Um Mitternacht ! Mahler 5 - Andris Nelsons Gewandhausorchester Leipzig

Andris Nelsons : Photo Jens Gerber 2017

Andris Nelsons conducted the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra (Gewandhausorchester Leipzig) in Mahler Symphony no 5 and Bernd Alois Zimmermann Nobody Knows de Trouble I've seen with Håkan Hardenberger, at the Royal Festival Hall in the first of two concerts marking the start of a five year assocaition between the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra and the South Bank.  The Gewandhausorchester are regular visitors to London (I first heard them with Kurt Masur) but wow, were they sounding good tonight. The dynamic between players and conductor was like electricity - nothing wasted, quick and agile. The tiniest flick of Nelson's fingers and the Leipzigers knew exactly what to do.  No messing about, no fluffed cues ! This is a virtuoso orchestra, yet so full of life and expression, and with Nelsons, there seems to be a real spark.  

Nelsons has of course conducted this symphony many times, but one of the many things I liked about this particular performance was the way he seemed to be building on the strengths of this orchestra and its unique heritage.  It made me reflect on how the Mendelssohn DNA in this orchestra creates the Leipzig sound - warm, dignified and extremely humane.  This is pertinent applied to Mahler because his music, far from being bombastic or hysterical, reveals itself best when approached with sensitivity.  Although this symphony requires a large orchestra, it operates like chamber music, where individuals pay attention to the others and every note, no matter how small, cointributes to the whole. In some ways, Mahler 5 works like a string orchestra writ large, brass and winds extending instrumental colour.  Trumpets lead, but the soul resides in the murmuring "heartbeats",  the lower-voiced strings which here seemed to pulsate like a living organism.   The celli were placed in the centre, violins and violas around them, basses behind, the winds mediating between the strings, brass and percussion.  This symphony connects to Kindertotenlieder, a song cycle with quasi-symphonic structure.  There are also connections to Um Mitternacht , another Rückert setting,  completed a fe3w months later.  "Um Mitternacht/Nahm ich in Acht/ Die Schläge meines Herzens."  Paying attention to something barely perceptible in the course of daytime bustle,  but heard most clearly in the stillness of night.  And note the final verse "Herr über Tod und Leben/Du hältst die Wacht/Um Mitternacht! "  Life is fragile, dependent on the beating of a small(ish) organ in the body.  It is also significant that the symphony was written not long after Mahler had had a near brush with death in 1901, when the symphony was in gestation.  All this is absolutely relevant to interpretation, and thus to performance.

What I liked about Nelsons and the Gewandhausorchester Leipzig's Mahler 5 was thus intimacy.  The symphony can be done as Big Blast Phil Spector Wall of Sound, which is of course exciting. But for me, anyway,  real excitement comes from understanding how the climaxes grow from the quiet moments where the focus is on tiny details, like the ping of the triangle, which on this occasion was every bit as powerful n its own way as the more obviously dramatic trumpet introduction, also beautifully played, echoed later by the other trumpets.  Collegiality matters in Mahler 5.  Like the human body, the music lives when its components work together.  And chamber music collegiality comes naturally to an orchestra like the Gewandhausorchester Liepzig.  At moments I felt I could hear the sound of individual players and instruments,  working together rather than absorbed into undifferentiated mass.  If a symphony should contain the world as Mahler said, this is what it might sound like. Much more hunman and personal !  In this increasingly polarized world, the last thing we need is Party Rally "excitement" in music. 

Like the beating of a heart, the Trauermarsch was neither hyper nor feeble, but steady and unostentatious.  A funeral march, but  disciplined, as one might hear in the kind of military garrison town such as Mahler grew up in. Not a flashy militarist procession !  Very deliberate, not long enoughtoi break the flow but just enough to catch the breath  - Um Mitternacht Hab' ich gedacht  hinaus in dunkle Schranken.  This emphasized the contrast with the Stürmisch bewegt section which followed, showing them as two connected parts of the same whole.  A lively Scherzo and then one of the most beautiful Adagiettos in a long time, so lovely that it was perhaps the highpoint of the evening. The harps sparkled, the strings shimmered : truly a hymn to love, though not  just in the sense of a Valentine for Alma as this section is sometimes marketed.   The love here is more transcendent : the love of life itself, a theme that flows through so much of Mahler's music like lifeblood, pumping through the heart.  The warmth and assurance that the Leipzigers do so well enriched this performance.  Yet again, consider the way Um Mitternacht concludes on a high, with a kind of mini-anthem.  Thus the Rondo Finale which pulls together the dfferent threads of the symphony, creating a sense of purposeful unity.  In short, the Gewandhausorchester Leipzig trademark style,  unfussy but profound.

Nelsons has conducted Bernd Alois Zimmernann's Nobody Knows de Trouble I've Seen paired with Mahler 5  with the Berliner Philharmoniker since it features a stunning, jazzy trumpet part (Håkan Hardberger, too) as does the symphony. But the glow of the Gewandhausorchester Leipzig is different from the shine of the Berliner Philharmoniker so this time, the combination didn't work as well.

Andris Nelsons Leipzig Gewandhausorchester Mahler 6 listening link

Andris Nelsons outside the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra hall

Andris Nelsons, new Kappellmeister of the Leipzig Gewandhausorchester, in Mahler Symphony no 6, available here on MDR Kultur.  A powerful performance , full of vitality and insight. This orchestra is one of the oldest in the world, and easily one of the best, with a highly individual sound. Also a highly individual ethos - this was Mendelssohn's orchestra. When the Nazis wanted his statue pulled down, the then Mayor, Carl Friedrich Goerdeler, defied the Nazis and paid the price. In 1989,Leipzig again stood for freedom, when the then Kapellmeister, Kurt Masur, led the orchestra in performances of Beethoven which helped topple the East German regime. You don't mess with Leipzig!  In the years after the fall of the DDR the orchestra, like so many institutions at the time, underwent a period of readjustment. When Riccardo Chailly took over in 2005, Leipzig was revitalized, eager to take off on a new era.  I remember their first keynote concert together (Mendelssohn)  and the sense of energy that was generated. 

This time round, only the evidence of an audio broadcast, but wow! a performance so invigorating and so electric that it could well signal even greater things to come.  With Thielemann in Dresden and Bayreuth and Nelsons in Leipzig and Lucerne, things are looking up.  I haven't got time to write the performance up in full, but suffice to say, this was an inspired approach, which captured the vitality in the piece, very much in line with what we know of Mahler the man and of the traverse of his symphonies as a whole. Sure it's "tragic", but without abundant life beforehand, would the loss thereof be so horrific?  Muscular, energetic playing, wonderfully together - tho' listen to the percussion thumping like a heartbeat.  Yet also the elusive, sensuous waltz, suggesting softer feelings and the haunted, ghost-like passages.  Altogether an intelligent performance, full of intelligent insight, and musicianship of the highest order.  The Leipzigers know what they want and do it perhaps better than anyone else.  With Nelsons, they're a dream team.  BTW, it's ridiculous to knock Nelsons for "doing too much". His schedule is no different to anyone else. Even in the past, conductors moved round, and some of the best weren't stuck to any one orchestra at all.   

Kurt Masur and Leipzig, his greatest achievement.

Kurt Masur has died, aged 88. Masur was much, much more than a conductor. He transformed his city, his nation and the world. Would Germany be united today without the movement that led to the fall of the Berlin Wall? Would the Iron Curtain still hold sway? The cataclysmic events of 1989 were only 26 years ago, but seem to have been forgotten, by too many.  To truly honoure Masur, we need to appreciate Masur the man, and what shaped him.

Masur was born in Brieg (Bryzg) in Lower Silesia, once part of Germany, now part of Poland.  That might mean nothing, but it's this background of war, ethnic cleansing and exile that affects people.  Christoph Eschenbach was traumatized, but he was only 5. Masur, who was 18,  could understand.  Masur's career was built on the rock-solid foundations of German Democratic Republic music-making. In the DDR, the traditions of German music remained resolutely untouched by what was happening elsewhere. The regime was repressive, but it also resisted capitalist pressure, maintaining a superb music education system, which supported the industry so it could do what it did best, without having to cave in to the commercial forces of a new era where recordings started a new mass market dictated by public taste.  What we think we know is shaped by market forces.  Harnoncourt's response was to go back to the roots (read more here). Masur and the East German tradition were "at" the roots.. Masur conducted the Dresden Philharmonic Orchestra from 1955 to 1972, with breaks between, and conducted the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra from 1970 to 1996.  These two great pillars of the German tradition remained pure and largely intact. So Masur's repertoire was standard Austro-German, like Thielemann's after him? Better that conductors should do what they love best.

