We’ve had a decade to look back on the music of the 20th century, but that does not mean that the music world has come up with a convenient term to describe that exciting but unruly epoch of music making. It was so easy with the two previous centuries: the 19th century was the Romantic era, and the 18th century divided itself equally between the High Baroque and the Classical eras. It was as though J.S. Bach had conveniently planned his demise in 1750 to divide his musical century at its precise mid-point.

The Darwinian model of the last century provided by academic music historians sounds like something out of the Torah’s Book of Numbers: extreme chromaticism begat atonality; atonality begat serialism and its reactionary offspring neo-classicism; neo-classicism begat P.D. Q. Bach (yikes!); serialism begat electronic and then computerized manipulation, which begat the bastard fraternal twins of minimalism and neo-Romanticism.

It is easy to see why this complex situation does not easily boil down to a one-word slogan. But what about the music that does not fit this unwieldy academic schema, the 20th-century composers who did not march to anybody’s drum?

SummerFest Music Director Cho-Liang Lin crafted a clever program of misfits for Satruday’s (August 8) concert, which he titled “20th Century Romantics.” In truth, the only composer on Lin’s list—Anton Weber, Samuel Barber, Leos Janacek, Paul Hindemith, and Max Bruch—who actually merits the “20th-century Romantic” label is the American Samuel Barber. Max Bruch certainly was a genuine 19th-century Romantic composer (born in 1838) who just happened to live well into the early 20th century, oblivious to everything that was happening around him.

I thought the most winning aspect of this concert was the opportunity to hear the Jasper String Quartet, a young ensemble currently in residence at Yale University. Jasper bathed Webern’s 1905 “Langsamer Satz” in a glowing, meticulously balanced sonority and found in the composer’s trademark repose a yearning intensity, which they projected with suave assurance. The leadership of first violinist J Freivogel proved commanding but never overbearing. This is a quartet to watch.

Barber’s lush wind quintet “Summer Music,” Op. 31, seldom fails to win the audience’s heart, and this taut performance was no exception. Notable were the wistful incantations of veteran oboist Alan Vogel, the sweet roulades of flutist Catherine Ransom Karoly, and the polished, precise horn calls of Richard Todd. What separates Barber from the Romantics of the previous century is his more complex harmonic palette and his overall concision. He covers an emotional landscape in a mere dozen minutes that, say, Dvorak will take 40 minutes to work out. Bless him a thousand times.

Any opportunity to hear a late Janacek work is to be coveted, and I cannot thank director Lin enough for including the Czech composer’s stunning “Concertino for Clarinet, Bassoon, Horn, Two Violins, Viola and Piano.” The 1925 Concertino has all of the excitement and brilliance of Janacek’s familiar orchestral gem, “Sinfionetta,” which he finished the following year, only concentrated in the clear, lean voices of a chamber ensemble.

The piano part drives the work, and Orli Shaham took it on with stentorian ferocity, especially in the tumultuous third movement.

Hornist Todd again proved his mettle in his extended and exposed duo with Shaham that is the work’s unusual opening movement. Clarinetist John Bruce Yeh’s chisled articulations from his instrument’s higest register animated the second movement, another duo with the piano.

The SummerFest players communicated well the composer’s wit and sophisticated idiom, a hybrid of neo-classicism and expressionism. Or maybe Janecek is simply sui generis. This was a performance to savor.

Bruch’s “Octet in B-flat,” a compendium of grand gestures that falls midway between Mendelssohn’s glib felicity and Brahms’ earnest counterpoint, gave first violinist Sheryl Staples ample opportunity to show off her fiery technique and consistently splendid timbre. Some of us recall her days as a promising SummerFest “Rising Star,” and it is gratifying to hear that promise so richly fulfilled, although she is still a young player by any standard. Cellist Fred Sherry, who has been too long absent from the SummerFest roster, provided numerous deft, lyrical solos, especially in the final movement.

The title of Hindemith’s 1925 snide parody “Overture on ‘The Flying Dutchman’ as performed by a Terrible Health Resort Band at 7:00 a.m. at the Village Fountain” tells you all you need to know about this snarky opus. It is not easy to be kind and satirical at the same time, and Hindemith was not even trying. The Jasper String Quartet was given the unenviable task of purposely playing out of tune, fumbling, and getting lost. They were game, and they have paid their dues with interest. Please, SummerFest planners, invite them back to play real music!

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