Showing posts with label Mahler 3. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mahler 3. Show all posts

Monday, 28 January 2019

Luminous Mahler Symphony no 3 : François-Xavier Roth, Gürzenich-Orchester Köln

Gustav Mahler Symphony no 3 with François-Xavier Roth and the Gürzenich-Orchester Köln, now at last on CD, released by Harmonia Mundi, after the highly acclaimed live performance streamed a few months ago. The Gürzenich Orchestra gave the world premiere of this symphony in Cologne on 9th June 1902, conducted by Mahler himself, who also conducted the premiere of his Fifth Symphony with the orchestra, in October 1904.  Though its personnel have changed, the repertoire remains close to the orchestra's core. François-Xavier Roth follows in the footsteps of Michael Gielen, who conducted the Gürzenich Orchestra and conducted Mahler with the innovative SWR Sinfonieorchester Baden-Baden und Freiburg, where Roth was the final Chief Conductor.

The lucidity of this performance should come as no surprise, especially to those who have been following Roth and the Gürzenich-Orchester Köln over the last few years, and not just in Mahler, though their recording of Mahler's Symphony no 5  is highly recommended.  The first movement of Mahler's Symphony no 3 is huge, almost a symphony in itself.   Roth grasps its internal structure, bringing out its formidable architecture. The opening theme is strongly shaped, creating the pattern of "peaks" (trumpets and trombones) and "valleys" which are very well defined, muffled trumpets and solo trumpet calling out into the distance, the strings and winds adding sweetness.  Roth emphasises the pattern with very quiet, muffled percussion, before the next sequence, where the trombones call, heralding the way ahead. This deliberation respects the marking "Kräftig. Entschieden" but also contributes to the interpretation of the symphony as a whole. From steady discipline, the symphony progresses : the apotheosis at its conclusion is reached only by a process, which includes struggle as well as moments of loveliness.  As if the goal were in sight, the pace speeds up towards the end of the first movement : turbulent excitement, hurtling forwards, winds, trumpets and trombones leading into the next phase,buoyed up   by cheerful, almost swaggering woodwinds.  If Mahler's entire output can be heard as one great symphony, its basic ideas repeated and developed, the first movement of  the Third Symphony is a microcosm in itself.  Mahler's original title for this movement was "Pan Awakes, Summer Marches In". Even without the label, it's clear from this performasnce what he meant : vigour and freshness.

The second part of Mahler's Symphony no 3 begins with a movement "tempo di minuetto", a dance between two partners, extending the pattern in the first movement, but also evoking the idea of dialogue that rises so often in Mahler, even up to the Adagio from what would have been his Tenth Symphony.  The dance element brings out the best in Roth, given his background in French repertoire, so strongly influenced by the patterns of dance and precision.  Elegance does count in Mahler and highlights the subtlety in his orchestration.  This pays off too in the third movement, where details like the quote from the Wunderhorn song Ablösung im Sommer ("Kuckuck ist tod!") aren't there simply for decoration.  In the song, summer is not over, though the cuckoo is dead, since the Nightingale takes over and "singt und springt, ist allzeit froh, Wenn andre Vögel schweigen".  As in so much of Mahler's work, death is not an end but a stage in a process, where death is defeated by new forms of life.  Thus the flutes and piccolos, giving context  to the posthorn. This is heard from offstage, invisible but powerful.  Does it suggest distance, or memory or future hope ?  The "kuckkuck ist tod"  figure returns, cheekily and leads the orchestra into another dance, whipped almost into frenzy, before the posthorn calls again, and the pace descends, like twilight into night.   Yet again, the resurgent pattern returns, with a finale of energetic affirmation, not defeat.

From brooding near silence (basses and celli), Sara Mingado, the alto, emerges, singing a text from Nietzsche's Also sprach Zarathustra: "O Mensch! Gib Acht!", her voice illuminated by motifs on violin and clarinet, which here sound non-western, which is quite approrpiate : this is no mainstream "Christian" symphony.  Something is gestating.  The misterioso of the fourth movement gives way to the joyous fifth movement, significantly scored for youthful, fresh-sounding voices. Mingardo is now haloed by the Women's choir of Schola Heidelberg and the youth choir of the Kölner Dom. The words "Bimm bamm" supposedly evoke the sound of bells marking celebration.

The forward thrust of the journey in the first movement is now drawing to resolution.  In the final movement, marked "Ruhevoll", lines stretch, as if reaching into distance: strings now dominant, winds adding depth, brass responding.  Exquisite playing from the Gürzenich-Orchester Köln : the refinement feeling almost luminous.  Here, too, the structure involves a series of stages, observed more carefully by Roth than by conductors who push too much towards the ending.  As in the first movement, purposeful progression matters, for the reward is worth the journey.  The tuba announces one transition, a flute another.  Very natural-sounding trumpets recall the Alpine landscape aspects of the symphony,  bringing echoes of past memories - and of the posthorn - together with hopes for the future.  Unity at last, the different sections of the orchestra in concert (literally) with each other.   Thus the deep feeling that grows ever more secure as the movement proceeds, culminating in the coda where the timpani pound, not so much MGM glitz but with the depth and conviction of a strong heartbeat.

Monday, 3 September 2018

Andris Nelsons Mahler 3 Boston Symphony Orchestra Prom London


With Prom 67, Andris Nelsons returned to the Royal Albert Hall, London with part of his old band, the CBSO Chorus and CBSO Youth Chorus, and  his current band, the Boston Symphony Orchestra, in a superb performance of Mahler Symphony no 3 in D minorLike all organizations whose strength is the people within, orchestras need motivation and leadership.  The BSO sounds transformed since their last visit to London in 2015 (please read more here), and infinitely more alive than their previous visit eleven years ago. The brass and celli in particular sound rejuvenated.   Warming up for this Prom, I'd been listening to the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra where Nelsons is now Chief Conductor, marvelling how the brass there sounds golden and resonant, rarely "brassy".  There's a lot of brass in Mahler 3 but it's not a symphony where brassiness or flash exists for its own sake. Nelsons understood why the brass sections matter and how they contribute to the whole symphony in context.  In any case, bringing some of the Leipzig glow to any other orchestra is quite an achievement.

This was an excellent Mahler 3 because it was sensitive, respecting the subtitles which Mahler used as a kind of scaffolding as he built the symphony.  Notice those titles : "What the Flowers in the Meadow tell me", "What the Animals in the Forest tell me" and "What the Angels tell me". Flowers, animals and angels can't speak:  you have to listen on a much deeper level to understand.  Thus Mahler withdrew the "scaffolding" so audiences would have to pay proper attention.  In a world where muzak values are replacing music values, this is even more pertinent.

The first movement in itself is as long as some entire symphonies, but Nelsons understands the inner structure, which progresses in peaks and planes. Again and again, trumpets lead forward, percussion marking emphatic endings, yet the second theme emerged quietly, heralded by muffled timpani.  Very airy-sounding violin and woodwind figures lit the way for the return of the "march" theme, where trombones added darker colours.  Yet quieter details mattered, like the hushed diminuendo before the whirlwind of woodwinds,  livening the brisk marching pace.  Now,  sassy, sweeping brass made joyous entry.  "Pan awakes", revealing vast panoramas full of promise. The horn call, though, was more restrained, appropriately, for in the mountains, horns are designed to reach over long distances. Thus the solo violin, gentle pizzicato, and harps suggesting perhaps the human world beneath the horizon.  A well shaped "wild descent", and a moment to reflect before the next "peak"  where percussion and brass interacted : a march though not a funeral march other than in the sense of marking the end of the first stage in this journey.   Thus the muted "marching" celli and strings, and the expansive flourish that followed. 

After this invigorating first movement, the sweetness and delicacy of the second made complete sense.  Again and again in Mahler images of meadows in summer recur as symbols of happiness, won after struggle or remembered during struggle. Mahler was a man who hiked and biked and knew the rhythms.  A nice perky start to the third movement, the woodwinds imitating birdsong, a direct quote from the Wunderhorn song Ablösung im Sommer ("Kuckuck ist tod!") . The posthorn, heard from afar, might evoke many things, such as distance, or the inevitable change of time.  Yet no lingering, Nelsons keeping the pace exuberant, so the return of the distant posthorn felt  suitably poignant, the orchestra an afterglow before the finale, where the brass led a hurtling climax.

