The real criterion of the quality of any recording is not so much how much one admires it but rather how often one returns to it. The sets of Beethoven's late string quartets to which I have returned over the years are the mono Busch (now reissued on HMV), the Philips mono set of the Budapest (nla), the mono Hollywood (HMV), the Vegh (Valois) and the Quartetto Italiano on Philips—and among those listed above, the Lindsay (ASV). The set, oddly enough, which I admire but rarely play, is the Alban Berg on HMV, the only rival account on CD. With the present issue, the Melos Quartet of Stuttgart complete their Beethoven cycle and like the Alban Berg set, this is available on all three music-carriers. First, a word about layout: in the LP format, Opp. 127 and 135 are coupled together on the first record, Op. 130 and the Grosse Fuge on the second, while the remaining two records are occupied by Opp. 131 and 132. On CD, Opp. 127 and 131 are coupled together on the first disc, Opp. 132 and 135 on the last, leaving Op. 130 and the Grosse Fuge together on the second. The cassette format scores over the LP in that only one quartet, Op. 130, involves a turnover between movements. The smaller-size booklet of the CD has to serve muster in the LP box, which I regret but, given the economics of present-day record-making, understand.
In reviewing the LP Melos set of Op. 18 on DG (410 971-1GH3, 7/84; CD 410 971-2GH3, 8/86), I registered ''admiration rather than unqualified pleasure''. The late quartets make greater spiritual demands than any other music in the repertoire and the task of scaling these awesome peaks is daunting indeed. To paraphrase Schnabel on the sonatas, this is music that by its very nature can never by played well enough, and its truths are inexhaustible. The present set strikes me as a good deal more satisfying than either Op. 18 or the Rasumovsky Quartets (DG 415 342-1GH3; CD 415 342-2GH3, 11/85). Looking back I see that DJF wrote of their Rasumovsky as seeming ''to gloss over much of the music's psychological motivation, and it is precisely the feeling that they have never been daunted, or even awed by these masterpieces, that makes their approach seem two-dimensional''. He also wrote that they were ''undaunted by the sheer scale of Beethoven's conception''. I sympathize with him and indeed have come to share this view of these middle-period quartets.
I paced out my listening over several days and heard some works on LP and others on CD. Op. 127 begins spaciously, and like most of the set avoids the excessively fast tempos that proved the downfall of Op. 18, so far as I was concerned. The slow movement has no want of innigkeit and is one of the best things in the whole set. Tempos throughout are sensibly chosen, though I occasionally felt the need for just a shade more breadth and space. I liked Op. 135, too—the Scherzo is particularly fine, but the Lindsay discover greater depths and tranquility in the slow movement. Wilhelm Melcher's sweet-toned vibrato is not always conducive to repose; and some might find the finale just a bit on the brisk side.
The first movement of Op. 130 struck me as less satisfying and to return to the Lindsay here is to enter another world: it is not so much a difference in tempos nor the fact that the sonority they produce is better-blended and that there is a greater variety of tone colour, but rather that they give each musical point time to register. The Melos have impressive technical address but theirs are essentially 'public' performances and there is (I was going to say 'an aggressive edge' but that would be putting it too strongly) a thrustful quality about the articulation for which I don't always care. Having said this, I must also say that there are many insights, too, and much to admire. As always, Hermann Voss, the violist produces a wonderfully glowing tone and eloquent phrasing; as for that matter so does the cellist, Peter Buck. Occasionally, as in the second movement of Op. 132, their playing is touched by routine but elsewhere—as in the Adagio of Op. 127 and the ensuing Scherzo, there is real musical distinction. There is not the sheer perfection and polish that mark the Alban Berg: in the Allegro of Op. 132 the primarius is by no means so flawless as his Alban Berg colleague, but he has great emotional intensity and a strong lyrical feeling for line. There is also a satisfying sense of strain in the Grosse Fuge.
The DG recording has great clarity and vividness with each of the four instruments well defined and present, and the sound is marvellously truthful. The CDs gain from being played at a low-level setting, for otherwise they can seem too bright and clinical by the side of the LPs. Personally I would have preferred a slightly more distant balance. The pauses between movements are mostly of acceptable duration but some are far too short (only three seconds between the second movement of Op. 132 and the Heiliger Dankgesang).
Summing up, these are for the most part good performances that will give pleasure and can hold their own with much of the competition now before the public. So far as the CD collector is concerned, the DG set scores over its rival in being accommodated on three rather than four discs, and until the Lindsay appear on CD, is a good recommendation. The LP and cassette collector has much more choice, and though I would recommend the Melos, it would not be in preference to the celebrated sets by the Vegh and Talich (Calliope) Quartets despite their bottom-heavy sound, the Gramophone Award-winning Lindsay set or the still highly-competitive set from the Quartetto Italiano.'