The city of Leipzig has been a centre of German culture and idealism for centuries.  Consider its "favourite sons" among them Bach, Schumann and Mendelssohn. It also has liberal tendencies. When the Nazxis tried to rip out Mendelssohn's statue outside the Gewandhaus, the Mayor stood up to them. So when protests for freedom began in early 1989, Leipzig was at the heart of things.  Masur attended meetings at the Nikolaikirche, and stood with the thousands  who marched through the streets. Just as Furtwängler made a statement conducting Beethoven to make Goebbels squirm, Masur played Beethoven as a symbol of liberty and freedom.   In 1956 and again in 1968, the Soviets silenced protest by sending in tanks.  The Nikolaikirche movement's emphasis on non-violence grew from very realistic awareness of danger.  Just as Sibelius brought the world behind Finland against Russia,  Masur and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra used their prestige to galvanize support invoking moral authority.

A few weeks after the "revolution" of October 9th, the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra went on tour. At the time, we worried that they wouldn't be allowed out in case they defected.  When they walked onto the platform at the Sheldonian in Oxford, the audience began to cheer as a gesture of appreciation. The orchestra seemed visibly moved. Masur let them take in the solemnity of the moment for as long as possible, before launching into an impassioned evening of Beethoven.

Barely two years later, Masur left the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra for New York.  In London, we got to know him well, when he was Chief of the LPO during the first decade of the millennium, while simultaneously heading the Orchestra Nationale de France and guesting elsewhere. So much for the nonsense idea that conductors should only manage one orchestra at a time.  A friend  said Masur was "too foursquare", but another said that it was his DDR heritage, which puts other tastes into perspective. ie not Bernstein or Karajan.  Masur went on to many things after Leipzig, but Leipzig will always be central to his legacy.  It is sad that it has taken Masur's death to alert the world that he had a huge career long before he went to the west. 

Here is a a link to the best and most comprehensive obituary. Extremely well written, by someone who knewe the subject well. Once newspapers used to employ serious professionals to do these things, and update them when the subject died. In this case, the un named writer seems to have stopped about 10 years ago because the info on London and Paris is sketchy and seems to have been filled in by someone else, as some other parts like the first paragraphs.  But it gives an excellent and personal insight,

Below a clip of Masur conducting the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra at the Nikolaikirche.(not 1989)

Chailly Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra - Strauss Zarathustra, Metamorphosen and Till Eulenspeigel

Riccardo Chailly and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra's Strauss series at the Barbican, London, was built around the theme "Richard Strauss as Storyteller".  At first that might seem odd, for surely a composer who wrote operas must "tell stories" ? But the theme was well chosen. Operas are by no means the only way in which abstract music can form  narrative story-telling.  Of course tone poems can be enjoyed for themselves as abstract music, but they attract value-added depth when appreciated with an awareness of their literary, folkloric and philosophic inspiration. Significantly, Strauss didn't write symphonies as such, but more heterodox, free-wheeling hybrids.

In the first concert in this series  (read my review here),  Chailly focused on early Strauss, such as Don Juan, popular because it's theatrical but undemanding, and Ein Heldenleben which is often misunderstood because it satirizes the very idea of bombastic heroism, typified by the cult of Bayreuth. Ein Heldenleben needs to be heard in context with Guntram, Feuersnot and even Salomé. Born into Munich music circles, Strauss could connect to a world which didn't deify Wagner. While Mahler could re-invent the symphony, and Hugo Wolf could become "The Wagner of the Lied", Strauss did his own thing.

Thus Macbeth  (Op 23 1886-8) opened the second concert. Written when Strauss was in his very early 20's it's interesting because the subject is so dramatic that it almost begs operatic treatment. Yet Strauss avoids the obvious, using sounds instead of words. He assumed his listeners knew Shakespeare well  enough that they could figure the plot out for themselves.  Thus, atmospheric murmurings and screams of violent brass. Witchcraft, murder and cosmic guilt, wrapped up with vaguely "Scottish" sounds  which reference the fascination the Highlands held for 19th century middle Europe, from Beethoven to Donizetti to Verdi.  Macbeth gave its audience the frisson horror movies would give later generations. It's over the top, but therein lies its charm. The Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra laid on the atmosphere in gorgeous technicolour, and, in the process, highlighted Strauss's irreverent sense of humour.

A brief respite with Mozart Violin Concerto no 3 in G major, with Christian Tetzlaff as soloist. It's not a showpiece stunner but served to divide Macbeth from the altogether more demonic extremes of Also sprach Zarathustra.  Throughout this series, Chailly placed Mozart in counterpoint to Strauss, rather than the perhaps more obvious Liszt, but it kept the focus on Strauss.

Also sprach Zarathustra (Op  30 1896) is so ubiquitous that every knows it from TV ads, movies and (apparently) gaming sound effects. But when a band like the Leipzigers play , you forget the clichés and hear the music as shocking as it might have felt when it was new and unknown. The first bars rumbled with menace. The famous fanfare whipped across the sound space. Definitely the "shock of the new", still startling after 120 years. The piece unfolds in three sections, like scenes in a narrative. Friedrich Nietszche's Also sprach Zarathustra was still fairly new, and notorious., Ideas like "God is Dead" and "Between Good and Evil" still have the power to shock.  Cinematic treatment doesn't do justice to this music nor to the radical ideas behind it. Chailly conducted to bring out the savage raw edges and almost psychotic waywardness, absolutely essential when one remembers where Nietzschean values, or their misappropriation, would lead. There are connections also to Wagner. Nietzsche lost his illusions about Wagner fairly early on, and Wagner had no qualms about denigrating him. So much for heroism and bombastic barrage. An understanding of Strauss's music reveals that Strauss had no delusions, either. 

An orchestra like the Leipzig Gewandhausorchester plays with such lustrous beauty that they brought out the deep irony in the dance sections. These dances aren't pastoral, but poisoned, possibly a reference to the cult of the Volk that would appeal to those who misused the Romantiker fascination with an idealized German past. Exquisitely beautiful playing from the Leipziger's first violin, graceful, enticing yet sinister, reminiscent of the Hero theme in Ein Heldenleben.  The idea of dance pervades Strauss's music. Salomé dances to trap John the Baptist (and her parents). Elektra dances herself to death after Orestes chops us their parents. Even in Der Rosenkavalier, we can detect the formality of dance in the elegant stratagems which the Marschallin and Octavian devise to trap the brutish Baron Ochs. Poise but purpose, as this wonderfully intelligent performances demonstrated.

For their final concert, Chailly and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra chose Tod und Verklärung, Metamorphosen and Till Eulenspeigel, with Mozart Clarinet Concerto K 662 (Martin Fröst).  Tod und Verklärung (Op 24 1888) is a young composer's meditation on death, not so much a farewell but an intuition of what might come through transfiguration. Pairing it with Strauss's late masterpiece Metamorphosen was poignant. By 1944, Strauss could see the dangers Nietszche warned of come to fruition. The Germany he believed in was being destroyed, not just by bombs but by bombastic fake heroism - the Triumph of the Will.  This time perhaps Strauss could not think transfiguration.  In a way, I am glad that, at the last minute, I couldn't get to the concert because this daring  juxtaposition would have been overwhelming. It would have been so depressing, in fact, that it would not have been wise to end the series, and Chailly's tenure, on such a sad note. Ending, instead with Till Eulenspiegels lustige Streiche (Op 24, 1895),  brought the Chailly/Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra series back to the beginning, like an elegant rondo.  Till Eulenspiegel was a prankster, a medieval Fool who overturns conventional power and order with cheeky, irreverent good humour  We're right back into the world of Ein Heldenleben, where Strauss undermines the very idea of heroism, power and authority.

