From a current review of the Schubert string quartet in G major:
I love quartets. Four people: two violins (Alex Redington and Jonathan Stone), a viola (Hélène Clément), and a cello (John Myerscough), just playing their fucking guts out. Thousands of combined hours of practice, lessons, sheet music, and sheer fucking agony put into a single hour. The amount of pressure that’s put on these players to perform and practise all in the goal of “perfection”. Then, some asshole critic could listen to it once while taking a shit and say, “Well, the viola seems a bit anachronistically insouciant for my taste.” Huh? What the fuck are you talking about you shitting critic I just made up? The quartet world is a strange world.
Some say Schubert couldn’t hold a candle to Beethoven. Well, Schubert was literally a torchbearer at Beethoven’s funeral, so fuck that noise. Schubert is the bomb. If Beethoven thought this, so can you….
Read on here.
This review has given the Doric String Quartet greater uplift than anything in Gramophone.
Now, why would an absolute genius of a composer, known for his love of dirty fucking sluts, suddenly stop writing a quartet halfway? I feel like the answer is simple but nobody wants to say it. But I will. I think D703 is halfway finished because ….
Go on, you know you want to.