The Guarneri String Quartet
June 28, 2024
At the Marlboro Music Festival, sixty years ago almost to the day, four musicians—violinists John Dalley and me; violist Michael Tree; and cellist David Soyer—began rehearsing together with the hope of becoming a string quartet. We had made the decision to form the year before at Marlboro. Everything John, Michael, David and I had done musically up to that point—performing as soloists, in chamber music, and in teaching—seemed to have finally brought us together in our enormous love for the lean, rich, and irresistible draw of the great string quartet literature. Pianist Rudolf Serkin, Marlboro’s director, and Sasha Schneider, the Budapest String Quartet’s second violinist, came with a bottle of champagne to celebrate. Sasha handed out pieces of advice freely, such as, “Don’t let your partners mix in,” and “No comments or criticisms after a performance; save them for the next rehearsal.” And Mischa Schneider, the Budapest’s cellist, told me impishly, “There’s so much talk about how good you’re going to be. Take my advice: don’t play a note, so people won’t be disappointed.”
This was all fine and good, but at that moment we had no concerts, no manager, and not even a name for the quartet. Discussions on this last subject usually went nowhere. The “New Amsterdam String Quartet” as a possible name, for example, was roundly voted down.
“We don’t live in New Amsterdam,” someone said dourly. From there, things often deteriorated into joke names—things like the “No Name String Quartet,” or the “Four on the Floor String Quartet.” Hearing of our predicament, the Budapest’s violist, Boris Kroyt, came to the rescue. He had played in a Guarneri Quartet between the two World Wars, which disbanded as the Second War began. “I give the name to you as a present,” Boris said magnanimously.
For the next year, all of us went about fulfilling our existing commitments. John and David were members of the American String Quartet, Michael played in the Marlboro Trio, and I was assistant concertmaster of the Cleveland Orchestra. I made an appointment to see the orchestra’s conductor, George Szell, to tell him I would be leaving at the season’s end. He received the news badly. “What could you possibly do that would be better than playing in our great orchestra?” he challenged me almost angrily. “Four of us have formed a string quartet, Mr. Szell, We hope to make a go of it.” With that, Szell’s anger was replaced by a broad smile. “In that case, I congratulate you.” Szell knew and loved the string quartet repertoire. When the orchestra traveled on tour, he often sat with concertmaster Josef Gingold, who liked to play a game with him. Gingold would take out a pocket score of the Mozart string quartets and show him only one bar of the music. Szell invariably guessed correctly which quartet it came from.
And so, in the summer of 1964, the Guarneri Quartet rehearsed daily at Marlboro, and there gave its first performances, of the Mendelssohn Opus 13 and Hindemith Opus 22 string quartets. It was a highly emotional moment. which might turn out to be either the beginning of a hoped-for career playing some of the most significant and meaningful works in all of music, or a promising first appearance which, like that of so many other young quartets, ended in nothing. Decades later I listened to those performances that Marlboro had recorded. Four exuberant, young musicians, I thought, still rough around the edges as a quartet but already with something personal to say.
There are three basic factors, supposedly, for a successful career: talent, hard work, and luck. The four of us were certainly not allergic to work, considering the heady experiences we faced with the likes of Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, Mendelssohn, Schumann, Dvořák, Bartók and beyond. We continued to rehearse at Marlboro, then at the Casals Festival to which we had been invited, and into the fall at Dave’s Upper West Side New York City apartment.
As it turned out, our talent was soon to be recognized. On February 3, 1965, at the invitation of Sasha, our Guarneri Quartet made its New York City debut at the New School in lower Manhattan. By an enormous stroke of good luck, in the audience were Harry Beall, who would become our manager for the coming decades; Max Wilcox, a record producer who invited us to record for RCA; and a critic for the New York Times, who gave us an excellent review.
With all that good fortune, was a glorious future touring the world as a successful string quartet waiting for us? Not exactly. John, Michael, and I had been students and good friends at the Curtis Institute of Music, and had played together in all kinds of chamber music groups. That continued at Marlboro with David added to the mix. But the string quartet hothouse of constant togetherness, rehearsing, traveling, performing, and attending social gatherings afterwards can take a toll on relationships. Add to that the normal but never-ending disagreements in rehearsal about musical issues. It’s no wonder that promising quartets often don’t survive because of what is vaguely described as poor “chemistry.”
