Denes Koromzay, joining here one of the most gifted of the younger Hungarian quartets, is the sometime violist of the old Hungarian Quartet. He now teaches at Colorado University, where the Takacs Quartet are currently quartet-in-residence. Traditional practice has it that the guest violist plays the second part in quintets: in this instance, however, he takes the first part in the C major Quintet, K515, and thus addresses himself in the slow movement to some of the most glorious viola writing in all Mozart's chamber music. Sadly, the performance of this movement is not up to the standard of the rest. The first violin, dueting with the first viola in lines which become increasingly concertante in manner, is splendid; but Koromzay gives the impression he is no longer able to relish the more soloistic passages, and he's not always perfectly in tune. The CD, making him sound rather distant, reinforces the feeling of imperfect focus, of things being not quite as they should be; I detect a slightly different balance on the LP, and I prefer it. In the G minor Quintet, on the other hand, the sound-picture seems to me perfect. Indeed, in this work the digital recording shows the fine quality Hungaroton can achieve these days—much improved in recent years. The production of the CD is credited to Denon in Japan.
The playing is generally so likeable that I find myself perhaps more inclined to voice a few reservations than I might have done with a less interesting achievement. Stronger contrasts of forte and piano would have been welcome, or at least some better dynamic levels at the quiet end of the range. You may agree that the opening movement of the G minor Quintet is a shade slow. The finale of the C major, on the other hand, seems to me too loud and busy at the start—nor is it immaculately articulate and polished thereafter. In both opening movements I do miss the exposition repeat, which is surely essential to pieces of these dimensions; and yet if these quintets are to be paired (and they give a little over 64 minutes of music here) there is no way the repeats can be taken. You must set these points against an abundance of fresh and fne playing. In the great 'muted' slow movement of the G minor Quintet the achivement seems to me exceptional, the atmosphere fully sustained, the colouring perfect at every turn; I can't remember hearing the movement better done by the Amadeus and Cecil Aronowitz in their heyday. (I must register the complaint, though, that the Hungarians clip the long silences in bars 10 and 47 by as much as a crotchet, a surprising blemish.) The rest of the quintet—the second, transitional Adagio and the finale—is on an equally accomplished level.
In the pairing of these works on Philips by an ensemble led by Arthur Grumiaux, the slow movement of the C major is placed before the Minuet. An argument can be pursued for adopting this order, but if you're accustomed to the more usual sequence of movements, with the slow movement third in the scheme, you may find it hard to accept.'