Chailly Leipzig Gewandhausorchester Barbican Strauss Heldenleben

Riccardo Chailly conducts the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra in three concerts at the Barbican, London, featuring dramatic orchestral works by Richard Strauss. Highlight of the first evening was Ein Heldenleben Op  40 (1898).  At a time when Wagner was fanatically idolized by followers even more extreme than The Master himself, it took guts for a composer still only in his 30's to poke fun at the whole concept of heroism. Cosima  would not have countenanced such impudence at Bayreuth. With his self-deprecating good humour, Strauss undermined  19th century concepts of power and value. In his own way, Strauss was more radical than Mahler.  Now there's a provocative thought!

For my review of the rest of the Chailly Leipzig Gewanndhausorchester Strauss Zyklus see HERE. 

The Hero (represented by solo violin) embarks upon a mission.The references to Siegfried's Journey down the Rhine are clear - glorious, glowing strings   The famous "golden"  Leipzig sound, augmented by Chailly's ear for operas: a wonderful combination that may, if anything, blossom further when Andris Nelsons takes over from Chailly. Characteristically, Strauss undercuts this theme with delicate woodwind flutterings. Perhaps we're hearing the wood dove. But Chailly's musicians played with such definition that I felt that they were highlighting the vulnerability that so many bombastic heroes try to hide. The horns called, but heralded adversity rather than adventure, Chailly didn't hide the underlying dissonance, so the section "Des Helden Gefährtin"  felt more equivocal than  serene. A good insight. Perhaps Strauss was thinking how Siegfried dumps on Brünnhilde, the real hero of the Ring. Siegfried has no fear, but also little depth. Perhaps Strauss was also thinking of himself and  the  tempestuous Pauline de Ahna. His loyalty to her was also an act of quiet, good-natured heroism.

Bearing in mind this dialectic between public display and private good sense, The Hero's Battlefield takes on deeper meaning. Wonderful orchestration employed for maximum effect and played with passion by the huge orchestra: yet also telling details in and around it, like the trumpet solo and the descending "starlight" figures that might recall the woodwinds theme from before, or lead towards the resolution where peace, and perhaps wisdom may lie. Where, earlier, the celli murmured worshipful resonance, now they and the harps evoked a more sophisticated, complex mood.  Now, with the richness and character of their playing, the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra demonstrated the true depth of meaning in this tone poem. The solo violin melody returned, confident and exqusitely beautiful, the full force of the orchestra supporting it. Real heroism , here : no costumes and hunting horns required.

 When Chailly started conducting Concertgebouw Amsterdam, there were voices of dissent because he was different to the conductors they'd had before, because he did "new music" and because his Mahler didn't sound like Mengelberg or Haitink. So? Donald Mitchell loved Chailly's Mahler, which is good enough for me.  I've learned a lot from Chailly's very individual approach. Chailly spent 16 years at the helm of the Concertgebouw, a fact which speaks for itself. When he moved to Leipzig, the chemistry was instant. Right from the start, their partnership felt perfect. The "Chailly era", which has lasted ten years now,will be remembered as legend.  In London, the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra is heard in this country often enough that they feel familiar, like a "house band"  Incredible luxury.

Before that perceptive Ein Heldenleben, Strauss's Don Juan Op 20, written ten years before, which showed how far Strauss had matured, as musician and as a human being. Between very early Strauss and early Strauss, Mozart Piano Concerto No 27 in B flat major, K595, with Maria João Pires.  The piece is elegant; she played with grace. But don't mistake  her delicate touch for weakness. Diminutive but formidably assertive, Pires's playing style is decidedly heroic. 

Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra Beethoven 9 Prom London

The Last Night of the Proms is a wonderful party, but for music lovers the Real Last Night of the Proms is the night before, with Beethoven' s Symphony no 9. No music more symbolic of the Proms ethos than this wonderful symphony. This year, the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra did the honours. This was a very special Prom indeed, for Leipzig's Beethoven tradition is even more glorious. The Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra has been doing Beethoven since Beethoven was "new music" and a living composer.

What a sense of occasion and what a rewarding performance! The famed "golden" sound of the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra came vividly to life. Alan Gilbert was vindicated, too. I've heard this orchestra do this symphony twice live with Riccardo Chailly. Gilbert's approach was less dynamic, but he had a steady feel for the way the structure of the symphony builds up. Like a series of progressive waves, oddly enough like the "marches" in Mahler Second/Mvt 1, but much better defined here.  Gilbert's approach is quiet, rather than boisterous, but this in itself brings out the strengths of this orchestra. Such control from the double basses and lower strings - it's not at all easy to hold lines so long barely above the volume of a whisper. Incredibly beautiful. Wow, can the Leipzigers play! Muted, glowing, and full of meaning: Beethoven is slowly revealing a miracle, which unfolds from (controlled) chaos.

Superb singing, yet again. The Leipzig Gewandhaus Choir , the Leipzig Opera Chorus and  Leipzig Gewandhaus Childrens's Choir sing with the same rich resonance as the orchestra with which they  are associated.  The sound is something special. The London Symphony Chorus must have enjoyed working with them. Even better, the soloists. Dimitry Belosselskiy's voice rang out powerfully, commanding rapt attention in a packed Royal Albert Hall.  Steve Davislim equally impressive. I adore this singer, who can sustain phrases almost beyond human possibility, and make them float, seemingly without effort. We can't see his lungs but we can hear his total mastery oif technique. On this occasion he was putting his heart into his words: absolutely stirring, the clarity of his timbre shining, just like the brass behind him. Davislim's lyrical, too, creating the sense of quirkiness that worked extremely well with what was happening in the orchestra. To Beethoven Turkish troops with their pipes and drums, must have seemed wildly exotic. The Leipzigers , refined and lush as they are, defined the jaunty rhythms we've heard so often we take them for granted, without noticing why they're there.

"Deine Zauber binden weider,
was die Mode streng geteilt:
Alle Menschen werden Bruder,
Wo den sanfter Flugel weilt"

Absolutely, it matters that Beethoven is referring to exotic strangers, including them in the community. The word "Freude", (Joy) recurs repeatedly, but what kind of "joy" is it that intoxicates with such exhilaration? This joy has the power to break down divisons, even in war zones. For Beethoven, perhaps it was music. An orchestra epitomises that kind of shared commtment and focussed purpose.  

And so the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra showed its soul.  Leipzig has always had liberal political traditions. Felix Mendelssohn was one of its great conductors. When the Nazis pulled down Mendelssohn's statue from outside the Gewandhaus building, the mayor of the city tried to protest. In 1989, thousands of East Germans fled west, provoking a crisis in the DDR. The protests that started in the nearby Nikolaikirche, supported by Kurt Masur and many members of the orchestra, led to the overthrow of repression and the reunification of Germany.

A few weeks after that, the Leipzig Gewandhaus came to Oxford, to the Sheldonian At that stage, we still thought the Soviets might march in, as they'd done before, so the occasion was extremely charged, emotionally. 

On the Real Last Night of the BBC Proms this year, the mood was happier and more relaxed - Freude in every sense. How glorious it felt - orchestra, choirs, soloists, conductor all on the same page literally, performing their hearts out. The choruses wore red and black - pretty meaningful - and the instruments glowed gold, bronze and silver.  in the background  turquoise and sapphire lighting, and a beam highlighting the bust of Sir Henry Wood, who helped create the Proms. He's long dead, but if he could sing, he'd be joining in too!

Nowadays it's fashionable to call for the end of the BBC. Sure it does bad things, but where would we be without it? Consider.

Big B's at the Barbican and how to get them

Big B's at the Barbican 2013-14 season - Berlioz, Brahms, Bruckner, Britten, Birtwistle, Beethoven and even a bit of Boulez. Now that the booklet is out, we can look more closely at what's on offer with the caveat - be aware! All venues do complex multi buys but plan this Barbican.

Brahms is straightforward enough. The Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra with Riccardo Chailly are doing all four Brahms symphonies at the end of October, each juxtaposed with concerto works. With performers like this and soloists like Leonidas Kavakos, Pierre-Laurent Aimard, and Arcadi Volodos, you can't go wrong. Two string quartets concerts too. .Prices up to £65 per person per main concert. It's not cheap but with quality like this, you can't really expect gimmioks. It will be good to hear Chailly and the Leipzigers traverse Brahms, especially as they're spacing their concerts with rest time between, a relief after their rushed Beethoven symphony series.