This set the mood for the mysterioso movement.  "O Mensch, gibt ach !" sang Susan Graham.  "What Man tells me", might be an eternal cycle of suffering and rebirth. "Tiefe, tiefe Ewigkeit!".  Graham's timbre is lighter than many others, some of whom bring out the Herculean Earth Mother depth in the song, but this works well with this more lively interpretation of the symphony, introducing the glorious highlight of the fifth movement.  Excellent interplay between the voices of the City of Birmingham Symphony Chorus and Youth Chorus, and Miss Graham, which reflects to some extent the interplay between brass and percussion in the first movement.  The Youth Chorus’s voices were exceptionally fresh, the bimm bamm's ringing with angelic purity.

Whatever the final movement may signify, its long lines stretch into the distance : the strings and brass doing what the post horn did earlier but now present directly within the orchestra.  The jaunty march at the beginning of the symphony gives way to what might seem serenity, but may be  more complex.  Again the brass lead the orchestra into crescendo, suggesting that the march remains, operating as a pulse behind the swathes of orchestral colour.   The brass again called forth, percussion crashing : a wonderful moment of near silence from which the solo voice of the violin sang clean and clear.  The finale an anthem of confidence, repeating like the march that went before, and ending with emphatic timpani-led tutti.

And here is the finest review I've read anywhere in years ! Marc Bridle, the best in the business ! Please follow THIS LINK

Wednesday, 28 February 2018

Worth the wait ! Thielemann Mahler 3, Dresden Staatskapelle

Thielemann, Garanca, Dresden Staatskapelle, photo : Matthias Creutziger, Dresdner Neueste Nachtrichten
Christian Thielemann conducted Mahler Symphony no 3 with the Sächsische Staatskapelle Dresden, broadcast on MDR.de last night.  He hasn't conducted much Mahler in the past, so this was a big event.  Thielemann is one of the great conductors of core Austro-German repertoire, a specialist in Wagner, Strauss, Bruckner and more, so any perspective he might have on Mahler would be significant.  In many ways, it is a point in his favour that he has not rushed to conduct Mahler because everyone else seems to do so, whether they have anything to say, or not.  A while back, Haitink was attacked for not conducting Shostakovich.  If only more conductors had that kind of integrity. We all do some things better than others, so why shouldn't conductors do what they believe in, as opposed to pandering to market forces.  So I listened last night to Thielemann on NDR, not knowing what to think. A few minutes in, I realized that this was no routine performance. Thielemann really does have insights.  So I came briefly "up for air" before plunging in to listen as intensively as possible.  I hope NDR has archived this,m since it is a performance definitely worth further listening.

First, let's consider what Thielemann has actually said about Mahler.  Significantly, this quote was made during the Mahler anniversary year in 2010, when  there was so much hype - often uninformed - that it's hardly surprising that someone should steer well clear on jumping on the celebrity bandwagon.   "Mahler’s music lends itself most to those conductors” Thielemann reflects, “who know how to hold back, who are good at understatement. That doesn’t exactly accommodate my conducting style; I’ve not been terribly successful at that yet. The music of Mahler is already so full of effects, if you are tempted to add anything, you only make it worse. I admire those conductors who achieve that certain noblesse—which is what I desire to achieve, eventually. Not always to enhance something. I’m currently trying to wean myself off that in Strauss, actually…” Thielemann thus continues a solid three minutes on his fallibility as a conductor in Mahler, about trying to break habits and improving—a touching, beautifully honest moment. (source HERE) 

Thielemann's actual words suggest that, far from being anti-Mahler, he had a far more accurate understanding of the composer than most. "Understatement" and "noblesse", as opposed to the kind of overwrought over-excess that became fashionable in the 60's and 70's, and has ever since dominated the way some audiences expect to hear Mahler. "Neurotic Mahler", shaped in part by Bernstein, Karajan and Ken Russell movies is valid in itself, but it is certainly not the only way to approach the composer.   It's an audience thing.  Conductors in the past, most of whom knew the background from which Mahler came, didn't subscribe to this image.  Nowadays, thanks to the research of Professor Henry-Louis de La Grange, we know much more about Mahler's personality and creative processes, which has an impact on performance practice.  "Understatement" and "noblesse" are a whole lot closer to Mahler than the self-indulgent image created in the 60's.  If only audiences could learn to hear Mahler from these perspectives ! There is a whole lot more to Mahler than wham and bang.

Thielemann observed the subtle progressions that give the long first movement structure, and form the bedrock of the whole symphony.  This movement does evolve like a panorama, each vista yielding to another, peak after peak on a vast horizon.  Anyone's who has ever hiked and biked in the mountains as Mahler did will comprehend the sense of progression, and also the open-air expansiveness that Thielemann brought to it : the sense of freedom and endless possibilities, a purer, more rarified atmosphere, unpolluted by venal concerns.  Strauss' Alpensinfonie, completed 18 years after Mahler 3 has that sense of adventure, but not quite the almost Brucknerian spirituality which Thielemann finds in Mahler. The previous evening I'd been watching Arnold Fanck's Der heilige Berg (1926) which merges Bergfilm with esoteric mysticism. The skiers achieve great feats on the snow, while the dancer Diotima (the Eternal Feminine) represents artistic ideals.

The Dresden Staatskapelle is a superlative ensemble, sleek and wonderfully agile. Beautifully judged details, well integated into the whole so the flow felt natural and organic. Big blocks of sound we can hear anytime, but less often this poetic sensibility.  It's more difficult to achieve this kind of genuine purity than to blast away.  A very authentic post horn, like you hear in the mountains.  Geuine warmth, too, the music moving as though propelled by summer breezes.  Thus the Pan Erwacht moments, when Spring rushes in, bringing change and revitalization, even the hint of wacky, Pan-like disorder.  Thielemann brought out the contrast in moods from the elegance of the minueto to the vigour of the scherzo, reinforcing the sense of flow. 

 Elīna Garanča's voice is a little light for the "O Mensch" gravitas, but her singing was moving, nonetheless and fitted well with the Dresdner style.  I had been listening, eyes closed, when the Children's Choir of the Semperoper Dresden began to sing, and suddenly my screen burst into light and shook me - an uncanny but very appropriate moment ! And perhaps most impressive of all, the final movement, which had grandeur and transcendence. Definitely an intelligent and well-thought-through approach to this symphony, and to Mahler.  Although we only heard Mahler 3, this performance connected to the deeper ideas in Mahler 2 and 4, and even to Mahler 9 : nature, and triumph, through creativity over struggle.

Monday, 2 October 2017

Majestic Mahler 3 Salonen Philharmonia Royal Festival Hall


The Third Coming ! Esa-Pekka Salonen conducted Mahler Symphony no 3 with the Philharmonia at the Royal Festival Hall with Michelle DeYoung, the Philharmonia Voices and the Tiffin Boys’ Choir.  It was live streamed worldwide, an indication of just how important this concert was, for it marks the Philharmonia's 34-year relationship with Salonen.  I  missed the first concert in 1983 when a very young Salonen substituted at a few days’ notice. The score was new to him, but he learned fast, easrning the respect of the orchestra. In 2007, he conducted Mahler 3 again to mark the re-opening of the Royal Festival Hall and its then new season (see here). Shortly afterwards, I was at an airport with members of the orchestra, saying how much they enjoyed working with Salonen, though they didn't realize civilians were listening.  Orchestras are often a hard-bitten bunch, so that was praise indeed.

So I booked Salonen's third high profile M3 with the Philharmonia months in advance. (it goes without saying that these weren't the only M3's)  No regrets, even though it made a long commute on a sunny Sunday afternoon.  The atmosphere in the hall was mellow..  Sitting beside me was a gentleman of 90 who was a junior engineer working on the building of the Royal Festival Hall, nearly 70 years ago.  His eyes were shining, as he described the engineering innovations that went into the structure. State of the art, for the time. I didn't understand the technicalities, but what an honour it was to meet someone as enthusiastic as that.

