Brahms’s two string quintets fall somewhere between his earlier quartets and sextets in that their contrapuntal workings are better oiled than in the quartets and their emotional thrust more far-reaching than in the sextets. Both works abound in energy and mystery, the second movement of the First especially: one thinks in particular of its closing moments which, on this particular recording, are tapered to a ghostly whisper. Here, as elsewhere, the Raphael Ensemble prove themselves acutely sensitive to modulation, colour and textual shifts. This is cosy, wrap-around Brahms: generous (both first movement repeats are played), leisurely, luminous and loving, but without much in the way of fibre or muscle. I am thinking in particular of the “vehement dotted rhythms” of the first movement of the First Quintet (I quote Francis Pott’s lengthy and perceptive notes) which seem to me rather soft-grained.
The opening of the Second Quintet is one of Brahms’s most exultant inspirations, but the emphasis here seems more on texture and balance than on the all-important con brio. I can recall a wonderful old Philips record, where Isaac Stern, Paul Tortelier and colleagues (7/58, nla – recorded in a church at dead of night, as I remember) lifted us to the skies, but in this performance the statement is relatively low-key. Other passages, such as the frenetic octave doubling in the First Quintet’s finale and the Second Quintet’s lilting Un poco allegretto, come off very well. The sound, too, is beautifully balanced.
As to rivals, the Berlin Philharmonic Octet offer sterling performances (though they’re not as colour-sensitive as the Raphael), while the augmented Amadeus Quartet (part of a three-disc set) are sweetly effulgent. If, however, you are in search of a digital coupling, this is your only current option: it certainly tells part of the story, but tends to smooth over too many corners.'