Programming for Berlioz is more diffuse. Valery Gergiev conducts the LSO in four concerts. For me, the key concerts will be The Damnation of Faust (3 & 7th Nov) and Roméo et Juliette (6th & 13th Nov), because the casts are very good indeed - Olga Borodina, Ildar Abdrazakov asnd Michael Spyres. Gergiev's approach to Roméo et Juliette is likely to be completely different to Mark Elder's OAE performance in 2012 (read analysis here), but part of the way we get deeper into repertoire is by hearing alternative takes. You can book discounts thru LSO multibuy for these, but if you want to go to Berlioz L'enfance du Christ on 15/12 you'll need to book thru the BBCSO multibuy.

In May 2014, the Barbican celebrates Birtwistle at 80. Birtwistle is easily Britain's most significant composer since Britten (though some might say since Purcell). Two concert stagings of his operas Gawain and Yan Tan Tethera (16/5/14 and 29/5/14).  Martyn Brabbins, Leigh Melrose and John Tomlinson in the former. Baldur Brönnimann, Roderick Williams, Claire Booth, Andrew Kennedy in the latter. In addition, Daniel Harding conducts Birtwistle's seminal Earth Dances on 20/5 with the LSO, Oliver Knussen conducts an all-Birtwistle programme which includes Silbury Air on 25/5. Brönnimann conducts another concert on 30/5 where Birtwistle features with Holst and RVW. The secret to discounts lies with the orchestras. Harding's concert is part of the LSO series but Brönnimann's second concert is part of the Britten Sinfonia series. No discounts for the operas or the BCMG/Knussen concerts. Since all of these together form a kind of "Total Immersion" they are all worth going to regardless of price.At a time when the arts face cuts, we in the audience had better be prepared to support what we care for.

The Benjamin Britten series is the one to be vigilant about. Some of the concerts are absolute essentials, Ian Bostridge is singing Britten's Our Hunting Fathers on 8/11/13. This is one of the keys into Britten's soul. Britten's music is sometimes hard to take because he's emotionally oblique, but that surface reserve hides intense spiritual turbulence. Britten without bite isn't Britten. We need to hear the wild oceans and surreal nightmares in his music: they inform the tightness of his idiom. Bostridge comes closer to anyone else, including Peter Pears, to accessing the darkest, deepest levels of Britten's inner world. When Bostridge sings Britten he isn't "easy listening" and smooth. But then, Britten isn't either. In this centenary year we need more than ever to connect to Britten beneath the surface, and to understand just how radical he really is.

Bostridge is also singing The Madwoman in Britten's Curlew River on 14 and 16/5 at St Giles Cripplegate. Curlew River is an extremely disturbing work on many levels. It uses Japanese and medieval European form to deal with a subject so traumatic that it can't, perhaps, be dealt with other than in this indirect, stylized way. It's also a piece that needs to be experienced rather than simply listened to. Hence the performance will take place in a church, augmented by a multi media staging by Netia Jones, who understands Britten's aesthetic.

Britten's 100th birthday on 22/11 is being celebrated by The Sixteen with a  programme of Britten choral pieces, while Steuart Bedford, a Britten associate, is conducting Albert Herring with the BBC SO on 23/11, The really high profile spectacular will be a performance of the War Requiem at the Royal Albert Hall on 30./11. Semyon Bychkov conducts the BBCSO, soloists are Marina Poplavskaya, Andrew Kennedy and Roderick Williams. This will almost certainly be broadcast, either on BBC Radio 3 or on TV, it's that important, but you want to be part of it live and tell your grandchildren.

Now for the pricing catch. The Barbican  heavily advertises  an "Illuminating Britten" weekend on 8-10/11 for £95 which gives you a 20% discount on tickets for the concert on 8/11 and to a programme of dances to Britten's music at the Barbican Theatre. No discounts to the other concerts mentioned above, particularly the War Requiem, except for Albert Herring which is part of the BBCSO multibuy. What is "illuminating Britten"?  It's "three days of concerts, films, mini-recitals and discussions featuring those...who have a special understanding of Britten's music. Curated by film maker John Bridcut." It sounds very similar to other composer events, like the Knussen, Elliott Carter,, George  Benjamin and other Immersion weekends in recent years,  except that it costs lots more and you have to pay full price for the really big concerts. Bridcut is a genius at marketing, but  that also means that anyone into Britten has already seen the films, read the books and heard some of the music.

 Like it or not, but if we want culture, we're going to have to take some responsibility for paying. 
PS Thanks to Ri ch for the great photo !

Mahler 6th Chailly Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra Prom 69

Have Riccardo Chailly and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra become one of those legendary pairings, like Furtwängler and the Berlin Philharmonic? Certainly in their Mendelssohn (read more here)  but Chailly's account of Mahler's Symphony no 6 in A minor at BBC Prom 69 gave much to consider. After two years of indifferent and often downright disgraceful Mahler performances, at last Chailly and the Leipzigers give us one that sets us thinking.  So much so that I haven't been able to sleep all night, (too much coffee) and am feeling shattered. So this review won't do them justice!

When Chailly conducted Mahler in Amsterdam, it wasn't the easiest fit, since the Concertgebouw Orchestra has such a formidable Mahler tradition, and some of the players needed time to adjust. There are some fine recordings from that period (an exceptional Des Knaben Wunderhorn) but when Chailly moved to Leipzig, something special happened.  Chailly's Mahler is different, so devotees of the Bernstein style for example will be aghast. But so what? Mahler is such a great composer that there's always room for thoughtful interpretation, and thoughtful listening for that matter. No less an authority than Donald Mitchell has such a high regard for Chailly that there's a big section on Chailly in his Discovering Mahler (2007)

Chailly works with the strengths of the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra, not against it. The ostinato march that runs throughout the symphony enters unobtrusively. No stomping, but a fleet-footed sense of forward movement true to the "energico" marking. Mahler 6 connects to Mahler 3. In both, the suggestion of peaks and open vistas, "mountains" as metaphysical metaphor. (read more here).  The cowbells are somtimes interpreted as souvenirs of Alpine meadows, but Mahler preferred that they be heard as sounds heard from a distance (which alpine cowbells are). Chailly keeps them so muted they are only just audible, creating spatial depth.

The Leipziger's characteristic grace makes the cursive figures particularly seductive. You might hear them as Ruckblick (backward glances), but Chailly makes me think of round shapes as oppsed to angular, feminine ideas as opposed to masculine. Through so much of Mahler we can find this dichotomy. Interpret them as you will. Is Mahler referiing to his muse Alma, or to the "Eternal Feminine", to creative empathy as opposed to negative regression? Warmth comes naturally to this orchestra, offering opportunities to explore this side of Mahler's music more prosaic readings can miss.

In this performance I was struck by the prominence Mahler gives to the harps. They feature before the solo violin passage in the Allegro. Listen to the broadcast on BBC Radio 3 and follow how the harp passages are sharply defined and continue to resurface throughout. The flute solo in the Andante was exquisite, also garlanded by harps. Usually, everyone's listening for the hammer blows and crashing cymbals, but Mahler is making a much more subtle point, and the Leipzigers bring it out more clearly than usual.

Chailly chose Andante-Scherzo. He gives weight to the strings in the Andante, using the "golden" Leipzig glow so the movement feels like a languorous looking back, the repeating patterns nicely burnished. It also gives balance to the symphony, where dichotomy is of the essence. And balance is in the DNA of a Mendelssohn orchestra. Much has been written about the Andante-Scherzo, Scherzo-Andante war, but dogmatism is the enemy of art.  Much moree interesting is why a conductor makes his choices, not what the choice may be. Whatever we might personally think is irrelevant: it's the conductor's decision as artist.

Chailly's Scherzo begins optimistically, but staccato figures return, and the circular figures develop  bizarre turbulence, which then gives way to stillness, so you hear the staccato up close, precisely defined. This performance wasn't particularly demonic, but the irregular rhythmic shifts suggest dangerous imbalance, If the quietness evokes a heartbeat, do these patterns suggest arrthymia?  That may not have been in Mahler's mind but this symphony comes from the same time period when He wrote Um Mitternacht, which refers to a man listening to the beat of his heart in the stillness of the night. "Ein einz'ger Puls war angefacht um Mitternacht". All that separates us from life or death is a single, fragile pulse. Try this one yourself at midnight. It's scary.