A majestic introduction, establishing the key motives with intense impact. The horns blazed, timpani rolled, the trombones blasted, evoking the majesty of the mountains,  evoking the metaphysical mountain peaks to come.  Thus the power of Nature, or whatever, versus the individual, in the form of the orchestral leader Zsolt-Tihamér Visontay.  No messing about : Salonen led straight into the fray, rapid marching "footsteps" lit by bright figures in the smaller winds : the idea of setting forth on a brisk spring journey.  Danger lies ahead though, as the sharp attacks on percussion suggest, but the vigour of the ensemble playing suggested vigour and energy. And so the vast panorama opened up before our ears, the long lines in the horns suggesting distance. When the principal trombone, Byron Fulcher, entered, he made his instrument sound like a highly sophisticated Alpenhorn.  The first movement is long and in some hands it can turn to mush, but Salonen observed the structure carefully, so each transit marked a stage in the journey, moving purposefully forward.  Wonderful rushing "descents" the way you feel leaping downhill after scaling a peak.  Peak after peak, vistas stretching endlessly ahead.  This first movement is a work-out. At the end, Salonen drank what seemed to be a whole bottle of water.

The next two movements aren't a respite, but rather a way of looking at other vistas, perhaps from the past.  Memories of sun-drenched meadows and shepherds’ flutes perhaps, but still the pace is fleet. Exquisite playing, so beautiful that it felt painful to know it couldn't possibly last forever, probably the point Mahler was trying to make. A delightfully sassy Comodo, confident and brisk, like a cheeky Ländler becoming a joyful romp.  Pan rushes in, with merry anarchy. But why does Mahler add the posthorn call, deliberately heard from a distance ?  I love this passage because it makes you think.  The panorama here is something so vast, it's beyond earthly vision.

Michelle DeYoung, as magnificent as the mountains. Her voice was rich and moving, but visually. she embodies the majesty in the fourth movement. This does make a difference, because she's singing about Eternity, not merely the experience of man, and it helps when a singer can fill the auditorium with her presence. "Die Welt ist tief, und tiefer als der Tag gedacht".  Earth Mother here is absolutely of the essence.  Another moment which I wanted never to end.  This symphony is a rollercoaster between beauty and loss, despite its overall positive thrust.  Thus the juxtaposition of the eternal Erda and the fresh, young voices of the Tiffin Boys’ Choir an d the women of the Philharmonia Voices  - past and future,  struggle and rebirth.  Mahler's Fourth already looming into focus.  Or Das Lied von der Erde, for that matter.

A lustrous, shimmering final movement, the Philharmonia strings drawing their lines so they seemed to search out beyond earthly horizons.  Yet note the quiet tolling, as if a bell were being rung, marking the passage of time. Excellent balance between the different string sections, creating a rich mass of sound that seemed to vibrate like the very pulse of life.  Perhaps now the "individual" has reached a place beyond human comprehension. The violin soared, pure and clear, soloist leading the ensemble  still further onwards.  A hint of the "Alpine" melody and then crescendo after crescendo, echoing the structure of the First movement.  At the end, the purity of the flute, quiet pizzicato "footsteps" and the return of the trumpet, horn and trombone themes.  Structure matters so much in the interpretation of this symphony and Salonen has its measure.  MGM last moments, but in a good, spiritually rewarding way. 

Wednesday, 3 August 2016

Sublime, spiritual Haitink Mahler 3 Prom


Bernard Haitink conducted Mahler Symphony no 3  with the London Symphony Orchestra at BBC Prom 18 on Friday, available audio  and video on BBC4 TV.  I couldn't be present live since I was at Gloucester for the Three Choirs Festival Mahler Symphony no 8 (read my review here)  Repeat broadcasts are a boon especially with Haitink because he doesn't do "instant gratification" but rewards thoughtful concentration.  In a career spanning over 60 years, Haitink has probably conducted more  Mahler than anyone else, and with orchestras that have long Mahler credentials, like the Royal Concertgebouw Amsterdam, which Mahler himself listened to when Willem Mengelberg conducted, over 100 years ago.  Haitink has authority: in London, we've been lucky enough to hear him conduct several times a year, with the LSO and with the Royal Opera House – so often indeed that he feels like part of the family.  Yet even though he's conducted so much over so many years, he nearly always finds something new to say. Never take Haitink for granted! His Mahler carries authority.

Mahler's Symphony no 3 unfolds like a spiritual journey across a vast terrain. A friend perceptively observed that this performance was "not a young man's Mahler" but something much more unusual – a wise, mature traversal born of a lifetime's engagement with Mahler and his music on a very deep level.  It carried authority.  The LSO horns called out, projecting into the vast expanses of the Royal Albert Hall. I thought about the Salzkammergut, and the mountains of the hoher Dachstein range which tower about the Attersee, on whose shores Mahler spent summers, working in a "composing hut" by the edge of the water. Scale counts, but it's not the size of the orchestra that counts, nor the length of the symphony that matters, but context, the bigness of vision.

What matters is the way Mahler evokes  the power of Nature through powerful blocks of sound, which rise like mountains, drawing the listener ever upwards.  Haitink understands the "hiking pulse" in the steady pace which suggests purposeful footsteps and strength. No neurasthenic neurosis! Mahler was a hiker and mountain biker, who understood the physical discipline involved. Just as you can't do mountains ill prepared, you can't do music without first mastering the basic discipline of respecting the score and its execution.  Thus the firmness of Haitink's conducting, honed by experience. The snare drums rattle and the brass breaks free, but notice the taut control and the quiet rumble of concentration: greater peaks lie ahead. The trombones evoke mountain horns, whose sound is meant to carry across vast distances in space.  The "hiking pulse" in the violins sets the tone for the expansive exuberance to come. The moments of warmth  were particularly moving: as if  Haitink was reflecting on happy times. Yet this was much more than a sunny, open-air interpretation. We can't stop in the "meadow" with the flowers, however sweet they might be.  Lovely dialogue here between then "earthly" instruments and the "celestial" off-stage flugelhorn.  Pan rushed in with anarchic vigour.

Sarah Connolly sang the haunting "O Mensch". Take heed, for the woodwinds curl and twist around the voice evoking the images of death, pain and night in the text. But the solo violin enters, connecting to the fifth movement where the women of the London Symphony Chorus and the Tiffin Boys Choir sing of angels and of celestial bliss. For all the "Nature" elements in this symphony, for Mahler, the spiritual is never far away.  The Finale was proof of Haitink's concept - emotions as deep and as complex as this can't be expressed with surface bluster. Haitink's wise, calm confidence is powerful because it is sincere: it's grown almost organically from a lifetime of experience. When the timpani boom and the strings shine, we have reached a destination beyond mortal ken.

Sunday, 5 June 2016

Majestic Mahler 3 Mikko Franck St Denis


Mikko Franck conducted Mahler Symphony no 3 with the Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France last week in a striking performance which filled the basilica of Saint-Denis "de toute sa majesté." (video here)  A majestic performance to match majestic surroundings, even if the fixed camera positions don't do the film justice. (audio only here). This is a superb performance: someone I know was actually present at Saint-Denis, and even more enthusiastic !

A magnificent reading, where the craggy "peaks" in the landscape loom darkly over sunlit meadows. Both aspects of the symphony are fundamental to meaning. I've listened to this so many times over the past week that I'm too exhausted to write as much as I usually would   A bit stunned, too. From the get go, Franck's approach is masterful. He knows what the OPRF can do, and pushes them. The intensity of the first theme feels dangerous, not violent but uncompromising. When the next theme enters, the pizzicato dances brightly : sparkling sunshine ?  moments of happiness ? Franck doesn't linger, pushing ever forwards, so the expansive figures which follow seem exuberant.  Mahler's music is striding forward as the composer himself did in the mountains of the Salzkammergut. Hence the gloriously open vistas, the horn and trumpet calls. Then, suddenly dark moments return and the horn calls more poignant, the violin melody delicate. But flurries on winds and strings whip along, as energetic as mountain breezes.

