Composed in 1788 for the wheeler-dealer virtuoso violinist Johann Tost, the three Op. 54 works contain more florid and flamboyant writing for the leader than any previous Haydn quartets. But there is never any question of meretricious showmanship; and in the finest work of the set, No. 2 in C, virtuosity is a key element in music of astonishing boldness and dramatic force. As anyone collecting the Hyperion Haydn series might expect, the Salomon give a lucid, observant performance, with crisp, clean tone and spirited rhythms. Ensemble and intonation are well-nigh perfect throughout. I liked the spacious tempo, shapely, attentive phrasing and obvious relishing of the music's sheer brilliance in the powerful, harmonically far-reaching opening Vivace – though other performances, including that by the Lindsay have brought more passion and urgency to this music, especially in the development. In the Adagio finale, the cool, chaste eloquence of Simon Standage and Jennifer Ward-Clarke (vibrato subtly and expressively used) and the vital character of the inner voices' accompaniment are at least as moving as the more romantically laden readings one usually hears. But I did feel Standage could have brought a shade more dynamic variety and agogic freedom to his rhapsodic extemporizations in the smouldering, gipsy-inspired C minor second movement.
The other two quartets, with their more familiar vein of sociable wit, are less radical in form and expression than the C major but hardly less inventive. Again, the faster movements are rhythmically alive and keenly characterized, with the Salomon allowing themselves plenty of space to make their musical points – though occasionally, as towards the end of the first movement development of the E major (from 3'40''), they can seem unduly restrained in their build towards a climax. As in the C major, Standage negotiates his frequent stratospheric flights with precision and panache. The first and last movements of the G major are specially delightful, and gain more than most from the lighter, more flexible period bows – in the opening Allegro's quick-fire raillery between first and second violins, for instance, or the chattering accompanying figuration of the final Presto. The second-movement Allegretto, often taken too slowly, here has an apt lightness and delicacy, though there is a want of mystery – and true pianissimo playing – in the strange, distant modulations from 1'40'' (compare the Lindsay here). But the attractions of the Salomon's playing far outweigh these provisos, and are, as usual enhanced by touches of stylish, witty ornamentation from Standage and the observance of all repeats in sonata movements – to particularly dramatic effect in the opening Allegro of No. 1, where the emphatic concluding G major is juxtaposed with the development's abrupt plunge into G minor. As with previous issues in this series, Hyperion's recorded sound is clear, immediate and well balanced.
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