Piano Quartets by Castillon, Saint-Saëns, Chausson, Lekeu – A Wild Ride Through Romantic Europe
Alright, buckle up. This isn’t your grandma’s classical album review (unless she was into some seriously moody Romantic vibes). Piano Quartets by Quatuor Kandinsky is a 2005 release that slaps harder than you’d expect from something labeled "Classical." Virgin Classics dropped this gem, and holy hell, it’s got teeth.
First off, let’s talk about the lineup—Philippe Aïche on violin, Nicolas Bône shredding viola duties, Nadine Pierre holding down cello like a boss, and Claire Désert absolutely owning that piano. These guys don’t mess around. They bring heat to every track, but two in particular stuck with me: “III. Poco Allegro Più Tosto Moderato” and “I. Allegretto.”
The third movement of whatever quartet “Poco Allegro Più Tosto Moderato” belongs to (yeah, I lost count) hits different. It starts off all chill, like someone sipping coffee while staring out at a rainy Paris street. But then BOOM—it flips into this restless energy that feels like trying to outrun your own thoughts. The interplay between the strings and piano? Insane. Claire Désert doesn’t just play; she attacks those keys like they owe her money. And Nadine Pierre’s cello? Dude, it groans like a ghost haunting an abandoned castle. You can’t unhear it once it gets under your skin.
Then there’s “I. Allegretto,” which kicks off the Piano Quartet in G Minor Op.7. If you’re looking for drama, here it is. This thing opens with such delicate tension, it’s like watching a tightrope walker teetering above a pit of spikes. The pacing is nuts—slow enough to make you lean forward, fast enough to keep your heart racing. Philippe Aïche’s violin work here deserves special mention because he doesn’t just play notes; he tells stories. By the time the ensemble locks into full swing, you’re either sweating or dead inside. Probably both.
Now, shoutout to Bernard Charon and Jean-Martial Golaz, the engineers who made sure every squeak, scrape, and hammer of these instruments punches through the mix. Daniel Zalay as producer also clearly knew what he was doing when he let these musicians breathe fire onto the record. Even the liner notes by Adélaïde de Place are worth reading if you’re into nerdy backstory stuff. Plus, props to Eugène Boudin for the cover art—it’s classy as hell without being pretentious.
But here’s the kicker: listening to this album feels like stepping into another era where emotions weren’t filtered through Instagram captions. There’s no hiding behind autotune or overproduction here. Just raw talent slamming against each other like waves during a storm.
So yeah, go listen to Piano Quartets. Maybe it’ll remind you how messy and beautiful music can be when people actually give a damn. Or maybe it’ll just confuse the crap out of you. Either way, it’s better than scrolling TikTok for hours. Who knew Europeans could still crush it after all these centuries?