"Pan erwacht: Der Sommer marschein ein" This long first movement can baffle, but Franck observes its structure, intensifying the sense of forward thrust. There are marches, here, yes,  and part way the orchestra breaks into a wild gallop.  But these aren't "military" marches even when the drums roll. The brass theme returns again, triumphant : Pan was the God of Nature, of music and significantly of disarray.  But it would be amiss to approach this symphony in sloppy disarray.  This orchestra is so good that Franck's tight discipline spurs them on.  Another visual metaphor : the energy of many stallions coming purposefully together.  Us modern, urban folks don't remember why "horsepower" is a measure of an engine's power.  Listen for that cracking ending !

The second movement here is purposeful too.  No lazing in the sunshine here.  Listen to the sharp,  crackling percussion chasing the orchestra on, and later the woodwinds.  Franck gets good interplay between nostalgia and excitement : one without the other wouldn't be quite so piquant.  The violin melody is exquisite. Yet immediately the mood is cut by Dionysian swagger. Summer rushes forth with unstoppable vigour - listen to the brass repeat the birdsong, but with sass and rude health. Kukuk ist tod, kukuk ist  tod - but not for the moment!  Summer is short in the mountains, as the lingering call of the distant brass reminds us. But while it's here it's glorious. Thus the posthorn call, heard from a distance, as if it remains suspended in time. The world may change, but somehow the posthorn is eternal.

Mihoko Fujimura has been singing Mahler for years. Here, she's magnificent : elegant yet austere and dignified.   Voice and violin dialogue : the rest of the orchestra seems stilled, listening in rapt concentration. For all the abundant life in the orchestra up to this point, we're hit hard by the inescapble fact : things come to an end.  We're not left there long, though, as the Choir of Radio France sparks into action.  Bimm, Bamm, Bimm bamm. Notice the regular rhythm, her "march of life quietly resurgant.  Another ;long, poignant look backwards.  Wonderful violins, their soaring tessitura suggesting upwards movement.   Perhaps in Mahler's time, orchestras weren't so technically proficient but that's no excuse.   Mahler's music is so beautiful, so wonderful that it really needs performers who can access levels the composer might have dreamed of.  +As the symphony moves into its last, all-important themes, refinement is of the essence. We are no longer in the mountains, even as metaphor, but in an altogether more elevated,  spiritual plane.  Magnificntly assured playing. Now the "march" is beaten out firmly on timpani, with quiet confidence that doesn't need overstatement.




Friday, 12 September 2014

Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra Mahler 3 BBC Proms London


(For my review of the gorgeous Leipzig Gewandhaus Beethoven 9 Prom  Gilbert redeemed please see here).  Because Riccardo Chailly was scheduled to conduct the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra in Mahler's Symphony no 3 at the BBC Proms, (Prom 73), tickets sold out within hours. All my friend could get were pricey seats in a box in the Grand Tier. The Leipzigers and Chailly are so good and their Mahler so distinctive that the cost seemed a good investment.  The acoustic in the Grand Tier really is good, though you can hear every cough and dropped booklet resonate around the building. Perhaps that's why I didn't feel entirely bad about Alan Gilbert replacing Chailly at short notice (Chailly broke his forearm). The sound quality meant that details were finely formed, and the very quietness in some passages indicated thoughtful engagement with some of the ideas in the symphony.

Like Mahler's First and Mahler's Seventh, the Third can take a variety of interpretations, from the black, haunted humour of Horenstein,  to the blazing sunshine of Abbado, to the vigorous mountaineering of Rattle, and the exceptionally poignant Welser-Möst at the Proms in 2005.  I also have a soft spot for Eugen Szenkar's  recording, made soon after the war with musicians who hadn't been able to play Mahler for 20 years. If you want a Mahler as street fighting man, that's worth hearing (and quite valid since Mahler's politics were leftist). My gut instinct is that Gilbert has something interesting to say, but perhaps not on this occasion and not with the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra. That's much more than can be said of some other conductors.

"Pan erwacht: Der Sommer marschein ein", Mahler described the huge first movement in his original drafts. Pan, the god of wild open spaces, mountains., music and sexual danger. Perhaps the "marches" here aren't literal, pastoral rather than urban or  military, but what matters is the progression of ideas giving rise to a relentless series of forwards movements.  Mahler worked on this symphony in the Salzkammergut, where valleys and lakes are hemmed in, almost claustrophobically, by huge mountain ranges. Mahler, a keen hiker (and rider of early mountain bikes)  would have understood mountains as challenges to be conquered in the brief Alpine summer. The First Movement can be read as a panorama of peaks, each opening out to new vistas, pushing towards a resolution that might ultimately be spiritual transcendance. Thus the "panpipes" in the horns and the winds, and the significance of off-stage brass: something invisible is pulling the symphony, and the listener ever higher and further away from an earthly plane.

When Chailly conducted the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra the fit wasn't quite so good, because the Amsterdam orchestra had its own great Mahler tradition. But when Chailly moved to Leipzig, to conduct the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra, with even older traditions (though not in Mahler),  the magic worked perfectly right from the start, vindicating Donald Mitchell's high praise for him. The Leipzigers are famed for their warm, golden sound, which fits perfectly with Chailly's strengths. I hate using national labels but they might explain why the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra and Alan Gilbert don't have quite the same chemistry. Throughout the First movement of this Prom, it felt as though the Leipzigers had their own approach to Mahler (nurtured by Chailly) while Gilbert is an American conductor.

The all-important brass entries seemed odd, as if the players were following some instinctive volition, rather than following Gilbert. His signals were pretty straightforward, but these players are so good they can almost conduct themselves. Gilbert didn't define the "marches" or the mountains" quite as monumentally as they can be done. Rather, he stressed the quieter passages, as if creating an aubade of aural texture. This is perfectly valid for it connects to the idea of dawn and regrowth : the hunter dies, but the animals go on. Gilbert's attention to detail brought out the bird song and hushed, chirping sounds in the undergrowth. Those kukkuks, the flute melodies,  the hushed murmuring strings  and hints of Mahler song: very Des Knaben Wunderhorn. I kept thinking of Messiaen. The formative years of Gilbert's career were spent in Lyons, where Nagano laid the foundations of another distinctive European tradition. But Gilbert works in New York, where he has to blend in with expectations there.  So Gilbert falls between different stools, so to speak. But he's much more interesting than many other conductors. I suspect, one day, he'll find his niche and get the respect he's due.

Gerhild Romberger
As the performance continued, the match between conductor and orchestra tightened. There were many very good moments , especially in the Misterioso, and the final section blazed with warmth and a sense of fulfilment. The Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra is so wonderful that just letting them get on with what they're good at would have worked better in a high-profile gig like the Proms. But full credit to Gilbert for trying to do his own thing, Maybe he will, soon, and shake up an orchestra without the sumptuous stature of the Leipzigers.

The most perfect part of the evening for me was the singing. It usually is, but this singing was wondrous. Gerhild Romberger was superb: not flashy, but self effacing and all the more convincing for that. She let the rich resonance of her voice command attention, and it filled the vast barn that is the Royal Albert Hall. Her "O Mensch" felt truly plaintive, as if she were weeping for the death of the old world and giving birth to the new. The eerie woodwind twining around her voice sounded like an instrument from the ancient past.  The Leipzig Opera and Gewandhaus Choir (women's voices) and Leipzig Gewandhaus Children's Choir (delightful Bim-bams) provided support almost as lustrous as the great orchestra they work with so well.

NEW DELIGHTED to report that Beethoven Symphony no 9 went extremely well!  I've heard Chailly conduct Beethoven 9 with this orchestra twice live. Brilliant! Alan Gilbert isn't Chailly but he's vindicated. Excellent sense of build-up in the first movement, pinpointing details which will emerge later in the symphony. How do the double basses play as quietly as that?   A freer and more sponatneous performance altogether - Gilbert and the Leipzigers meshing together well.  Orchestras at this level know what they are doing when they choose a conductor. Dimitry Belosselskiy magisterial in the bass part. Steve Davislim astounding - he can string phrases out without seeming to need space to breathe.  As he sang, I noticed how the jauntiness of his part was matched by the jauntiness in the music around him. The "Turkish" pipes and drums, perhaps? If I have time I'll write more.