For starters, our style of rehearsing took on a life of its own without any of us willing it. The four of us behaved with one another almost as if we were brothers—that is, affectionate but often blunt. Occasional guest musicians often wondered whether we were getting along. If, say, I rushed a passage, if John was too soft, if Michael too loud, or if Dave lagged behind, there was no beating around the bush. Direct and unflinching criticism allowed us to move along quickly on our way to forming a convincing interpretation. And because of that directness, we could walk away from rehearsals without any lingering resentments.
Rehearsals were mostly enjoyable, and often started with jokes like this one of Michael’s: The wife says to her husband, “You are such a schmuck that if there was a schmuck competition, you’d come in second.” “Why is that?” he asks. “Because you’re such a schmuck.” Then, with laughter out of the way, the rehearsal would begin, but with a sense of playfulness often lingering. If one of us played in a bland manner, Dave would say, “That’s so vanilla.” My response was always the same: “But Dave, vanilla happens to be my favorite flavor.” Or if someone was criticized for playing a particular note out of tune, John, often the quietest in our group, would pop up with, “Every note a pearl, every pearl a fake.”
Something else crept into rehearsals without our really noticing it. We never complimented one another. I guess the idea behind it was that, of course, our playing should be technically spotless, musically cogent, and also soulful when needed. If, say, Michael had turned to me smiling and said, “Arnold, I just loved the way you played that phrase,” I would have suspected that I was about to be fired. That changed when Dave finally retired from the quartet after thirty-five years, and his former student Peter Wiley took his place. In rehearsal Peter would sometimes put down his cello and gush. “I love you guys, and John, I just loved how you played that last passage.” After thirty-five years of often very tough criticism, compliments like Peter’s were hard to process.
Our Guarneri Quartet’s career spanned forty-five years. We were often asked whether the quartet had a five-year plan. “No, it’s a one-year plan,” we responded. “If people hire us to perform next year, we’ll continue—if not, we’ll stop.” But there’s obviously more to our successful and long-lived career than that. For one, we followed the lead of our mentors, the Budapest String Quartet, who claimed to be the first democratic quartet. Although John would occasionally turn to me in jest and proclaim “Hail, Primarius,” we were a leaderless quartet, or, perhaps more accurately, a group consisting of four leaders and no followers. In input during rehearsals and output during concerts, each of our voices was considered equally important and equally valuable.
A professor at the Columbia University Business School came backstage after one of our many Metropolitan Museum concerts and asked me whether I’d speak to the students in his popular “How to Start Your Own Business” class. “But Professor, I’m a musician. I don’t know anything about starting a business,” I told him. “Yes you do,” he assured me. “You and your quartet colleagues undoubtedly know a great deal about partnership, which is most often what starting a business is all about. And what is the Guarneri String Quartet other than a noble enterprise? You four are a decades-long successful partnership.”
I thought about it for a while and finally accepted the P rofessor’s invitation. At the class, I nervously waited while the speaker before me educated the students on patent law. When my turn came, I was able to sum up our Guarneri experience with one word—respect. Respect for John, Michael, David, and later Peter’s great artistry as musicians. In all those rough-and-tumble rehearsals, we were partners in the “business” of fashioning a meaningful late Beethoven quartet, or a Debussy quartet, or a Bartók quartet.
I’ll be going back to Marlboro in a few days, as I always do each summer. I’m now one of the “seniors” who coach and guide gifted young musicians there. These young musicians have the talent. Now comes the hard but exhilarating work of exploring the monumental chamber music repertoire, but in a uniquely Marlboro manner, that is, with the uncommon gift of being able to study each work intensely but at a leisurely pace, and without the pressure to necessarily perform.
The Guarneri String Quartet were once those young musicians sixty years ago. We had the talent and we put in the hard work, but without the Marlboro Music Festival we would never have formed our quartet, and our lives would have been immeasurably poorer for it. Was that a divine stroke of luck, or something far more elusive and mysterious?
