Apart from the inevitable Amadeus quartet, it features the Allegri under Eli Goren, predecessor of Hugh Maguire. Here one can’t help noticing James Barton, left-handed fiddle-player—part of a small group that notably includes Charlie Chaplin:
And among hours of harmless fun on YouTube:
How can I resist reminding you that the divine Ronnie O’Sullivan is ambidextrous—though I’m not sure he stretches to Bach.
Of course, the life of a quartet (actually, any performing group that works together regularly—few are so constantly in each other’s pockets as Li Manshan‘s band) resembles that of a marriage, or (still more thornily) a ménage a quattre—that too is a topic for elsewhere (see also here).
But I digress. In the film, I love the quaint early vignettes, as if the swinging 60s never happened—the clipped tones of announcers, and musicians gamely clambering into their dinky little cars to play for expectant audiences keen to worship at the altar of High Culture after the tribulations of the war…*
And before long we will all look quaint. Closer to our times, there are vignettes from groups like the Borodin, Lindsay, Arditti, and Kronos quartets, as well as the Smith quartet playing Steve Reich’s extraordinary Different trains, and the Brodsky quartet’s work with Elvis Costello.
* But what of the thankyou letter to the Martin string quartet, I hear you ask?!