The Coull Quartet's selection is an interesting one, comprising Mendelssohn's first essay in the string quartet genre (in E flat), the E minor of 1837 (revised in 1839) and the F minor of 1847. That the first is a work of his childhood need not, of course, with Mendelssohn imply any lack of mastery. However, this is more of an actual essay than some: Mendelssohn is literally trying out techniques, styles, responding to influences. These include Haydn and Beethoven, naturally and wisely enough, with his own fugal disciplines matched to what Beethoven could do with quartet fugues. The Coull play this agreeably and clearly, without claiming too much for it, as do the Melos (DG).
The E minor is a troubled work, more so, I think, than the Coulls suggest. The opening, a broad arpeggio melody kin to that opening the Octet, and indeed sounded over a similar syncopated accompaniment, is part of a nervier, less confident world, and the music quickly takes on some restless counterpoint and later some more disturbed harmony and figuration. The Coulls prefer to contain this within a more level exterior, which is of course a valid approach so long as it responds to the agitation; but the quaver counterpoint to the violin melody leading up to fig. A (that is, at about 0'42'') is not really clear enough to make this point. The Melos respond to this with stronger melodic emphases at the start which make the quaver counterpoint seem a more natural part of what is being said. This sets the manner for both quartets' performances. The Melos are edgier, more challenging in the scherzo, where the Coulls' spectral manner loses something of the tension; both groups play the Andante pleasantly before the final Presto agitato, which induces a very powerful performance from the Melos.
The F minor Quartet was Mendelssohn's last, written after the sudden death of his beloved sister Fanny and six months before his own death. It is one of his most extraordinary works, and one that underlines again how much Mendelssohn was still expanding his range in his latter years. It is not a comfortable work, and grows less so the more one studies it, not least since its technique of brief motives and abrupt juxtapositions is so original. The Coulls seem again more concerned to absorb these characteristics; the Melos are unsparing, and their performance has a trenchancy, even a bitterness, that grows inexorably out of Mendelssohn's searching reconsideration of his techniques.
The Melos Quartet versions come on a three-disc set of all seven quartets, originally recorded in 1982 and reissued at mid-price in 1987; it is thus more of a investment than the Coulls' record. But it is an investment that will yield rich dividends. I do not believe that any admirer of Mendelssohn, indeed any music-lover, could fail to respond to these fine, compelling works in such fine, compelling performances.'