The City of London festival continues to draw audiences to venues they might never otherwise set foot in. It is a policy that can lead to fascinating discoveries; in purely musical terms it can also be a mixed blessing. We were in Goldsmith's Hall, all stained glass, glitzy chandeliers, heavy marble and shiny display cases stocked with examples of the craftsman's art: an atmospheric and strangely cosy setting. But a drier, quieter acoustic would have better served the two romantic works on the programme. There seemed little contrast between loud and soft, leaving the players struggling to make enough impact in the climaxes.
Martin Butler's contemplative new Piano Quartet was at less of a disadvantage. Butler's most high-profile commission was his chamber opera, A Better Place, staged by English National Opera two years ago; this single-movement quartet, for the conventional line-up of violin, viola, cello and piano, is his second piece for the Schubert Ensemble. Nocturnal in mood, it begins with distant, lilting chimes on the piano, making way for an offhand theme in which the viola muses on the open-string and stopped versions of a single note. The piano maintains an almost trancelike harmonic stasis. Later there's a rough-edged melody for all the strings in unison, pounded out so insistently it seems to be wanting words. But we're never far from tonal home, and the whole thing feels too safe. Still, the piece has no delusions of grandeur - except perhaps in the genre-evoking name - and, within its parameters, it works well enough.
Butler's piece was framed by two far more substantial piano quartets. Brahms's Third, in C minor, was exuberant and emotionally charged, and there was no doubting the players' involvement: I'm not sure I've seen a group look as close to tears as this one did during the sumptuous slow movement. But they showed their hand too soon; the return of the opening melody would have been more affecting for a bit of reticence earlier on.
The opening of the corresponding movement in Schumann's E flat Quartet was more subtle; but still in this work the players seemed not to have enough left at the most expansive moments.
The grandiose encore, Korngold's Lied, went some way towards redressing the balance. Here the players could have worn their hearts on their sleeves, but their reading was the more persuasive for a measure of thoughtfulness.