I have the rest of my life to think about it.
Photo credit: Dorothea von Haeften
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Comments
Dear Arnold, loved this poignant and heartfelt story. The American String Quartet is celebrating its 50th year , as am I. We about to play in Aspen next week marking our debut there in 1974, so your sentiments are particularly meaningful. Keep writing and teaching, with respect and love,Laurie
how I love this. I grew up hearing the Guarnieri Quartet. I had the good fortune to play for Michael, John and David at the Cleveland Seminar. Never to be forgotten.
I was a student at SUNY Binghamton when the Guarneri Quartet was in residence and presented a number of memorable and remarkable concerts which were the highlights my time there. Even at the beginning of your quartet’s life, the performances were as good as I had heard in my young life. Thanks for wonderful memories.
I’m happy to say that I saw and heard the Guarneri when you were in your prime.
I was a student at SUNY Binghamton when the Guarneri Quartet was in residence and performed a number of excellent and superb concerts. It was my first exposure to a great quartet even though the quartet was in its infancy. Thank you for the wonderful and cherished memories. Many years later, I attended a concert at Emory University in Atlanta which reiforced those memories.
Three of the most enjoyable musical experiences I have had in my life were with the Guarneri Quartet. One “Trout” Quintet at Alice Tully Hall, and two performances of the Dvorak Quintet (the last one at the Metropolitan Museum/Grace R. Rogers Auditorium).
The rehearsals of course were almost the most fun, because of the comments, jokes and banter among the quartet’s members. One of my favorites came from David Soyer, when at one rehearsal I politely asked David Soyer, “what bowing would you like at measure “X”?” and he with mock sarcasm answered,
“BOWINGS??!! I don’t DO bowings!” This was just wonderful, especially since most of my rehearsals normally were with the New York Philharmonic where bowings sometimes assumed monumental proportions with conductors and players trading ideas (which often bored and irritated the wind and brass players). David trusted me to “go with the flow” of a performance and if necessary, adjust a bowing in the moment.
(And his remark was probably a comment on the drudgery of an orchestral player forced to submit to the chains of an uncomfortable bowing suggested by a concertmaster or conductor which sometimes “doesn’t work” on a particular instrument.)
Thank you, dear Guarneri Quartet, for the musical joy you gave so many (including me).
Love, Orin
Was für eine herrliche Geschichte. ich werde gleich mal eine Platte mit dem Guarneri-Quartett hören. Ich bin richtig traurig, denn ich würde das Quartett am liebsten noch einmal sehen. Bitte Arnold, lass Marlboro mal aus und komm wieder nach Berlin. Dein Peter
beautiful, wonderful writing Congratulations
I was lucky to be in the audience on numerous occasions at Guarneri concerts. I am lucky to have my treasured recordings of the Guarneri Quartet and Arnold Steinhardt. More importantly are the many quartets and musicians, past, present, and future that consider themselves lucky to have been touched by Arnold Steinhardt and the Guarneri. Thank you!
I was lucky to be in the audience on numerous occasions at Guarneri concerts. I am lucky to have my treasured recordings of the Guarneri Quartet and Arnold Steinhardt. More importantly are the many quartets and musicians, past, present, and future that consider themselves lucky to have been touched by Arnold Steinhardt and the Guarneri. Thank you!
So beautiful! Thank you for this, Arnold! It remains a major highlight of my career to have performed the Brahms Quintet together with the legendary Guarneri Quartet back in the 1980s, both in Chicago and in Detroit. You, John, Michael, and Dave have always been so gracious and generous with your musicianship, wisdom, and collegiality. I’ll always be grateful for those unforgettable experiences.
There is no doubt about it that OUR lives would be immeasurably poorer had there been no Marlboro and no Guarneri Quartet, dearest Arnold. As I look back on my life, a life which has been nourished by music, all those wonderful concerts, those Beethoven cycles, those recordings, were unique and remain highlights of my musical experience. I am truly grateful for what Rubinstein would call those « moments of eternity » because we relive them for the rest of our lives. So thank you dear Arnold, John, Michael and David for becoming the Guarneri Quartet and for the great gift of your music making for so many years, and for those undiminished memories enriching our hearts and our souls.