Volume increases but the brass are mute. Xylophone, glockenspeil, tam-tam and of course the harps. Chailly makes the orchestra sound like an array of ticking mechanisms. Do these ostinato patterns mark the passage of time? For the symphony draws to its inevitable close. Mahler specifies that the hammer blows should sound hollow, not bright and brassy. No-one has figured the perfect hammerblow but the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra uses a large wooden box and a massive wooden hammer (see photo). Mahler's hero isn't blown away by theatrical furies, but felled by dull thuds. After the first hammerblow, we hear those harps again, plucking that fine, clear melody that suggests open vistas or memory or whatever. The solo violin makes one last entry and suddenly tempi whizz past,  and the opening march returns in tiny rustling fragments, hurtling forward, decelerating.. Then the final hammerblow and the strings play a high, sustained chord. The hero has flatlined, can't be  resuscitated. Or find redemption. That's why Mahler 6 is really "tragic" because unique among Mahler's symphonies, there's no transcendence.

Please read  my review of Prom 69  Chailly, Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra Messaien  Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum HERE. 

Photos: Roger Thomas

Messiaen Et exspecto Prom 69 Chailly Leipzig Gewandhaus

Superb Mahler Sixth Riccardo Chailly, Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra at the BBC Proms, Prom 69. Such a stunning performance that it would be wrong to do something superficial. Plenty of places to go if you want shallow, but it would pain me. After a year and a half of indifferent to horrible Mahler performances, at last something really worth listening to!  So please come back to this site tomorrow. UPDATE ! Chailly's Leipzig Mahler 6 HERE. In the meantime, I'll comment on Chailly and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Messiaen Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum.

This Prom (BBC Prom 69) was unusual because it wasn't loud. No strings attached in more ways than one! The Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra have one of the most gorgeous string sections in the world, Without string sections, orchestras are "dead". So Chailly and the Leipzigers understand what Et exspecto means. It was commissioned by the French Government to commemorate those who died in the 1939-45 war, who would never return.

Messiaen's Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum is a companion piece to The Quartet for the End of Time. (read more here).  The quartet was first performed in a prisoner of war camp on broken instruments in freezing conditions.  Hence the spartan economy with which Et exspecto is orchestrated. You don't hear the strings, but you listen "because" they are not there. Chailly and the Leipzigers also respect the long silences Messiaen specified between movements. At first, the Proms audience didn't know what to expect and coughed and fidgetted but then twigged Chailly had his head bowed for a reason. These silences were meant for contemplation. Messiaen, being devout, understood the Stations of the Cross in Catholic practice, each Station a kind of scena to be meditated on before going onto the next. Respecting this silence between movements is part of the progress of the work as a whole.

Contemplation in a work as shockingly dramatic as this? It's perfectly in order for any conductor to go for the overwhelming power of the piece, but the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra isn't brassy and showy like some orchestras are. Volume isn't what they are about. Their Et exspecto was gentle, but from an orchestra like this, violence would not be sincere.  What's more, Et exspecto isn't really about Death but about resurrection. The earth is torn apart by cataclysm, but the end result is eternal life and union with God, or whatever higher force you might conceptualize. Et exspecto is extreme: hence the crashing cymbals and wailing brass. But gloomy it's not.

There is no such thing as "non-interpretation" in any form of music. You can't even look at a score without interpreting how the notes might sound in relation to each other. Chailly's Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum may be different, but he's arrived at it by interpreting why it might be the way it's written. "Music is not in the notes" said Mahler. It's why the notes are put together.
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Here is what I wrote about Messiaen Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum last year at the time of the Tsunami in Japan.  Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum.


Because Olivier Messiaen's Et exspecto resurrection mortuorum is about the End of the World, it's scary to listen to at this time (Japanese Tsunami). But maybe this is, after all, the time to listen to what it really means. There is a deliberate Japanese connection, since Messiaen visited and loved Japan.  He is emphasizing universal spiritual values which apply to all, Christian or not.

Note the orchestration. No strings! The Quartet for the End of Time can be heard as a prototype. Twenty years later, and after nuclear war became a reality, Messiaen goes for maximium power. Massed percussion forms the bedrock of Et exspecto, for it represents the earth itself, ripped asunder by the Apocalypse. Specifically Messiaen uses six giant Asian gongs, more powerful than tam tams. Gongs call the faithful to order. Ritual progression is very much part of this music's structure, so gongs mark stages in its raga-like plateaux. Metallic percussion, too, rather than timpani, for dissonance. Pitched cowbells, and a gigantic set of tubular bells which ring out like an organ, the composer's personal instrument. Against the percussion,woodwinds create birdsong or the sound of wings in flight. Brasses range from small D trumpet to Wagnerian tuba. What would the Final Judgement be without trumpets?  Messiaen wants strident, not resonant.This work is, after all, about waking the dead.

The ritual character of Et exspecto is underlined by quotations from different parts of the Bible. It's a Via Crucis which unfolds in stages. First: "From the deepest abyss I cry, Lord hear me!", which is what Jesus is supposed to have called out in his time of agony. Massive dark chords like tectonic plates, shifting inexorably. The brass like the rumbling of some deep fissure, which explodes into wild, screaming chords and ends in a single, piercing shriek. Hearing this after Sendai is painful. Then silence, extremely important as it marks an invisible, inaudible transit.

In the second section, a moment of calm reassurance, for Christ has risen from the dead. Diaphanous textures, which grow into quirky, jerky angles. The movement of birds, intuitively darting in crazy angles so they can't be caught. As Messiaen the ornithologist would have understood. Birds are fragile, but they evolved from dinosaurs, and survived. Even greater stillness marks the beginning of the third section, but now the tubular bells toll, calling like the bells in a church. The woodwinds describe an even more powerful bird theme - a bird from the Amazon jungle, apparently, which has existed outside civilization. Messiaen is referring to creation itself, connecting the Beginning and End of Time. In Christian belief, an Angel blows a trumpet and graves open. Hence the darkening "earthquake fissure" theme.

Wild,  jerky figures associated with the "birds" start the fourth section, which soon  the percussion explodes. When these gongs crash,  it feels like blinding light, a shocking, flashing thunderbolt in sound. At this moment, I can't help but think of the cataclysmic light of a nuclear explosion. Ironically, it's the Resurrection, start of a new era.

The final movement almost defies description. Powerful ostinato, gongs and blocked percussion, repeated over and over, driving the point in so there's no mistaking its force. Gradually the music turns, like a juggernaut. The image of an eternal wheel, perhaps propelling the music ever forward. Messiaen uses the quotation "And I heard the voice of an immense crowd". It's an immense crowd becauase all who have died in the past have been raised from death and suffering. (That's assuming God doesn't discriminate between faiths). That's why the whole orchestra marches forth in unison. Gradually the pace builds up to an overwhelming climax. It's not a march in conventional symphonic terms but owes its structure, perhaps, to Japanese gagaku, which inspired Messiaen's ground-breaking Sept Haïkaï, written in 1962, soon after Messiaen returned from Japan, and two years before Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum.

In Sept Haïkaï,  the image is a “floating gate”, the torii at the Miyajima shrine in Japan. The red arches stand alone in the sea, as if suspended between earth and sky. It is a gate, but to what? The arches stand amid a panoramic open  landscape. As the weather changes, as time changes, the surroundings change dramatically. Photo by H Orihashi. Read more about Sept Haïkaï HERE.


For Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum means "In expectation of the resurrection of the dead". It's not meant to be oppressive or gloomy. It was commissioned as a memorial to the French war dead, but Messiaen was  having no truck with militarism or even national glory. Instead he comes up with something so unique and so universal he wanted it performed in the Alps. So if the Christian form of this piece bothers you, remember that for Messiaen, God resided in Nature, and mountains were Nature's cathedrals.

Mendelssohn Leipzig Gewandhaus Chailly Prom 67

Mendelssohn loved the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra, and they revere him in return. Impossible then to miss the Leipzigers all-Mendelssohn Prom 67 at the Royal Albert Hall. When Riccardo Chailly opened their new season in 2005 as Director, they programmed Mendelssohn over and over. It was a statement of intent. Since then the orchestra has surpassed itself,  the legendary "golden"sound regenerated anew. Chailly and the Leipzig Gewanndhaus Orchestra are a match made in heaven, from which Mendelssohn is smiling down.