Wednesday, 16 April 2014

Lucerne Abbado Memorial - COMPLETE FREE online


How often do you see the members of an orchestra weep openly? The Lucerne Festival Orchestra's memorial  for Claudio Abbado  on 7th April is now available complete and free on arte.tv. This is infinitely more than an ordinary concert.  What makes it unique - and compelling - isn't "just" the music. Every player here knew Claudio Abbado personally and worked with him. Everyone in the audience had memories, too. There are people who think music should be judged purely in musical terms. This concert proves that without the human spirit, notes alone are meaningless. Without vision, without endeavour, without feeling, we are nothing. Claudio Abbado taught us a lot technically about the music he conducted, but even more so, I think, about being human.

The programme: Franz Schubert (1797-1828) «Allegro moderato» de la Symphonie n° 7 en si mineur D 759 Inachevée, Friedrich Hölderlin (1770-1843) Elegie Brot und Wein (Pain et Vin), Alban Berg (1885-1935), Concerto pour violon et orchestre A la mémoire d’un ange, Gustav Mahler (1860-1911), Finale de la Symphonie n° 3 en ré mineur.  Each piece chosen because they were closely associated with the conductor, but also because each touches upon some aspect of the human condition.  They also reference the idea of artists being taken before their time. Not death so much as the loss of what might have been. Thank whatever power gave us Abbado's finest years, after his near fatal cancer. "Half the stomach, twice the soul" someone once quipped

Significantly, the concert formally ends with the Finale of Mahler's Symphony no 3, soaring ever upwards, higher and higher until the very sounds dissolve into infinity. The Lucerne Festival Orchestra might have picked the Finale of Mahler 6th or Mahler 9th but the Finale of Mahler's 3rd is perhaps right in context: the Alps around Lucerne, but even more what mountains symbolize. Mountains endure, when mortals pass on. Most of us never reach the pinnacle, but we're lost if we don't dream.

 Here  is the text of the Hölderlin Elegy. Again a brilliant choice. The poet famously lived in a tower, contemplating the moon.  His work became hugely influential on 20th century composers, long after his death.  Why poems in a concert, and horror of horrors not in English, as some would say.  To paraphrase Mahler, speaking of the young know-it-alls of his time, "Have they read Dostoevsky"
 
Listen to the concert - not just to the sounds the orchestra is playing, but also to what might be happening in your heart. That, I think, is the real gift of musicianship, and Claudio Abbado's enduring legacy. There are many different ways to show emotion. The members of the Lucerne Festival Orchestra are not afraid to hide their feelings. Even the concert master gives in to his. I've watched this several times over, thoroughly gutted.

Thursday, 4 October 2012

Music in Palestine, Musical Times 1939

From my friend Mischa Horenstein : Please go to his facebook page on Mahler where there's an erudite discussion going on

Music in Palestine
The Musical Times, Vol. 80, No. 1153 (Mar., 1939), p. 225

DURING the summer months a season of popular concerts was given by the Palestine Symphony Orchestra with Jascha Horenstein as chief conductor and Milhaud's 'Suite Provencale' as the principal novelty. The winter season opened later than usual, for owing to the international situation it was impossible for Pierre Monteux to make the journey in October, as originally planned. The subscription season in Tel-Aviv, Haifa and Jerusalem started in November under Eugen Szenkar, who made such an impression here last year, and proved again to be a convincing interpreter of great music, especially of the romanticists and late nineteenth century works. In his second series of concerts Szenkar had Huberman as soloist in the Beethoven Violin Concerto. It was the first time that Huberman had played with an orchestra after his flying accident last year (when there were fears that he would never recover from his injury). His performance was an experience that no member of the vast audiences in the three towns is likely to forget. In addition Huberman gave recitals, assisted by Angelo Kessissoglu, and a concert with chamber orchestra. Some of these concerts were repeated in some larger settlements.

Another event of importance in Palestine musical life was the first performance here of Mahler's third Symphony (the first Symphony was given in the orchestra's first season under Steinberg). Szenkar conducted the work by heart, and the orchestra, enlarged for the occasion, was at its best. The choir was from the Michael Taube chamber choir, and Vittorio Weinberg, a baritone, sang the alto solo.

Szenkar's last concert brought-apart from Beethoven's fifth-Ravel's second suite from the ballet 'Daphnis and Chloe' and the first performance of a thoroughly uninteresting work-Eugen Zador's 'Capriccio Hongrois.'

Szenkar's farewell-outside the regular series of concerts--was a performance of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, with Elsa Juelich-Taube, Dela Gotthelft, Marcel Noe and Vittorio Weinberg as the vocal quartet, and the choir of the Palestine Oratorio, conducted by Fordhaus Ben Tsissy. The conductors engaged for the rest of the season have been Dobrowen, Szell, Dr. Sargent, and Monteux, who has promised to make up for the cancelled concerts this spring.

Saturday, 27 August 2011

Semyon Bychkov Mahler 6th Prom 56

Of all the Mahler Proms this season, only one really stands out for attention, and it's this, Prom 56 with Semyon Bychkov. When Bychkov conducted Mahler in Cologne, I was disappointed, because he favoured Romantic repertoire. Last Proms, he conducted Mahler's 3rd, which I found too refined, but some of my friends loved. But Bychkov is an extremely important conductor, who has a lot to say in Romantic repertoire and opera. So I was thrilled by this Proms performance of Mahler 6. Oddly, in part, because Bychkov draws the parallels with Mahler 3. It's a wonderful insight.

Dispense with the usual maudlin sentimentality that attaches to this symphony, typical of the period. It's good to know what the hammerblows mean and that the symphony's called the "Tragic" but such myths detract from what's really in the music. As pure music, Mahler 6 is remarkably well-constructed, themes interweaving in constantly repeated patterns, which develop imperceptibly towards resolution. Since it's Mahler, it can't be purely abstract, though a straight autobiographical programme is misleading. Interpretation depends on understanding Mahler's music and mindset on a much deeper level. Whatever Haitink may say, everyone interprets. You can't even read a score without interpreting how the marks fit together. Only a machine doesn't "interpret". What I liked about Bychkov's interpretation was that it evolves from the music itself, rather than what Bruno Walter, or Alma, or anyone else might say.

Right from the start, Bychkov goes for the attack. The powerful opening march leads into a quieter theme - not passive, but contemplative. Then a third, expansive theme, often called "alpine", sounds heard from a distance. Hence cowbells and distant natural-sounding trumpets. These three themes interact throughout the symphony, providing a kind of inner skeleton, the "backbone" of the piece. Bychkov's entry is very bright and assertive. Immediately you sense this won't be a doom laden  wail. Mahler wasn't like that. For all his ruminations on death, it's life he's interested in, and its continuation in other forms after death. Hence the marches that run throughout most of the symphonies. Marches aren't necessarily military. Bychkov's march isn't ragged but elegant, even classical. The Mahler 3 connection becomes clear. (Please see what I've written about that on the labels at right) This isn't barbarism but purposeful forward thrust. It's orderly even though it's relentless. Is this the march of time or of nature ?

After the assertive first movement, Bychkov chooses the Scherzo. In this performance, it makes sense because it keeps up the energy levels, and develops the themes of the first in new ways. Placing the Andante third thus gives respite before the explosion that is the Finale, like the first "allegro energico". Classical structure again, right for this performance. Bychkov keeps this Scherzo almost blindingly bright - sharp, clean playing from the BBCSO, flagship of the whole BBC orchestra fleet. This emphasizes the troubling nature of this movement. It's as if unnatural light is throwing shapes into surreal contrast. Here, the march morphs into screams, repeated shrilly. The brass blare then fall into dizzying diminuendo. The percussion sound deliberately wooden. This is altväterisch, a very Austrian expression evoking nostalgic pastoralism. Yet it's not purely for ethnic colour, since Mahler knows very well that folk sounds aren't nearly as complex as full symphonic expression. Perhaps the hollow knocking is a reminder of a heartbeat, or a precursor of the hammerblows to follow. The "alpine" theme emerges quietly, very much alone amid the tumult, and it, too, spirals downwards. The mysterioso seems haunted. Yet the march returns, uncowed. This doesn't feel like a defeat, but a strategic retreat, which again makes sense of Andante before Finale.

