Boccherini String Quartets Op. 32 – Quartetto Borciani

The Quartetto Borciani—named after Paolo Borciani, founding first violin of the Quartetto Italiano—brings us four quartets from Luigi Boccherini’s op. 32, written in 1780 when the composer was living in Madrid under royal patronage. These aren’t pieces that will shake your foundations or leave you staring at the ceiling at 3 a.m. But that’s rather the point, isn’t it?

Boccherini occupies a curious position in the chamber music pantheon. We know the Minuet. Perhaps the Cello Concerto in B-flat. Beyond that, he remains a figure more discussed than actually heard—which is a pity, because these quartets reveal a composer of genuine refinement working at the height of his craft.

The op. 32 set dates from the same year as Haydn’s op. 33, those revolutionary quartets Haydn himself advertised as written “in a new and special way.” Boccherini’s approach is different—more openly lyrical, less interested in motivic development, more concerned with sheer sonic beauty. The G Minor Quartet, op. 32, no. 5, opens with a theme of such elegant melancholy that you wonder why it isn’t better known. There’s real expressive weight here, even if Boccherini doesn’t pursue it with Haydnesque rigor.

What strikes me most about these performances is the Borciani’s understanding of style—not just period style, but Boccherini’s particular idiom. They recognize that this music breathes differently than Haydn. The first violin (Fulvio Luciani) doesn’t dominate; instead, the four voices converse with unusual equality. Listen to how Roberto Tarenzi’s viola emerges in the slow movement of the D Major Quartet, or how Claudia Ravetto’s cello—naturally enough, given Boccherini’s own instrument—repeatedly claims the melodic spotlight.

The "Andante" from the C Major Quartet, op. 32, no. 4, receives particularly sensitive treatment. The Borciani players shape phrases with a kind of vocal imagination, breathing where singers would breathe, swelling and diminishing with natural inflection rather than applied dynamics. Elena Ponzoni’s second violin contributes more than mere accompaniment—there’s genuine dialogue happening, a sense of four musicians actually listening to one another.

Technically, these are accomplished performances. Intonation remains secure even in Boccherini’s more adventurous harmonic moments. The ensemble plays with a warm, rounded tone that suits this music—no hard edges, no aggressive attacks. Some might find it all a bit too polite. Perhaps. But I’d argue that politeness, when executed at this level, becomes its own kind of artistry.

The recording, made in Ivrea’s Baroque Hall, places the quartet in a resonant but not overly reverberant acoustic. You can hear the instruments clearly without feeling they’re playing in your lap—a sensible compromise. The sound has warmth without woolliness.

Does this music plumb the depths that Mozart was exploring in his contemporary quartets dedicated to Haydn? No. Boccherini wasn’t trying to write those pieces. His quartets offer different pleasures—civilized, elegant, consistently engaging without making extraordinary demands on the listener. The G Minor Quartet comes closest to real profundity, with its brooding opening movement and genuinely touching "Largo", but even here Boccherini pulls back from the abyss.

The competition mentioned in the original notes—recordings from the Esterházy and Nomos quartets—I haven’t heard recently enough to make detailed comparisons. But the Borciani need fear no rivals on purely musical grounds. Their approach feels idiomatic, their artistry secure, their interpretive choices convincing.

Nearly eighty minutes of music for bargain price remains remarkable, even in our age of plenty. More remarkable still is that this repertoire exists on disc at all—those gloomy predictions about the CD’s limited reach into obscure repertoire proved wonderfully wrong. We’re the beneficiaries.

This won’t be everyone’s cup of tea. If you need music that challenges and disturbs, look elsewhere. But for listeners who appreciate eighteenth-century chamber music at its most refined—who understand that not every quartet need aspire to late Beethoven’s transcendence—these performances offer considerable rewards. The Borciani Quartet plays with affection and understanding. Sometimes that’s enough. Here, it’s more than enough.