Annabelle
There is no doubt about it that OUR lives would be immeasurably poorer had there been no Marlboro and no Guarneri Quartet, dearest Arnold. As I look back on my life, a life which has been nourished by music, all those wonderful concerts, those Beethoven cycles, those recordings, were unique and remain highlights of my musical experience. I am truly grateful for what Rubinstein would call those « moments of eternity » because we relive them for the rest of our lives. So thank you dear Arnold, John, Michael and David for becoming the Guarneri Quartet and for the great gift of your music making for so many years, and for those undiminished memories enriching our hearts and our souls.
The Guarneri Quartet was the premier chamber music voice for my generation. May you and your mentoring inspire many other enterprises for the next ones.
String quartets are the best prescription for happiness and longevity, period!
The Guarneri String Quartet remains for me the ultimate expression of the lofty entity known as the string quartet. I consider myself blessed beyond measure to have had my musical perspective and standard of performance knocked over and raised to new heights during each occasion I heard the group perform. Thank you for so faithfully maintaining that standard for all those years. My memories of the GSQ reside among my collection of “greatest life experiences.”
fine fine writing arnold, as usual. sandy
I was around when the quartet was beginning, and I remember you, Arnold, as the kindest friend anyone could have. What a treasure these stories are! Thank you, my friend.
Oh gosh, what a great appendix to your books! I will never forget your tales about blintzes and the eight-beat version of “I’m not kissing any body!” Anyhow, I have heard you many times, the first being at UC Riverside in 1969 or so. I went with a number of friends, and the gals in the group decided that you (Arnold) looked like a very sexy Italian race car driver! In 1972, I bought your (first) Late Beethoven LP’s, and the version of the Grosse Fuge on those records is still my favorite. Youthful, just like you and I both were at the time! The last time I heard you was on your “farewell” tour, at Sunset Center in Carmel. What great pleasure you have given to me and so many others during your careers! Bless you!!!
My mother was an adult cello student of John Dalley’s mother. For years, while growing up,Mrs. Dalley always made sure that we had tickets when the quartet came to Ann Arbor.
Love the Fifth-Avenue recreation of the Abbey Road album cover. (After all, you guys were The Beatles of string quartets; sorry, The Beatles were the Guarneri Quartet of rock groups.)
I had the privilege of being a flute major at SUNY Buffalo from 1969-72. My mother was Viennese, and I grew up with opera and great symphony music, her favorites. I had never actually heard chamber music until college. In those years the Guarneri played the complete Beethoven cycle under the Alice Slee bequest. Imagine this 19-year old, having never heard a string quartet before, experiencing the Guarneri play the entire Beethoven several years in a row. It was momentous for me, and changed me into a life-long string quartet lover.
Many thanks to the Guarneri String Quartet for this awakening, and to Mr. Steinhardt for his marvelous stories from the Key of Strawberry. I am eternally grateful!
You keep inspiring so many, in performance, in your book, and now these essays. No doubt those Marlboro attendees will profit from your wisdom, and who knows… perhaps bring forth a new and wonderful quartet partnership. A personal note, my daughter Jen studied with you, continues to enjoy her music career, and this year sends a clarinetist daughter to Kenyon, and a cellist son off to Amherst. Generations are in your debt, and wishing you many more years ahead, “to think about it”.
The Guarneri Quartet!!! What a great group of talented artists and impressive human beings. I was the Stage Manager at The Metropolitan Museum’s Grace Rainy Rogers Auditorium. The Guarneri, or as Peter Wiley referred to them, “The Boys,” were by far one of the few groups during my 29 year tenure, who I considered my friends. Hilde Limondjian, the impresario and genius programmer of the Met Museum’s concert series, had them on the series for over 30 years. I loved going into the green room, where they always rehearsed and enjoying the banter and jokes we shared. One of my favorite moments was just before they went out on stage to play Dvorak, (the dumb key as they liked to call it), David looked in the giant mirror by the stage door and admiringly would say, “You can’t improve on perfection.” I’d say that holds true for the Guarneri’s playing too. Thanks for the memories Arnold.
