppen exemplarisch den Höhepunkt der jeweiligen Schaffensphase Beethovens. Bereits in den frühen Quartetten op. 18 steht Beethoven als ein Titan vor uns, der zwar kompositionstechnische Details von haydn und Mozart übernimmt, diese jedoch in eine völlig eigene Klangwelt integriert. Ferner entdeckt man in diesem op. 18 strukturelle Erneuerungen und motivische Bindeglieder, die unmißverständlich auf die einzigartigen letzten Quartette vorausweisen, die ein Vierteljahrhundert später entstehen sollten. Beethovens Streichquartette lediglich als “wegbereitend” zu bezeichnen, wäre eine immense Untertreibung. Diese beispiellosen

Werke, das Ergebnis einer wahren schËopferischen Explosion, beeinflußten die Entwicklung der Musik für mehr als ein Jahrhundert. Man beachte, neben zahllosen anderen Beispielen, die fast wörtlichen Zitate aud op. 132 in Mendelssohns frühem a-moll-Quartett op. 13, oder die spürbare Präsenz von op. 127 in Schumanns Klavier-Quartett op. 47. Die Musikgeschichte wäre wohl völlig anders verlaufen, hätten Beethoven, Mozart und Schubert jeweils zwanzig Jahre länger gelebt, aber auch ohne diese Hypothese finden sich bereits Vorahnungen von Bartóks Quartettstil in der “Großen Fuge” und im Finale von op. 127. Beethoven brachte die musikalische Welt nicht nur dazu, mit neuen Ohren zu hören, neue Werte zu erkennen und eine neue Ästhetik zu begründen; er erzwang auch einen neuen technischen Standard. Ein Festhalten an erreichten Maßstäben lehnte er ab; trotzdem bediente er sich der Tradition, auch dann, wenn er sie ad absurdum führte. Einem Kritiker, der sich bestürzt und verwirrt über die “Rasumowsky”Quartette äußerte, entgegnete er: “O, sie sind auch nicht für Sie, sondern für eine spätere Zeit!” Den unglücklichen Schuppanzigh, der sich über die angelbliche Unspielbarkeit einer besonders gewagten Stelle beschwerte, wies er zurecht: “Glaubt Er, daß ich an seine elende Geige denke, wenn der Geist zu mir spricht?” Trotzdem er als jähzornig bekannt war, akzeptierte er jedoch gelegentlich Kritik. Als sein Verleger die Sorge äusserte, daß die “Große Fuge” einen ästhetisch unbefriedigenden, weil zu anspruchsvollen Schluß für das Quartett op. 130 darstelle, komponierte er wider aller Erwzrten ein neues, weit angemesseneres Finale. Letztendlich findet man bei ihm neben aller stirnrunzelnder Anspannung und gelegentlich knorriger Heftigkeit auch lyrische, ruhevolle Passagen, sowie in erster Linie eine erschütternde Menschlichkeit. Gab es jemals eine emotional so anrührende Musik wie den “Dankgesang” aus op. 132, das Lento assai aus op. 135, die Cavatina aus op. 130 oder auch den herrlichen langsamen Satz von op. 18, 1? Es sind diese musikalischen Juwelen, denen Beethovens Streichquartette ihren Ruf als vielleicht Höchsten Gipfelpunkt der westlichen Musik verdanken — als eines der erhabenen Wunder unserer Zivilisation . . .

