Following their marvellous debut recording, of late Haydn quartets (2/90), the Mosaiques Quartet now give us the first instalment in a three-disc survey of Mozart's six ''Haydn'' Quartets. And high expectations are amply fulfilled. This is searching, richly imagined playing, with a wider range of colour and dynamics than I've heard from any other period-instrument quartet. The first movement of the A major, the most absorbed, elusive and densely argued of Mozart's quartets (and, incidentally, Beethoven's favourite), is done with grace and a subtle rhythmic fluidity (listen to the shaping and timing of the second theme, 0'40''ff). But the Mosaiques' reading has an underlying urgency: fortes are robustly physical, climaxes powerfully clinched, the development's counterpoint and cross-rhythms sharply etched. Their minuet is taut, intent and disquieting, acutely responsive to each shade of meaning in Mozart's pervasive seven-note figure. And they bring a real cumulative intensity to the Andante variations, the spare, remote polyphony of the fifth variation exquisitely drawn, the cello's steady, faintly ominous drumbeat in the sixth building to a disturbing climax.
The Mosaiques are equally compelling in the generally more worldly, sociable atmosphere of the C major. The outer movements have a fine sweep and an athletic, unaggressive brilliance, with a marvellous clarity and detail of articulation from Erich Hobarth in rapid semiquaver passages. The crescendo of tension in the development of the opening Allegro is powerfully sustained, culminating in biting, truculent exchanges between first violin and cello (from 7'04''); and, at the other end of the spectrum, the players point the surprise move to a distant E flat in the finale (1'10'') with subtle timing and a new, veiled quality of tone. In the Andante the Mosaiques' tenderness and breadth of line, their care for the fine details of Mozart's part-writing and the intensity and variety of shading in their soft-playing (piano and pianissimo always meticulously differentiated) make for an exceptional performance, at least as moving as any of the more overtly expressive, vibrato-laden readings on modern instruments.
The rival period-instrument performances by the Salomon Quartet on Hyperion have, rightly, attracted widespread praise. They, too, are readings of flair and understanding; and occasionally I prefer them to the Mosaiques, as in the dissonant introduction to K465, which they play more slowly and with a deeper sense of mystery. But overall my vote goes to the Mosaiques, for their slight technical edge, their more daring spectrum of dynamics and tone-colour and their characterization, which is often that much more subtle and detailed than the Salomon. I also marginally prefer the recording quality accorded the Mosaiques, less resonant and even clearer in detail, and giving a vivid immediacy to each of the instruments, not least to Christophe Coin's rich, gutty cello.'