After that Scherzo, the Andante does not seem like peace. Bychkov's poise in the Andante implies that the warmth of this alpine summer is fragile, as summers are in the mountains. The delicate balance is soon ruffled by sweeping chill. Yet the march themes remind us that time, or weather, or life, moves ever onwards.  The surging vigour of the march returns, suggesting that whatever might lie ahead shall also pass. The mood is quieter, but uncowed.

The attack that started the first movement returns at the start of the Finale. It's a monumental statement but again is carefully structured. Cowbells suggest the countryside, simple sounds (like heartbeats) underlying the sophisticated achievement of grand symphonic form. They're not just for decoration. The cartoon makes fun of the cowbells and hammer blows in this symphony, but the subject is complex, and worth discussing in depth. Another time ! Bychkov's clarity shows how carefully Mahler 6 is constructed, everything integrated. The trumpet calls refer to "music heard from afar" and also to communication between horns in the mountains, and even perhaps to cosmic trumpets heard from heaven. The celeste suggests otherworldly sounds, wafting from heights unknown. Marvellously brash discords melt into mysterious murmurs.

The march theme returns again, bright, sharp, almost demonic. Bychkov makes it burst with the vigour we associate with the onward march of spring in Mahler 3. Trumpet calls in marches function to rally forces onwards, and whip them into action. The march in this Finale grows ever more strident and energtic, so the dizzying, blinding flash that cuts it off comes as an absolute shock. Silence. Hammerblows. Silence.  Perhaps the hammerblows signify a heart attack or sudden death.  Certainly they're heart-wrenching because they mean the end of all that remarkable music. Yet remember that marches continue relentlessly, marchers who fall replced by new. Mahler's marches are surges of creative energy that cannot be dimmed.

Please see lots more on this site about Mahler and related subjects. My life work, in  a sense.I'm just passing on what I've learned so it might help others. I cover about 40 Proms each year. Please take a bit of time and read more.

Sunday, 27 February 2011

Militant Marching Mahler 3 Szenkár

Eugen Szenkár, Mahler conductor? Most people don't know who Szenkár (1891-1977) was at all, far less his track record in Mahler. But he was quite a significant figure in his time. It was he who premiered Béla Bartók's shocking The Miraculous Mandarin in 1926 and was attacked by Konrad Adenauer, then Mayor of Köln. "Szenkár", he said, "that piece of filth must go!" before banning further performances.

 Bartók knew Szenkár, a fellow Hungarian, and obviously trusted the then young conductor to take on the difficult, innovative piece. Nonetheless, the composer, oblivious to the near riot around him at the premiere, grumbled "Eugen, on page 34, I specified mezzo-forte for the clarinet! I could not hear it!".

Szenkár, like Jascha Horenstein, was forced out of Europe by the Nazis – to Russia in 1934, to South America in 1938. The photo shows him conducting in Buenos Aires in 1939.  He is known to have conducted at the famous opera house, Teatro de Colón and also in Rio de Janeiro. He also reorganized local orchestras. Perhaps Daniel Barenboim's parents knew him?   And Erich Kleiber, who had premiered Wozzeck and had moved to Argentina in 1935 ? They were all part of a flourishing émigré community. Szenkár returned to Germany in 1950, conducting in Mannheim and Düsseldorf, where he died in 1977. He was by no means an obscure conductor, as his continuing relationship with Bartók indicates.

Mahler was not, as popularly supposed, forgotten after his death, for there were many performances of his work among the "modern" young guard. Willem Mengelberg  maintained an unbroken tradition in the Netherlands, and Carl Schuricht started a festival in Wiesbaden in 1923. During 1926 Szenkár conducted several Mahler symphonies in Germany.Thus he was recognized in the field and was awarded a Gold Medal by the Mahlerverein after the war.

Szenkár's recording of Mahler's Third Symphony was made in Köln in March 1951, a few short months after Scherchen made the first ever recording. Because Szenkár was so connected in that period, his recording needs to be studied to get an idea how early Mahler interpreters thought about the symphony. What's striking is how Szenkár emphasizes the marches in Mahler's sunniest, cheeriest symphony. There are marches in this symphony for a a very good reason."Summer marches in", as Mahler said. It's vigorous and drives away all traces of winter in its path  There are references to Dionysius, the God of Misrule, whose followers drunkenly disrupt society around them. But also, there are links to Socialism.

Mahler was known to have sympathies with the left. Workers' movements were active in Germany and Austria. Even Alma noted that Mahler walked alongside a worker's procession. Whether he was merely curious or showing support, we don't know, but he is believed to have voted for the left and certainly was well aware of the issues. Indeed, when Richard Strauss conducted Mahler's Third, he said that the marches made him think of workers' processions, and men marching in solidarity. The relevance, then, for conductors like Szenkár and Horenstein, becomes clearly obvious. They knew all about Hitler's Brownshirts, the Spanish Civil War and the suppression of the left.

Szenkár’s marches capture a rough and ready proletarian feel. Real marching men's brass here, these, played by musicians who had heard a lot of marches in their time, both socialist and national socialist. Militant and military, and still painfully relevant in 1951 when the Cold War split west and east Germany. There is a real grimness to this playing, which even goes beyond Mahler's exhortation roh dreinblasen" (raw and crudely blown). One of the horns manages a bizarre, almost jazz-like flavouring which is not so surprising when you remember what jazz meant in the Weimar Republic and how the Nazis hated it. The orchestra is the Kölner Rundfunk-Sinfonie-Orchester, some of whom might have remembered Adenauer's conservatism and had mixed feelings about capitalism, even if they didn't adhere to communism.

Szenkár keeps a solid, steady rhythm which underpins the different sections in the Erste Abteilung. There are few dramatic contrasts. Even the massed horn fanfare towards the end doesn't shake the sense of relentless marching. This is a very "military" reading, good at capturing "Das Gesindel" (the rabble) with its resonant bass drums and lack of dramatic contrast, even in the famous eight horn fanfare.

The second and third movements are played relatively straightforwardly. Szenkar doesn't make much of the savage irony in the Ablösung sections which do so much to give the symphony its characteristic black humour. However, the posthorn interlude is bittersweet and nostalgic, heard as if from a distance both in space and time. The finale is played through quickly, hardly evoking the horror that Mahler perceived below the surface. Given the gravitas of Szenkár's approach, much might be expected of the critical "O Mensch!". Indeed, the soloist, Diana Eustrati, a Greek alto, makes this perhaps the most successful part of this performance. She sings with dignity, infusing real sincerity into " Doch alle Lust will Ewigkeit". The boy's choir is also excellent – bursting with joyous confidence and exhilaration, a counterpoint to the Dionysian march in the first movement. Eustrati's voice contrasts well against the background of bimm-bamms. Even the orchestra, for once, joins in the exuberance. The final movement draws together the reverence of "O Mensch" and the optimism of the choir, in a shimmering contemplation of bliss. Szenkár's steadiness helps weave a texture where all the elements balance to create a seamless feeling of light.

This recording is on a tiny label, Archiphon, issued about 8 years ago. No way will this appeal to the current fashion for Mahlerkugeln! Nor to those who swallow the "Vienna City of Dreams" mythology.  It's not even one to listen to for "fun". The orchestra is more enthusiastic than good! But it's an extremly important insight into a much deeper level of Mahler's mindset. I don't think you can evaluate this symphony without knowing Szenkár, or Horenstein's Mahler 3. Now maybe you can understand why I think so very highly of Simon Rattle's Mahler Third with the Berliner-Philhamoniker.  Obviously Rattle and the Berliners don't access the same militancy, but they have that energetic, vigorous spirit of conviction. Nature marches on, like mankind, and neither gets suppressed.

