The Manfred Quartet launch the great single-movement span of Schoenberg's Op. 7 with an explosive bravado worthy of their Byronic mentor, the spread sforzando of the initial cello chord shaking the foundations. Exciting though it is, it creates an immediate problem: how is the dynamic and dramatic shape of this complex and extended design to be sustained? Other ensembles appreciate that Schoenberg regards the recurrence of ideas as a structural force of greater significance than their first appearance. Pacing of the structure, and shading of the emotions, are vital if the work is not to seem like an extravagant, over-excited essay in self-indulgence, and the Manfred Quartet probably won't still the doubts of sceptics on that score. It is entirely predictable that what should be the supremely powerful moment of return to the opening tonality and theme at the work's mid-point should go for too little here.
There are compensations, even so. The players are technically very assured, and deserve considerable credit for the way they manage the difficult build-up to the quartet's final crisis before its sublime coda. If the recording had offered a less unremittingly close focus, and toned down (or not exaggerated) dynamic levels, I would be happier to return to this account from time to time. As it is, I will echo DJF's comment that, of current CD versions, the LaSalle Quartet (part of a four-disc set) is ''marginally preferable'' to the Schoenberg Quartet, and add that both are marginally preferable to the Manfred. One final point: a single-disc version of Op. 7 needs to be especially impressive to justify a full-price outlay, and Pierre Verany might have enhanced the attractions of this CD by including more music—for example, Schoenberg's early D major Quartet.'