Starting the Prom with the Overture from Ruy Blas (op 95, 1839) overturns stereotypes of Mendelssohn as "effete".  The Overture was written for a brand new play by Victor Hugo, which Mendelssohn hated. So Mendelssohn writes an overture so punchy it's even more dramatic than the play itself!  Those sharp "footsteps" in the strings, sometimes mimicking guitars, the wild  turbulent longer lines, the extreme fanfares. Mendelssohn creating savage satire, mocking vulgar taste and excess. Chailly and the Leipzigers play with fire and finesse.  This stylish elegance is significant, because the Overture to Ruy Blas can be read as a riposte to Berlioz, to popular fashion, and indeed, to Wagner and Liszt, had he known how they would maul him after his death for reasons of their own. 

Having blown away the cobwebs, Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in E minor emerged with even greater purity. Although the piece is so famous, Nicolaj Znaider, Chailly and the Leipzigers made it feel fresh. Exquisite, the distillation of everything beautiful and poignant. When I die, I want the last sounds I hear to be that elusive melody.... so sad and yet so life affirming.  Each time the theme returns, Znaider enriches it, haloed by sensitive woodwinds.  On the BBC broadcast, you can hear Znaider taking breaths, which weren't audible live. This music is sublime, but Znaider's extra personal touch reminds us that Mendelssohn wrote for human beings. This was s a breathtaking performance, truly committed and beautifully judged. An experience never to be forgotten. It was a privilege to be there.

There's more to music drama than Wagner: had Mendelssohn lived, would we be thinking of opera in a different way? Mendelssohn's Overture to The Fair Melusine (op 32. 1833) expresse big ideas, but without words. We don't need to be told, we respond intuitively to the surging climaxes and delicate "water" imagery even if we don't know who Melusine was.   Chailly and the Leipzigers bring out the inherent drama in the piece yet never sacrifice poise to flash. This is drama for refined minds, thinking in abstract terms, yet it's so emotionally potent. The "crashing waves" give way to a single clarinet, which is then supported by winds. The music ends, but our imaginations continue to react.

Mendelssohn's Symphony no 5 "The Reformation", was last heard at the Proms in 2009 (Yannick Nézet-Séguin and the Scottish Chamber Orchestra) but Chailly and the Leipzigers are in an altogether more exalted league. No comparison. The Leipzig Mendelssohn tradition is unique. Players may change, but know what Mendelssohn meant to Leipzig, and to the huuman spirit. It is no coincidence that the orchestra was involved right at the start oif the protests which would lead to the collapse of the GDR, and thus to dismemberment of the whole Soviet bloc. The Nazis could smash the statue of Mendelssohn outside the Gewandhaus, but they could not destroy what Mendelssohn symbolizes.

Mendelssohn's Fifth Symphony "The Reformation"  is more uncompromising than the glorious Lobgesang (Symphony no 2) or the delicious Italian (Symphony no 4) but it's spartan for very profound reasons. It was written to commemorate the Augsburg Confession of 1530, where the Holy Roman Emporer recognized that Protestants and Catholics could coexist.  This was a critcial moment in German history, from which in many ways the Protestant German identity arose. Without Augsburg, no J S Bach, or even Meistersinger, for that matter.  Mendelssohn revered Bach at a time when the earlier composer was almost forgotten, so this symphony is Mendelssohn's musical statement of faith. Chailly and the Leipzigers firmly carve out the quotations from  Ein' feste Burg is unser Gott, for this is the foundation stone of the symphony (and indeed of the German musical tradition).  Absolutely rock solid, so the counterpoint  melody seems even freer and more joyous. Note that "dancing" march, another reminder that Wagner owed much to Mendelsohn. 

This performance had undfamilair bits because the edition used was an early version, not heard before in this country. Yet Chailly and the Leipzigers performed it with such committment that the characteristic warmth of their style won over. Beautiful brass - listen for the trombones, trumpets and the contrabass ophicleide pictured above, (not as strident as a tuba). Magnificent flute! With Mendelssohn, always the importance of individual voice, and here this voice was intensely assertive, though graceful. 

Alas, some in the audience saw fit to impose their voices over the music. It's unfair on everyone else. When the idiot shouted Bravo! between movements, it  broke the mood. Chailly took a while to readjust, visibly annoyed. This kind of interruption is barbaric. No one needs to be told that Mendelssohn and these performers are good. All it shows is that the shouter is not really listening, but trying to dominate. Save that for Brown Shirt rallies, please let the rest of us listen to the music.

Please someone at the BBC tell the presenter not to praise this sort of vulgarity (and the silly flag waving hands) because it only encourages buffoons who think they are more important than the music or anyone else.

Mendelssohn's Wedding March for an encore - only two extra instruments needed, and extra horn and cymbals. Although it's wedding music, it's not easy to march down the aisle because the rhythms aren't regular enough. The piece comes from A Midsummers Night's Dream. Fairies and Grecian nobles don't stomp.  Wagner's Wedding music from Lohengrin works better because it gives better cues for bride and groom to troop in procession. Which rather summarizes a few more differences  between Mendelssohn and Wagner.

No mausoleum - Chailly Beethoven 6 and 4 Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra Barbican

There's a sci fi movie about a utopia where medicine is so advanced that no-ones dies unless they choose to. They go into a chamber where they're soothed away with music, sights and senses they find most blissful. One man chooses Beethoven Symphony no 6  What an ideal exit into the unknown, , bathed in the glow of this uplifting, life affirming music.

At the Barbican, London, Riccardo Chailly and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra performed Beethoven Symphonies No 6 and 4 for an unusual audience. Lots of young children, people under 30 and older folk clearly new to music, most of them absorbing avidly. What an ideal entry into the world of music! Chailly and the Leipzigers represent great tradition, but not a dead tradition. They played Beethoven when Beethoven was new and radical. In fact, he still is, as this Leipzig Beethoven series has proved.

The gruelling month-long tour is drawing to a close, so orchestra and conductor seemed more relaxed on this occasion. So their Beethoven 4th was elegantly paced.  The mysterious beginning emphasized the poise of the second movement, and the two allegro movements crackled with mordant wit. Those cheeky horns, and trumpets and trombones positioned so they blast away at well-mannered strings!

Bruno Mantovani's Upon One Note is built upon the opening B flat of Beethoven 4, which Mantovani calls "questioning". He uses it as an agent provocateur provoking different responses from different sections of the orchestra. Very striking, eventful beginning, contrasting densities. I thought of the "storm" in the Pastoral in the  noisier passages,  though Mantovani's iinterest seems to lie more in the way the smaller themes brush against the big and challenge them.

In Beethoven 6th, the Leipzigers showed why live performance is so much fun. Studio performances may technically be more perfect, but live has a zing even when it's broadcast. (So long live BBC Radio 3 concert transmissions).  Music should not be mausoleum.

This wasn't the most splendid of Pastorals, and the first horn blew a few flats, though he's probably more mortified than anyone else. But he's obviously a very good musician and has been working hard all month. He deserves appreciation. If anything, the deviation from norm made the whole performance seem more spontaneous. Musicians aren't machines, they've got to sound as if they're real human beings making music together. "Together" is the crucial word, for there are three parties to any listening experience - composer, performers and listeners.  What we get from a performance also depends on what we put in.  Some in this audience were clearly rapt, and won't forget their night with Beethoven and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra even when they're older and greyer.

Chailly Beethoven 1 & 7 Barbican Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra

Riccardo Chailly and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra returned again to the Barbican, London, for the second concert in their Beethoven symphony cycle (read an overview and review of the first concert here). If anything, this performance was better than the previous evening. Tours are wonderful, but take their toll. The Leipzigers are playing 27 concerts in four countries in a month, plus masterclasses, media events and the necessary socializing that is a natural part of the business. Pretty heroic. Listeners have to make allowances. But it's a small price to pay for the sheer joy of live music experienced communally.

Chailly has been stressing Beethoven's modernity and the Leipzig Gewandhaus tradition of performing great music when it was still brand new. This is an extraordinarily healthy approach to music, given the regressive nonsense against modern music in some quarters. Chailly and Leipzig to the rescue!