Friday, 25 February 2011

Mountains and Mahler - Rattle Mahler 3 Berliner Philharmoniker

"Every experience is unique" says Fergus McWilliams, horn player of the Berliner Philharmoniker in the broadcast now available online of Mahler's Symphony No 3 conducted by Simon Rattle in Berlin earlier this month  (Full concert also available in the Berliner Philhamoniker digital concert hall). McWilliams knows what he's talking about, since he's a 26 year veteran of the orchestra. He speaks of  "new altitudes reached...new base camps established for ever higher ascents". Interesting words, for this performance really feels embedded in the mountains, which meant so much to Mahler.


To 19th century artists, mountains represent Nature in its most pristine, powerful form, wild, untamed as far from urban proprieties as possible. Expand the photo and locate Steinbach am Attersee in the top right, where Mahler had a small composing hut at the water's edge. A massive cliff hangs over the village, which is approached through a narrow and very steep pass in the Höllengebirge. Behind this range, the even more imnposing Hohen Dachstein, covered in snow all year. Mahler hiked and mountain biked, once suffering a fall so bad he was nearly killed. Spectacular as mountains are, they're dangerous and unpredictable. But that's precisely what makes them so inspiring. Mountaineers feel a communion with  nature that's profoundly spiritual.  Climbing is a kind of pilgrimage which lifts you right out of the sphere of ordinary existence. Some say, the ultimate challenge:  making petty ego utterly irrelevant. Think about the trajectory of Mahler's music and its unending search for transcendence and higher planes of existence. Mountains are a metaphor for the soul and for Mahler's music.

In this Berlin performance of Mahler 3, Rattle and the Berliners create an extraordinarily prescient image of the mountains. Mahler 3 is often considered the most cheerful of Mahler's symphonies, but on a deeper level there's much more to it. Adrenalin doesn't flow unless you've risked something. Peaks aren't reached without effort.  Thus the bedrock of the symphony is the massive first movement. Mahler seems to be building mountains into the music. The solid blocks of sound have an almost geological intensity. The Rite of Spring before Stravinsky, Et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum before Messiaen.

Follow these blocks as mountains and the structure of the sprawling first movement reveals its true logic. Hear the steady tread of footsteps which give the music a pulse. Right from the start, a sense of danger - muffled rumblings from the basses, like ominous clouds, then suddenly the wild sweep of trombones - an instrument that looks as expansive as it sounds. With each progression, the music develops into a panorama, like a circle of mountains. Each peak gained reveals new vistas, spurring  the music forward and upward.  Stunning ascents, each more spectacular than the other (listen for the horn) yet the Berliners don't lose touch with the darker, craggier aspects in the music. There's violence here. The trudging footseps become a determined march, the timpani beating staccato like machine gun fire. Storms and danger never far away, like the low, brooding strings at  44', magnificent and sculptural. Oddly, I thought of Horenstein's dark Mahler 3, with its glowering crags. What might Horenstein have done with an orchestra like the Berliners?  Even more energy in this performance than in the recent Mahler 4th, for a good reason. Traversing this movement is strenuous. Losing momentum can turn it into mush. So Rattle and the Berliners take risks - as mountaineers do - so the peaks when reached are all the more exhilirating.

With these fundamentals established, the next sections can be more relaxed., literally "ohne hast". The Berliners do the details with great lyricism. Birdsong, flourishes on the clarinet like moments from Das himmmlische Leben. circular shapes that dance. It feels like open alpine meadow, the solo violin playing exqusitely nostalgic melodies. Yet no stasis. The offstage trumpets call, from the "heavens" above, answered by the brass in the "earthly" orchestra. Both exqusitely beautiful in this performance. Yet immediately the mood is cut by Dionysian swagger. Summer rushes forth with unstoppable vigour - listen to the brass repeat the birdsong, but with sass and rude health. Kukuk ist tod, kukuk ist  tod - but not for the moment!  Summer is short in the mountains, as the lingering call of the distant brass reminds us. But while it's here it's glorious, as the rush at the end of the second movement reminds us.


Natalie Stutzmann's voice doesn't lend itself easily to many parts of the repertoire but her O Mensch is perfection. Stutzmann doesn't do diva. In a piece as deep as this the emphasis must be on meaning, not magnificence. Stutzmann's lack of self consciousness is wonderful. She realizes that outward appearances are irrelevant, almost offensive, for what Mahler is getting at here is the sublimation of ego, Stutzmann is wonderful because she sounds like a primeval spirit, an earth goddess, perhaps, a darker version of Dionysius. The flute winds round her voice at once seductive and malevolent, snake-like. It feels like a lament from the beginning of time, as clarinet and horn take up the wailing theme, interspersed with whip-like string interjections.

Stutzmann's so powerful that she infuses the glorious final movement with graciousness. All round her the bright, cheerful voices of the boys in the Berlin State and Cathedral Choir and the women of the Berlin Radio Chorus. Ecstatic happiness, yet an apotheosis won at a cost, as Stutzmann's dignity reminds us. The bimm-bamms are angels and church bells tolling, as they do in the Alps, but there's also something much deeper in this performance. It feels like a communion with the essence of nature where man's tribulations are rendered trivial. Transcendence of the self:, the spirit of nearly all Mahler. Das Lied von der Erde looms into view. Rattle and the Berliners are onto something profound, completely against the current trend towards soft centred performance practice, but more in tune with serious Mahler scholarship.  Mahler couldn't stand the cosy social whirl of cities like Vienna, and couldn't wait to get away.
Please also see Miltant Marching Mahler Eugen Szenkar's 1951 recording of Mahler 3.


More on Mahler on this site than most, please search and follow the labels.

Thursday, 23 September 2010

Mahler 3 Jurowski

There have been so many Mahler Third's in the last few years,  so great expectations for Jurowski and the London Philharmonic Orchestra at the Royal Festival Hall last night. We were all in an uncommonly receptive mood.

What would they find in it? Not so much Mahler as Wagner. Mahler conceived this symphony inspired by the wide open spaces of the Salzkammergut. Obviously, not literal representation, but the idea of struggle and creative freedom is very much a part of Mahler's psyche and thus part of his music.  Jurowski's Mahler 3 is very "indoors", replete with every luxury possible. Wagner in Switzerland, safe from Saxons and creditors, swathed in velvet.

The first movement is monumental for a reason. It's a blockbuster as imposing as the mountains, created to set a framework against which all other elements are heard. Hence the importance of analytical thinking, understanding why Mahler's music evolves the way it does. Jurowski, never a great Mahler conductor, dispenses with structure and goes instead for maximum orchestral impact.

Cue for luscious textures, grand sweeping gestures, the ultimate Romantic symphony,. Mahler as Tchaikovsky, perhaps. Jurowski luxuriates in gorgeousness, so this was seductive performance indeed. Although details in Mahler are important, they are always there for a purpose, not merely to fill space. He lived in fin de siècle times but was personally quite ascetic. Without architecture or ideas, Mahler isn't Mahler.
 
Nice details, especially the sour-noted clarinet that weaves around Petra Lang as she sings O Mensch. It's like a poisonous snake, a valid image in this song that reflects on the sufferings of mankind, thanks to apples, temptation and the Devil.  Less successful was the swagger in the Scherzando, whose deliberate bumptiousness wouldn't sit well with an interpretation as civilized as this.

Jurowski dwells on detail to the extent that themes blur rather than take shape. Tempi are drawn out lovingly, but in the process the drama is lost. I don't do stopwatch but someone in the exit said he'd never heard timings so diffuse. Jurowski smiled a lot while conducting, which was a good thing, because this is Mahler's sunniest symphony.

Several times I was thrown, hearing all the right notes but wondering what symphony this might be. Where was it going?  Then I realized that the key to this performance wasn't to think about Mahler as we know him now, but in terms of what Alma would have wanted us to hear him. There's a huge difference, but Alma's view is more marketable. While well played, for the most part,  this performance could be enjoyed as an indulgence rather than as an insight.

It's not Jurowski's fault. He's never been a great Mahler man (with the wonderful exception of Das klagende Lied in 2007) but he's fallen for the rebranding and repackaging the Mahler year has brought. Sugar-coated Mahler sells. Jurowski's a natural opera man, a Russian specialist par excellence, so he does Mahler in much the same way,. It's lovely to listen to, but isn't necessarily the composer's idiom. 