INTRODUCTION DE PROGRAMME EN FRANÇAIS

Beethoven a abordé le quatuor à cordes avec grand sérieux: il s’est “formé” sur les trios op. 3, 8 et 9, et sur l’arrangement élégant pour quatuor à cordes de sa sonate pour piano op. 14 no. 1, avant de passer plus de deux ans à composer ses six quatuors op. 18. En 1799 il a dédicacé à son ami le violoniste Karl Amenda une première ébauche du quatuor op. 18 no. 1, qui était déjà un chef-d’oeuvre, même avant les révisions minutieuses et l’autocritique auxquelles le compositeur s’est livré, à en juger par ses carnets. Un an plus tard, Beethoven a demandé à Amenda de ne pas prêter sa partition, cette dernière ayant déjà subi des modifications profondes pour l’édition des trois premiers quatuors de l’op. 18. Après avoir achevé l’op. 18 en 1800, six années s’écoulèrent avant qu’il ne revienne au quatuor en composant les trois “Razoumovsky”. Cet intervalle de temps, comme celui de treize ans (de 1811 à 1824) qui sépare les quatuors de la période adulte de celle de maturité (op. 95 en fa mineur), a vu un grand mûrissement stylistique. Chaque série de quatuors est l’aboutissement de chacune de ses périodes créatives (jeunesse, adulte et maturité). Dès l’op. 18, Beethoven est un géant égal à son image, empruntant certes des notions stylistiques et techniques à Haydn et Mozart, mais les exprimant dans un langage éminemment personnel. Dans ces mêmes compositions, il y a également des liens au niveau des motifs et des innovations de structure qui mènent inexorablement aux merveilles contenues dans ces derniers quatuors composés un quart de siècle plus tard. Il va sans dire que par leur puissance créative, les quatuors à cordes de Beethoven ont influencé l’histoire de la musique durant plus d’un siècle. Notons, par exemple, les citations presque directes

de son op. 132 dans le quatuor op. 13 en la mineur de Mendelssohn et l’esprit de son op. 127 dans le quatuor pour piano et cordes op. 47 de Schumann et celui de la Grosse Fuge et le Finale du même op. 127 dans les quatuors de Bartok. Non seulement Beethoven a-t-il imposé des sons, des valeurs et une esthétique tous nouveaux, mais il a également imposé de nouvelles normes techniques. Il se souciait peu du statut quo, bouleversant la tradition en même temps qu’il s’en servait. A l’incompréhension d’un critique exprimée au sujet de ses quatuors “Razoumovsky”, il rétorqua que ses quatuors n’étaient pas pour lui, mais “pour une période ultérieure”. Au malheureux violoniste Schuppanzigh, exaspéré par la haute technicité d’un passage, Beethoven déclara violemment ne pas se préoccuper de l’incapacité du maudit violoniste lorsqu’emporté par l’esprit de création. Pourtant, malgré une tendance colérique, il lui arrivait d’accepter des suggestions. Lorsque son éditeur lui dit que la Grosse Fuge était trop ardue et ésthétiquement mal placée pour clore le quatuor op. 130, Beethoven se surpassa en composant un autre finale, bien plus approprié. La colère et l’intensité brutes côtoient chez lui un lyrisme et un calme, sans parler d’une humilité désemparante, par exemple dans l’”Hymne de Grâce” de l’op. 132, le “Lento assai” de l’op. 135, la “Cavatina” de l’op. 130 ou bien le merveilleux mouvement lent de l’op. 18 no. 1; ces coups de génie ont notamment attribué aux quatuors à cordes de Beethoven la réputation de summum de la musique occidentale de tous les temps.

AVAILABLE ON DELOS The Complete Quartets Volume I

String Quartet in F Major, Opus 18, No. 1 String Quartet in E-Flat Major, Opus 127

The Complete Quartets Volume V

String Quartet in C Major, Opus 59, No. 3 (“Razumovsky”) String Quartet in E-Flat Major, Opus 74, (“Harfen”)

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The Complete Quartets Volume II

The Complete Quartets Volume VI

String Quartet in G Major, Opus 18, No. 2 String Quartet in B-Flat Major, Opus 130 DE 3032 (DDD)

The Complete Quartets Volume III

String Quartet in A Major, Opus 18, No. 5 String Quartet in F Major, Opus 59, No. 1 (“Razumovsky”) DE 3033 (DDD)

The Complete Quartets Volume IV

String Quartet in E Minor, Opus 59, No. 2 (“Razumovsky”) String Quartet in F Minor, Opus 95 (“Serioso”) DE 3034 (DDD)

String Quartet in D Major, Opus 18, No. 3 String Quartet in C-Sharp Minor, Op. 131 DE 3036 (DDD)

The Complete Quartets Volume VII String Quartet in C Minor, Opus 18, No. 4 String Quartet in A Minor, Opus 132 DE 3037 (DDD)

The Complete Quartets Volume VIII

String Quartet in B-Flat Major, Opus 18, No. 6 Große Fuge, Op. 133 String Quartet in F Major, Opus 135 DE 3038 (DDD)

The Beethoven String Quartets (Complete) The Orford String Quartet Master index booklet included 8 CD Box Set • specially priced DE 3039 (DDD)

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