**** (4 stars)
“A Brilliant Play!”
Being a member of a string quartet is like being a member of a small family linked, not by blood, but by the music you play with the other three members of the quartet. Two violins, a viola, and a ‘cello join together to play intimate music. It’s rather like having an ongoing conversation that ranges through a wide range of moods, emotions, tone colours and musical styles. The repertoire is virtually limitless and every piece will contain a fresh challenge.
Each instrument, and player, has a different character. Often the first violin is the flashy, show-off one; the second violin sometimes gets to shine, sometimes quite literally has to play second fiddle; the viola quite often murmurs away quietly to itself somewhere in the middle of the mix, but when a composer themself played viola, the instrument comes out of the shadows and into the spotlight; the ‘cello sings away supporting the other three but also, with its gorgeous near-human singing tone in the higher register takes centre stage, either by itself or duetting with the first violin.
Phrases of music are tossed from one player to another. Sometimes two or more sing in parallel, sometimes one stands out and the others recede. Then, in an instant all that changes again – requiring constant concentration and wordless communication between the four players.
Imagine, then, what’s it’s like for a quartet who have played together for decades to lose one of their members. This is what has happened to our quartet, and the remaining three men have gathered at the start of a rehearsal to play quiet homage to Leonard. There’s a white rose on his chair and the three men have just begun to play a solemn lament when in bursts someone who can only be their agent. He’s small, snappily dressed, and instantly unlikeable. His insensitivity to the emotion of the moment is appalling – and probably habitual: he has come to introduce Kiki to the trio as their ‘missing piece’ – their new first violinist. He brushes aside their protests that they don’t want to carry on playing and pressures them into agreeing to give her a two-month trial: Kiki, meanwhile, has no idea that the group had decided to disband before she showed up.
It’s fascinating slowly to discover the personalities of the four musicians, their histories, and their motivations both for playing in a quartet which now mostly plays at social events – concerts simply don’t provide enough to live on. We see the challenges Kiki finds in trying to get through the walls of resistance each of the trio have built around themselves, and the challenges the three men face in trying [or not trying] to change their thoughts and attitudes, towards each other, their manager, and Kiki herself. Their manager/ agent has his own agenda – and although it might seem that he’s doing alright at the quartet’s expense, it becomes clear that his life isn’t a bowl of roses either. What’s most interesting is the emergence of a sixth character – Leonard, their founder, the man who brought the other three men into the quartet and was the glue that kept the four playing together.
At the end of the two-month trial, the fortunes of the quartet have improved: but they had agreed to vote on whether to disband or continue, so they do. What will their decision be?
Four is a thoughtful and moving exploration of relationships in a time of change and of the physical, emotional, and financial challenges that will face anyone who wants to make a living from something which is both their passion and their source of torment. Along the way, there’s some fabulous music, some great violin playing, and virtuoso performances from five extremely talented actors.
It’s a brilliant play, and the audience loved it.
Four, Gilded Balloon Teviot, Wine Bar, Venue 14 for info go to: Four | Theatre | Edinburgh Festival Fringe (edfringe.com)
ScotsGay Arts 