Jurowski was much more in his element with Zemlinsky's Maeterlinck Songs op 13, where highly perfumed sensuality is essential to meaning. This is a wonderful cycle  but it's not heard to best advantage with a symphony like Mahler 3. Indeed, part of the problem with this Mahler 3 was that it was infused with Zemlinsky. Contemporaries they were, but extremely different musically. The Maeterlinck Songs need to be showcased on their own terms, so performance is truly committed. Perta Lang has done this repertoire so often, she can sing this well, and sit down and save herself for another hour before the Misterioso movement, but she's so good she deserves star billing, not a warm-up act.

Please see some of Jurowski's earlier Mahler HERE. 

And here's Andrew Clark in the Financial Times.   "Jurowski’s crisp, clinical control was such that you couldn’t help being diverted by the way he manicured this or that motif – sometimes to Mahler’s benefit, as in the Minuet’s counter-themes. But tempi were so drawn out, with every phrase held up for inspection, polish and communal admiration, that the performance suffocated under its own self-absorption."

Thursday, 5 August 2010

Mahler 3rd Runnicles Prom 24

For my review of Mahler 7 Metzmacher please look HERE. For Mahler 9, Haitink in 2009 please see HERE.To be honest, I did not know what to make of Donald Runnicles's Mahler Third Symphony, Prom 24. Obviously it wouldn't be fair to compare it with the brilliant Abbado Mahler 3 at the Proms in 2007 (or his even better performance at Lucerne earlier that year).  Runnicles has been appearing at the Proms for years (I liked his Gurrelieder in 2002). Now he's taken over from Ilan Volkov as Chief Conductor of the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra, he's getting a massive publicity build-up. It is good for the US market, where he is well-known.

No Mahler Symphony no 3 can ever really disappoint, because it's glorious music. Even Gergiev's Mahler 3 was one of his finer moments, because he responded to the "inner demon" in this symphony. This may be the sunniest and happiest of all Mahler's symphonies, but there's a kick in it that's more Puck than Flower Fairies.

The first movement is capably set out. Runnicles goes for a sense of vastness, big open spaces. It's impressive, but as with all Mahler. struggle is of the essence. At the BBC Proms in 2005, Franz Welser-Möst conducted the Cleveland Orchestra in a quite remarkable Mahler 3 where the first movement actually felt like climbing mountains.  Mahler was a hill walker, he knew that peaks aren't reached without struggle. This music moves like a series of peaks and plateaux, each summit revealing further challenges.

Mahler would have reached Steinbach-am-Attersee, on whose shores the symphony was written, through an arduous climb over a mountain pass. The hushed rumbling rolls of percussion evoked a sense of dark depths, struggling ever upwards. “Pan sleeps”, he wrote, "but gradually gleaming flashes of brass grow ever more insistent, as if something is stirring." Mahler wanted the effect of  “a military band on parade, with such a mob (of onlookers) milling about”. There are several other marches here, a funeral, the procession of Dionysius and his drunken followers, and the journey through mountain peaks, and the onward rush of summer - and time -  itself. Runnicles's vision is more magisterial, classically elegant, rather than dangerous.

In his original plans for the symphony, Mahler used the term “Pan awakes!”. As Donald Mitchell says, Mahler discarded his titles like a builder discards scaffolding when a building is complete: but ignore the original intention at your peril. Pan represents a disorder, a powerful life force that convention cannot withstand. He drives away winter, and all it symbolizes. So a sense of Pandemonium wouldn't be out of order.  Listen to Jascha Horenstein for the dark heart of this symphony. Sometimes, just the manic whips of brass suffice to whip the music along. Here, though, they were more integrated into a more even-toned pace.

Runnicles's final movement impressed me more on relistening. He brings out its measured repose well, and Karen Cargill's dark timbre gave O Mensch  depth.  Vibrato, properly used, isn't a crime, and was valid in Mahler's time. The Royal Scottish National Orchestra Junior Chorus sang nice bimm-bamms, but children's choruses usually sound better when the kids are allowed more freedom. To riot, perhaps, as Pan might have liked. But with that resounding finale, all that is passed is wiped away in a blaze of light and colour. Good beginning, good ending, but it would have been good to get a better sense of the journey.

Please read about Esa-Pekka Salonen's Mahler 3 in June 2007, which marked the reopening of the Royal Festival Hall. Given the occasion, its brightness was appropriate, for this symphony celebrates "newness" - the coming of summer, invigorated freedom and creativity. Runnicles' Mahler 3 can perhaps be heard in that light, too, though it was more sedate. The BBCSSO and the Philharmonia Orchestra are very different, as is the Royal Albert Hall. .PLENTY of Mahler on this site, please use the labels and keep reading.

Thursday, 27 May 2010

Berliner-Philharmoniker Mahler series 2010-11

The Berliner-Philharmoniker reveals its new season May to May 2010-2011.here. Mahler, of course, but upmarket and with an edge. There'll be many Mahler cycles this year, some "feel the width, not the quality".  The Berliners do Mahler superbly. After all, they're one of the finest orchestras anywhere, and steeped in 19th century Austro-German tradition. Rattle's Mahler is very good indeed, always with personality. This will genuinely be a worthy contribution to the Mahler Year, because the series is so intelligently put together.

For review of the Mahler 1 concert please see http://classical-iconoclast.blogspot.com/2010/09/rattle-berliner-mahler-1-beethoven-prom.html.

The series starts August 27 2010, with the First Symphony, the concert being repeated twice in November, three different performances over three months. Compare and contrast. Next, in February 2011, they'll be doing three performances in three days of Mahler's Third Symphony. It should be good, particularly as they're  doing it with Hugo Wolf's Elfenlied. This  is the orchestral version of the famous Mörike song, but is very rarely heard. Only 2 recordings.  It's a magical, diaphanous song, but works very well even when scored for a Mahler-sized orchestra. This will be a revelation! It should work well with Mahler 3, since both are rhapsodies on Nature. It's Hugo Wolf's anniversary too, but thank goodness the exploitation machine hasn't hit him yet.

Mark 16, 17 and 18 Feb too because Christine Schäfer is the soloist  in Mahler 4. She's wonderful in this, combining fragility with firmness. She's been singing it for years, yet she manages to get something very special. In fact, she's one of my top choices. It's on with Stravinsky's quirky ballet Apollo. 

In April, Mahler 5 with Henry Purcell, Funeral Music for Queen Mary - very interesting indeed, Rattle bringing his early music expertise to the Berliners who in recent years have hugely expanded their core repertoire. Obviously, it will be RIAS Kammerchor doing the honours, but musicians listen, too, and learn from each other. Rattle's motive may be to show how pure and lucid Mahler 5 can be. A few years ago,  I heard Daniel Harding mix Mahler 5 with Rameau. What a daring choice! But it worked beautifully, showing how carefully crafted the symphony is, more chamber music than bombast.

In May 2011, Claudio Abbado AND Maurizio Pollini! Only the Adagio from Mahler 10, but combined with Liszt Totentanz, it makes sense. But M10 looks forwards, too, since Mahler didn't know he was going to die. So The Berliners and Abbado will be playing Berg's Lulu Suite. That's also a thoughtful choice, because M10 is infused with Alma, and in many ways Alma was a  Lulu.

In June 2011, Rattle conducts M6 with Berg's Three Pieces for Orchestra. and Vladimir Jurowski conducts Das klagende Lied. Jurowski's Mahler can be uneven, Again, there's a brain behind this programming, since it matches conductors to works they do well. Jurowski shines in this piece, because it's the closest Mahler gets to Romantic opera (Die drei Pintos doesn't count). Recently I heard Daniele Gatti condiuct DkL, very well, though he's not usually idiomatic in Mahler.

The Berlin Philharmonic has been doing interesting Mahler for years, including Mahlerthons at Easter with Boulez, so they have a track record.  This 2010-11 series will be good because it's designed with integrity, and with genuine understanding of what makes Mahler the composer he is.  LOTS MORE on Mahler on this site - and ORIGINAL too - things you won't find anywhere else. follow labels, search, subscribe