This Beethoven 7th nipped along as if hardwired into some power source, yet its fundamental elegance shone through. Nicely poised first movement, a fine tension between the lyrical passages, pauses and the glorious forward thrust of the main theme. The allegretto thus unfolds spaciously from firm foundations. The repeated ostinato figures progress as if in procession. Canter into gallop in the presto. Rapid fire ostinato introduces the final movement, which builds up to whip-cracking fury. Yet the Leipzigers are completely disciplined, their energy focussed. Alarums, flying figures and firm, assertive final moments.

Steffan Schleiermacher's Bann, Bewegung mit Beethovens Erster (fixed, moving with Beethoven's First) was a perceptive opener. Schleiermacher's spellbound by innate tension in Beethoven's First, where elegaic lyricism confronts ostinato, the pulse alternately abrupt and sweeping. Stimulating conjunction. These new commissions aren't meant to be heard as stand alone music, so there's no point in sneering that they're not up to Beethoven standard. No one can be, Schleiermacher's piece is an imaginative reaction to Beethoven, and as valid as any commentary.

The Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra is off to Paris for the weeked - working - and back in London on Tuesday 1st. This concert is broadcast by BBC Radio 3 on demand. Listen to some of the spoken parts. So read me here on Classical Iconoclast to get things from source. Big grin !

Beethoven Chailly Leipzig Gewandhaus Barbican

Triumphant start to Riccardo Chailly's  Leipzig Gewandhaus Beethoven cycle at the Barbican. This is major. It feels like a pilgrimage in reverse, because the Leipzigers are touring, bringing their Beethoven live to audiences in Vienna, Paris and London.

The Leipzig Gewandhaus was founded in 1732, before Beethoven was born, and its permanent orchestra in 1781, when Beethoven was just a boy. To Leipzig audiences, Beethoven himself was once "new music". This orchestra has a fabulous reputation. Nearly everything they do is interesting. When Riccardo Chailly went to Leipzig, some wondered how he'd develop the ochestra's traditional rich, warm sound. But the relationship was a match made in heaven. Together, Chailly and the Leipzigers have produced truly amazing things. They're phenomenal. The new Chailly/Leipzig Gewandhaus full Beethoven Symphony boxed set, just out, should be unmissable, even in a market gorged with Beethoven cycles. It's not on amazon yet, but you can buy copies in the Barbican foyer.

The Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra's Beethoven tradition goes back to when Beethoven was a "living composer". This photo shows the orchestra's Beethoven tribute in Berlin in 1952, with Franz Konwitschny. Perhaps being in the DDR preserved the orchestra's musical integrity, as it wasn't subject to commercial influences, but Leipzig has a radical tradition. The protests that started in the nearby Nikolaikirche, supported by Kurt Masur and many members of the orchestra led to the overthrow of repression and the re-unification of Germany. In 1989, a few weeks after the protests, the Leipzig Gewandhaus orchestra made what was then a rare appearance abroad. It was an emotionally-charged experience, for them as well as the audience. I remember them looking up at the Sheldonian around them, their faces lit up with awe. It can't have been the architecture, since there's just as much (or was) in Leipzig as in Oxford. It must have been the sense of occasion. And they were playing Beethoven 3, the "Eroica".

Under Chailly, the Leipziger's Beethoven is heroic, too.  Beethoven's Fifth Symphony is so wonderful that it even sounds good when played by school bands. The Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra lifts it into another stratosphere altogether. Chailly's tempi are fast, so the music feels driven as if by metaphysical forces, yet the orchetra is so technically secure that there's no strain whatever. This is Beethoven, exhilarated by the discovery of the new, in music and in the times he lived. Such energy, though I suspect the recording and other performances will be even better. Oddly, the pauses between movements were unusually long, which I don't understand. Chailly was mopping his brow a lot. But if he's under the weather, he's still leagues ahead of most anyone else. In 20 days, Chailly and the Leipzigers have performed 19 concerts - 8 more to go !

This traverse of Beethoven Symphony no 2 was more stately, for it's not as shockingly innovative as the Fifth. The second slow movement here was elegantly structured, emphasizing Beethoven's mastery of form, the bedrock which sustained his audacious ventures into new territory.

The Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra performed most of Beethoven's music when it was contemporary, so it's appropriate that it should commission works by present day composers showing their response to his example. Beethoven's Fifth is such a towering phenomenom that it's become part of world culture. Even those who've never heard of Beethoven as composer know his name through Beethoven the Dog movies. Beethoven 5 eclipses all else, so respect is due for Carlo Boccadoro's Ritratto di musico, which held up credibly. Boccadora reimagines the Fifth, focusing on the relationship between strings, winds and brass, but with prominence given to timpani, percussion being a 20th century addition to orchestral colour. It's almost like a jazz combo writ large, with interesting syncopated effects. I particularly liked the solo bass being tapped, not plucked or bowed, the wood producing a nice archaic sound, a reminder of the period instruments Beethoven and the Leipzigers' ancestors would have known.

What the fall of the Berlin Wall means to me

A view of from the Potsdamerplatz along Stresemannstrasse in 1962, Please follow the link as the man who took this shot has a whole series of photos, in two sets 1959/60 and 1962, which can be viewed in photostream. Watch both series as slide presentations - they're very moving.

The division lasted only 40 years, and before that Germany had only been united under Bismarck. But the fall of the wall needs commemorating because of what it stands for.

Once it seemed that the Iron Curtain would never lift. It seemed almost impossible to imagine that the stranglehold of the Soviet Bloc would ever end. When Kurt Masur led the non-violent protest in Leipzig, many held their breath, expecting reprisals to follow. No one had forgotten 1956 or 1968. when tanks rolled in elsewhere. Yet the simple, brave Leipzig stand snowballed. Europe isn't divided in the same way now. Of course there are problems, but it's altogether less insane. The fall of the Berlin Wall symbolizes that things can change, no matter what the obstacles might be. And without violence.

The other day in the UK people commemorated the "Gunpowder Plot" of 1605, an inept attempt by Catholic plotters to blow up Parliament. Relative to that actual danger the plotters presented, it tapped into jingoism and uglier things. When people burn an effigy on Guy Fawkes night they're commemorating hate. So it does matter to remember the Fall of the Wall, because it commemorates another way of thinking and being. It may be fashionable to be cynical, but sneering is a symptom of cancer in the soul. There are still walls all over the world, physical or otherwise, so remembering Berlin - and Leipzig - is an act of faith that might doesn't always vanquish right.

A few weeks after Masur made his stand in Leipzig, the Gewandhaus Orchestra came to the Sheldonian in Oxford for a concert, scheduled months before, in very different circumstances. It was their first appearance outside since the situation had developed. The turmoil was still going on, even then no one dared hope for too much. When the musicians trooped in, the atmosphere was palpable, hundreds of people willing them to know they were supported. They looked overwhelmed, looking all round, at the building, the people. The programme was all-Beethoven, and they played their hearts out.

More on Chailly's Mahler 10 Prom

Interesting performances grow in your mind. I thought I knew Mahler’s 10th pretty well, but Chailly’s performance at the Proms keeps generating new ideas. Another good reason to steer clear of “instant” opinions.

The Tenth feels like a departure, for of course every new work is a new venture. But it’s not a departure into death as commonly assumed, but something quite unusual even in Mahler terms.

The lyricism in the Adagio harks back to the Adagietto of the 5th Symphony, which was also a tribute to Alma. It also evokes the wide, open landscapes Mahler loved so much. These symbolize the limitless panoramas so many of the symphonies open out towards – “eternal light”.

When the Adagio is performed as a stand alone, it doesn’t matter so much what a conductor puts into it. But when it’s performed as part of the wider symphony, it needs to be shaped by wider considerations. Since the Tenth is a sketch, not a completion, it’s not going to be fully orchestrated, so the Adagio needs a lighter, more elusive touch than if it were a straightforward love song.

Right from the start it’s apparent that there are two voices here, the dark rich one and the light, beautiful string theme. Obviously, it may be a reference to Mahler’s marriage but what’s significant is that the “scream” chords” could refer to different things. Are they cries of pain, or sudden flashes of knowledge? Either possibility works even though the actual notes remain the same.