I own just one vinyl record, one that brings me great joy when I take it out once a year when no one else is at home. First, I read Dale McAdoo’s program notes, then close my eyes, and enjoy the entire experience. RCA Victor Red Seal LSC-2888, Mozart String Quartets in B-Flat and F. Thank you Arnold!
Thank God for the Guarneri String Quartet and your wonderful writing, Arnold.
I hope, like myself, many of your readers were able to enjoy much of the great music your great ensemble produced.
I believe my first Guarneri concert was in 1968, but I was certainly a regular at your NYC concerts by 1970, often at the Metropolitan Museum. There was always a buzz in the air as we anticipated the glorious sounds to come.
I remember a ritardando in the Ravel Quartet so perfectly played that time seemed to stop. Then a minor key Beethoven slow movement in which the pathos and weight were as if from another world. And then, backstage after the concert, the guys were…. Human!
Bravo, Arnold, I will never forget.
Paul Childs
Dear Mr. Steibhardt,
I attended one of your concerts in Philadelphia Penn’s Landing( Fall of 1990). You guys started with the Lark and the moment when u entered with ur solo I knew ” that’s my ideal violin sound”. I’m not in music but am a music lover. You always reminded me of Szigeti. Love ur playing! Cheets
Hi Arnold!
I have been trying to find your phone number for several days with no success. My online phone book has you living in Santa Fe NM. Can that be right?
Anyway, on a car trip a few days (Cleveland to Boston — don’t ask!)ago I suggested to my lady friend that she, who knows Mozart opera rather well, that we listen to the Mozart C major Quintet in your recorded version and she is now hooked on it. While I would have liked a better sound system (her I-phone with some portable speakers tacked on) I was taken utterly by the beauty and the deep feeling of the performance and have ever since been trying to contact you to say so. In a way it’s not surprising since we learned to do music from the same people at pretty much the same time (George Szell, Joe Gingold, Rudolph Serkin, Casals, the Budapest Quartet). For old times sake, maybe we could get together for some sonatas some time — I stopped performing on the violin(don’t even own one!) a few years ago and have been seriously working on the piano ever since; the last time I tried to play the C major Bach Sonata my fingers would simply not allow me to play the chords in the first movement. So I am reduced (hah!) to things like the Goldberg Variations and WTCII, with a little late Beethoven (Archduke Trio, anyone?) and some Brahms sonatas in the mix. Poor me! (How many 84-year-olds get to kvetch about THAT?)
Anyway, Mazel Tov on magnificent Mozart and Id’ love to hear from you.
Jerry (781-874-0861; jprfrog@aol.com)
Dear Arnold,
I have been attending Marlboro Music since 1979 and have been a trustee for many years. Indivisible by Four was terrific reading, and the quartet’s concerts were sublime—including the wrap-up on Amelia Island, which I also attended. I am sure Marlboro “juniors” benefit tremendously from your mentoring, and I delight in your music and strawberries. I wish you many years of good health.
Cheers,
Harvey Traison
Thoughtful and caring –
Typical of the very character of the author.
Abba
I’ve just finished reading your great book, Indivisible by Four, and am deeply impressed by how the quartet started and kept performing for such long years. I particularly enjoyed the last section, which made me purchase a used CD of your Death & Maiden recording. Also impressed me was the story of your performing Dvorak’s America at the White House, and I just listened to another used CD of your recording, which I purchased after reading your book. I just can’t say enough how much I’ve enjoyed your book, recordings, and online videos. (Sadly, I never had a chance to listen to your recital.) Let me also say that I cannot agree more with the order in which you recorded your Beethoven’s quartets, the middle, the late, and the early works. Yes, Op.18 requires something beyond interpretation, heart. And of course, I love Guarneri’s Beethoven quartets. Thanks again and I wish you the very best.
A SQ lover from Japan
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