Last night's playing of Haydn's Opus 71 Quartets (numbers two and three) was remarkably cleansing. The title phrase of this post was uttered by one of the violinsts (I was the other violinist) towards the end of the evening. We all smiled, and played on.
I had the comforting notion last night that these quartets have exercised their cleansing properties over generations and generations of musicians living in every corner of this round world. I think of the trials and tribulations associated with the changes in government we have to contend with these days, and that have proven to be a great drain on my psyche. But how many string players before me who have had to live their lives during the darkest days (months, years, decades) of history have found the same kind of respite from despair that I (and we) find in Haydn?
There are, of course, other areas of respite, but the Haydn seems to work its magic after the actual playing is over.
I have written a lot about Haydn in these "pages." You can read more, if you like, about my special relationship with him here.
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