This is the definitive modern recording of Schubert's most visceral string quartet. The Takács Quartet balances terror and lyricism with an unforced intensity that makes the old warhorse sound like news. Essential for anyone who thinks they know this piece.
Schubert wrote this quartet in 1824, at twenty-seven, knowing he had less than five years left. He borrowed the theme from a song he’d written seven years earlier — “Der Tod und das Mädchen” — and stretched it across a second movement that feels like a slow walk toward the grave. But he bookended that ache with two movements of such ferocious energy that you almost forget where you’re headed.
The Takács Quartet had already recorded Death and the Maiden once before, in 1995. That version was faster, leaner, a bit of a sprint. This one, recorded in 2004 at St. George’s, Bristol, is heavier. The first movement opens with those three hammered chords, and the players — Edward Dusinberre and Károly Schranz on violins, Geraldine Walther on viola, András Fejér on cello — let them ring with a weight that feels tectonic. The pace is deliberate, not rushed. The terror is earned.
What sets this recording apart is how the quartet handles the lyricism. The second movement’s variations spiral from a childlike folk tune to something jagged and dissonant, and the Takács never overplay the drama. They let the intervals speak for themselves. When the cello introduces the dance of death in the finale, there’s a rhythmic snap that makes you understand why Schubert marked it “Presto.”
The engineering by Philip Hobbs (under the production supervision of Andrew Keener) captures the ensemble with a vivid, present sound that still breathes. You can hear the bow changes, the slight shifts in vibrato, the way Fejér’s cello digs into the lower register in the scherzo. It’s a recording that rewards a decent system without demanding one.
The Takács had carved their reputation on Bartók and the moderns before turning their attention to the Viennese classics. That background shows. There’s a rhythmic clarity and a refusal to sentimentalize that turns a well-worn piece into something that feels newly carved from stone. The final tarantella doesn’t so much escape death as dance with it, heels striking the floor, breath short, eyes wide.
🎵 Key Takeaways
- Second movement feels like a slow walk toward the grave.
- Three hammered chords open with tectonic weight in 2004 recording.
- Variations spiral from childlike folk tune to jagged dissonance.
- Cello's dance of death in finale has a rhythmic snap.
- Engineering captures bow changes and vibrato shifts vividly.
- Final tarantella dances with death rather than escaping it.
What is Schubert's 'Death and the Maiden' quartet about?
The quartet borrows its theme from Schubert's earlier song of the same name, where Death comforts a frightened maiden. The music doesn't tell a story so much as embody a confrontation with mortality — frantic in the outer movements, resigned in the variations of the second.
How many times did the Takács Quartet record Death and the Maiden?
Twice. Their first recording from 1995 (on Decca) was faster and more aggressive. The 2004 rerecording is more seasoned — slower, with greater dynamic range and a more tragic sense of phrasing.
What makes the Takács Quartet's interpretation different from others?
The Takács originally built their reputation on Bartók and modern repertoire, so they bring a rhythmic precision and structural clarity that many Viennese-oriented quartets lack. They don't wallow in the sadness; they let the notes themselves do the work.