What will I remember about this concert of the Kelemen Quartet’s a few years from now?
The fact that it was the first time I watched a lady in a sari play the cello ?
Maybe not. The music was so beautiful that I forgot within a few moments that people are usually so conscious of the way they sit in a sari.
The fact that right in the middle of a compelling Bartòk piece, the trumpet of a wedding procession outside confused us all?
Somehow, I think I will remember that. Even though I don’t want to.
The fact that they were all so expressive that it felt as if they were dancing with their instruments?
I hope so.
Mozart, Bartòk, Schubert – each was magnificent. I had Eine Kleine Nachtmusik in my head all evening. Not because it was my favourite, but because it was the most familiar, and Bartòk was just so elusive.
I can see their faces in my head – now so cross with the music they see, now so filled with longing, and now smiling and perhaps chuckling within at the ways in which music can surprise and delight.
The Kelemen Quartet – I hope they come again.