Mozart's 23 String Quartets have a somewhat unusual history, one more akin to something we would perhaps associate more with Schumann than with Mozart: they were written in periods and, for the most part, in collections. This is not to say that Mozart never wrote chunks of pieces at one time in other genres, but it is conspicuous in the case of the quartets. The first thirteen quartets (except for the very first one) were all written between 1772-73, and comprise the 6 "Milanese Quartets" and the 6 "Viennese Quartets." A decade (that is, nearly a third of Mozart's life) goes by before he returns to the medium; he is obviously much more mature, musically and otherwise, and he takes longer to write. He works on the 6 Quartets dedicated to Haydn for nearly 3 years, between 1782-1785, and follows them with the lone "Hoffmeister" Quartet in 1786. Finally, he writes three last great masterpieces, the so-called "Prussian Quartets" from 1789-90.

The medium, like for so many composers, seems to offer a virtual laboratory setting for Mozart to work on complex musical structures. After all, the timbral and registral possibilities are vast, and yet it is an intimate setting, one which doesn't require the resources of, say, a symphonic work. A good number of the works, while always displaying the inimitable Mozart charm, are very dense chromatically. The 19th Quartet—the so-called "Dissonant" Quartet—is famously so, especially in the opening. But this month's clip, the opening of the second movement from the fantastic 16th Quartet, also from those dedicated to Haydn, gives the 19th a darn good run for its money. It is simply gorgeous.

I really love this set of recordings by the Quatuor TALICH. The performances themselves are quite good, on the whole, but the thing that really sticks out on the recordings is the engineering, of all things. They recorded in a space that, at times, sounds almost cavernous, but the miking is extremely close and there is terrific panning on each. The result has both positives and negatives. On the down side, the cellist never seemed to learn how to stop his strings from l.v.-ing, so the rhythms sometimes get wild with all of the reverb. And the first violinist is occasionally a bit noisy setting his bow, which is quite obvious with such close miking. But the positives are quite interesting. Most notably, there is a real mix of parts—that is, it sounds like a cohesive group—and yet, because of the careful panning, one can very distinctly make out every note of every voice. Nothing gets buried or lost in the shuffle, even in the busiest of passages. It is quite an extraordinary achievement, and, in my opinion, more than makes up for the shortcomings mentioned above.