So this is a departure for Mahler on another level. All along what stands out in his music is the idea of an individual, usually pitted against vast forces. Of course dual themes occur everywhere in nearly all music but what’s interesting fort me in Mahler 10th is how duality is embedded into the symphony’s structure. The Purgatorio bridges two Scherzi. Is this an echo of the two Nachtmusiks in Mahler 7 ? Conventional middle movements can be heard as a climax but in the Seventh, the middle movement separates two different stages in the journey towards the glowing Finale. Incidentally the most wonderful performance of the Seventh I have ever heard was Chailly and the Leipzig Gewandhaus. He placed the mandolin in the centre of the orchestra, not tucked away in a corner, so the “lone voices” were absolutely at the heart of the music, not some peripheral detail. There’s a reason!

I’ve written about the Purgatorio below and how it may represent the frailty of a needy child who dies before he can be fed. Song is so central to any understanding of Mahler that it’s not a coincidence. What was Mahler thinking about, returning to an early song at this time in his life, when he was, like the starving child, put aside by a woman who had other things on her mind ?

So like the Nachtmusiks, the Scherzi represent different stages. The first mocks the Adagio, but the second is altogether more complex: this was the part Mahler left most incomplete. See what I’ve written below about his markings and the prepositional nature of the section. It can never be completed because Mahler himself may not have known. In this performance, Chailly creates the sketch-like nature of the section so it really does feel incomplete, which may seem a bit shocking, like entering a room to find the floor opens onto the sky.

That’s why I think it is so important that an orchestra as good as the Leipzig Gewandhaus is central to performance. A really good orchestra can suggest sounds out of silence, creating reverberating echoes than span voids. The Leipzig strings are famous for their luminous, rich sheen : so the beauty of their playing registers on the mind even when they aren’t actually playing. Since the strings create so much of the “Alma” theme such playing warms the music even if it’s loosely orchestrated. Like perfume, an invisible presence.

So here we have two voices in the symphony, not one. What did Mahler mean when he wrote on the pages of the “Fireman’s funeral”, that only Alma knew what it meant? For once Alma wasn’t telling. It must have been something quite deep, not simply a reaction to a stranger’s funeral. But the point is that the composer is no longer a lone figure, like the hero in the First Symphony. GM and Alma now stand together looking out of their hotel room, down at the city below them.

Daniel Harding’s recording is by far more attuned to the “Devil “ theme and the spiky, edgy anxiety in the Scherzi. His “fireman’s funeral” is truly horrific, the drumstrokes devastate. Chailly’s version isn’t nearly so dark, though both lead to the same transformational, transcending resolution. I’ve been listening to them both side by side, and it’s amazing what that reveals. It’s like hearing the same story from both sides. Harding expresses a Mahler perspective but Chailly emphasizes the role of Alma.

Hence Mahler’s references all over the manuscript. “To live for you, to die for you” and the poignant “Almschi”. He may not have finished the symphony but he had no illusions that it had no meaning.

There are several different performing versions of this symphony and they keep evolving, which is a good thing, because the very process involved understanding and informed choice. There are elaborate versions and bland : on balance Cooke 3 perhaps works best because it's sensitive to the idiom without attaching too much. I have a weakness for the Joe Wheeler version which is the most spartan of all, particularly as both performances I've heard are awful. But what would the Tenth be without Alma?
PLEASE see the other posts on Mahler 10 here (two on Chailly, two on Harding)) ! and also on other Mahler works/I'm "downloading" a lifdetime of listening.

Mahler 10 Chailly Leipzig Gewandhaus Prom 69 Mendelssohn

The performing version of Mahler's Tenth Symphony is intriguing precisely because it's unfinished. Since no-one will ever know for sure what the composer intended, an air of open-endedness hovers over it, opening possibilties in the imagination. So performances need to be created with insight into Mahler's musical processes. It means informed guesswork, so it's not a symphony for beginners. But Riccardo Chailly and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra gave an astounding account at this Prom, which revealed how great the symphony's potential might have been.

Like so much of Mahler's work, the symphony involves memory, echoes of symphonies past and what they might symbolize. Two main themes circle round each other in the Adagio, one delicate, the other warmer, probing each other tentatively. Chailly doesn't dwell on nostalgia, because that can throw the rest of the piece off balance. Stand alone Adagios don't have such considerations. Sharp string figures emerge like sudden chills. The first violin persists in playing a melody, overtaken by the sudden bursts of brass, the "scream" chords. Again, Chailly stresses how they may mean more than one thing : here they came over as sudden flashes of shocking illumination. Evidently he knows the biography.

The first Scherzo mocks the delicacy of the Adagio. Swaggering grotesques, flattened horns, shrill trumpets, echoing the marches of death and disorder in earlier symphonies. The Leipzigers are far too good an orchestra to simply do crude. This orchestra's famous warm tones are put to good effect making the brutality almost hypnotically seductive. The jagged angular rhythms at last expend their energy in the crisp, unambiguous ending.

For me, the Purgatorio echoes the Wunderhorn song Das irdisches Leben : a small, plaintive cry amid larger, more dominant forces, hemmed in as it is by the two dominant Scherzi. Whatever it means, it's a bridge towards the Allegro Pesante, a stage in the passage of ideas. On the first page of this movement, Mahler pencilled the words "The Devil is dancing it with me! Madness, seize me … destroy me! Let me forget that I exist, so that I cease to be.” But a careful observer will note that Mahler then adds “dass ich ver ….” (so that I ….) and trails off without completing the idea. It’s a proposition, but this whole work is a kind of proposition.

Although this movement still feels incomplete despite years of careful adjustment by Coooke, Goldschmidt and the Matthews brothers, it's not a fault, as Chailly and the Leipzigers demonstrate. Individual instruments have their moment, without undue ornamentation. For me it felt like the spirit of the Purgatorio popping up uncowed. Playing as beautiful and as confident as this makes you appreciate how pure and clean Mahler's idiom can be, a departure from the overripe excess of so much music in his time. Chailly and his musicians make this second Scherzo feel shockingly spare and elevated.

Again, this is perceptive because at this point, Mahler was on the verge of new phases in his life. The fourth volume of Professor Henry-Louis de La Grange's monumental biography is titled "A New Life Cut Short" and is essential. Read about it HERE. What do Mahler's enigmatic markings on the score refer to? The Tenth is a guessing game, but fascinating for that very reason.

Alma described the image of the fireman's funeral in the Finale, but what did it mean to the composer on a deeper, non-literal level? Mahler didn't know the dead man personally, so there is an air of detachment, not overt emotionalism. This burial is symbolic not specific. The drumbeats are emphatic. Whatever Mahler is burying, he's moving away from it. Out of the numbness rises a new theme, led by woodwinds, rising elusively upwards. Again, the idea of fragility in the Purgatorio returns, but this time the theme grows stronger and fuller, as it's taken up by bassoons and darker brass. Even the drumstrokes become sharp rather than muffled. The new theme becomes more lyrical. Then long strident brass chords herald another new stage. Yet again, diaphanously transparent textures. The Leipzig string players are a wonder, their bowing so carefully sustained that sounds seem to glow with warmth and light.

Chailly and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra are a marriage made in heaven, so it's specially good to hear them in this symphony. Chailly's gift for Mahler didn't reach fulfilment in his years in Amsterdam, perhaps because they had the Haitink tradition firmly instilled in them. But even then Chailly impressed.

Ten years ago I heard him conduct Mahler 10 with the Royal Concertgebouw, as part of a series of Mahler performances. Earlier, Matthias Goerne had sung the Ruckert Lieder. Usually singers got home after their stint. Instead, just before the beginning of the symphony, when the lights went down, a figure slipped unobtrusively into an empty seat in a corner: Matthias Goerne in street clothes. He sat completely engrossed in the music, listening intently, his body crunched forward. Not many singers immerse themselves in a composer's non-song output, but he does, which is why his performances are so musically informed. Performing Mahler isn't a matter of learning the notes. It's a vocation.

I loved the Mendelssohn Piano Concerto too : Saleem Abboud Ashkar is wonderful, and of course no orchestra plays Mendelssohn like the Leipzig Gewandhaus. But enough from me now.
Later I'll be writing more about Chailly's Mahler and why his approach to this performance works for me. Read HERE The photo above is GM and Alma walking in the mountains above Toblach.