Thursday, 11.26.09, 6:00 pm
Gustav Mahler – Symphony No.6 (Part 2)
This continues Gustav Mahler — Symphony No.6 (Part 1) from Wednesday, with a discussion of more “Mahler 6” recordings I particularly cherish.
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Like a possessed Bulldog, drooling over the orchestra, Sir John Barbirolli drives the New Philharmonia to a performance somewhat the polar opposite of other Barbirolli Mahler-recordings. The sound quality is not the best (but has been improved significantly for all subsequent re-issues on CD, starting with the double forte edition) and you can hear Barbirolli grunt, huff, and puff—but that all sounds appropriate, as does the less-than-perfect playing of the orchestra. It is wild-eyed, relentless; its teeth are showing. The first movement drags cruelly but appropriately to these ears, because the attacks are sharp and on the toes, not the heal. The repeat is skipped.
This recording has thankfully been re-issued again—now with Barbirolli’s preferred, original movement order, with the Andante first. (On previous issues, the engineers had other ideas and placed the Scherzo first, in accordance with the critical Mahler Edition’s suggestions at the time. It works to riveting effect, which somewhat excuses their interference with the maestro’s wishes.)
Barbirolli and Bernstein’s view of this symphony were very likely influenced by the greatest Mahlerian since Mengelberg and Walter, and by far the most exciting next to Bernstein: Dimitri Mitropoulos. Mitropoulos gave the first American performances of the Sixth (Andante/Scherzo) in 1947. A recording from 1955 (also Andante/Scherzo) with the New York forces is floating around (notably in the New York Philharmonic $200-plus luxury box set) and is said to be played better—but the live-recording with the WDR Sinfonieorchester Köln from 1959 (at time when “live” meant live!) is riveting, raw, individualistic (still shy of eccentric); truly an edge-of-the-seat reading. (Issued on the Mitropoulos set as part of EMI’s prematurely aborted “Greatest Conductors of the 20th Century” edition, it is still available… while I’m not sure if I trust–not having heard it but given bad experience with the label–the sound on the Urania issue currently in print.) That the orchestra struggles in several passages can be troubling—or alternatively seen as furthering that pushed-to-the-brink feeling. The order of the movement is Scherzo/Andante and that’s how it has been published in all its outings on CD… Mitropoulos curiously having changed the movement-order four years prior to the International Gustav Mahler Gesellschaft’s critical edition suggesting the Scherzo be placed first. (Most likely Erwin Ratz, founder and editor of the IGMG, and the irrationally ardent supporter of the Scherzo-Andante order mentioned above, had convinced him to do so before a performance in Vienna in 1957.) The sound is admittedly rather limited for most of the first movement but it gets better from thereon… and the rest of the modest quality is adjusted for by the ears. Not a ‘first’ recommendation but a dedicated Mahler listener or any fan of the Sixth won’t pass it up. This recording, unlike some other old and low-fi recordings I have criticized, is one where you definitely can hear and enjoy the interpretive choices.
Boulez (DG) has a very strong Sixth to offer—and while it is not quite as no-holds-barred rough and raw as Bernstein, Mitropoulos, or Barbirolli (the Vienna Philharmonic plays far too beautifully for that), he might still be considered to fall down on the ‘brutal’ side. It’s a tremendous recording and would probably—despite the polarizing effect the name “Boulez” has on Mahlerites or music fans in general—be the least controversial first choice for the Sixth. (To eradicate the “cold” stereotype that so disturbs sensible discussion of Boulez’ conducting: clear and clean he is always and ‘analytical’ often; but a sense of detachment only appears in his Mahler Third and Seventh. Blind hearings would surely show him ranked as surprisingly emotive!)
My preference has long been Benjamin Zander’s recording, whose ongoing cycle on Telarc (also available on SACDs) comes with a commentary disc discussing each symphony. These comments range from good and entertaining to revealing and insightful—and his commentary on the Sixth is particularly fine. The Telarc sound—here as on Yoel Levi’s recordings—is usually very good, too, and while the Sixth is not the strongest of his issues on that count, it’s still better than most contenders. Zander, who cares deeply about Mahler’s music, takes his time with the Sixth—but still gets tremendous excitement out of it and squarely falls down on the ‘raw’ side of interpretations. Everyone can program the movement order any way they wish—but Zander also offers choice when it comes to the Hammerblow ‘dilemma’. He recorded both versions (although being a firm believer in three, rather than two, such blows) on this two-disc set (plus one disc for the 80 minute commentary) that sells for the price of one. His heavy involvement in the music leaves fingerprints; there is some pulling of tempi that can strike one as self-conscious. It’s zany and neurotic and sometimes it stalls. There are those who will find this very disconcerting, but it strikes me all as befitting the symphony. The Philharmonia might never be included among the top Mahler orchestras, but balances and execution are largely without flaws and I have no qualms putting it at the top of my personal list… even if it cannot be recommended without a little “emptor caveat”.
One of the latest additions of ‘Sixths’ needs to be mentioned: Christoph Eschenbach, in his third recording with the Philadelphia Orchestra on Ondine (
), delivers a parting salvo of grand proportions (the recording was released at around the same time he announced to step down as Music Director in Philadelphia after a tenure fraught with unease and disagreements). Next to Gielen’s and Zander’s, it’s the only modern recording of the Sixth that can be included in the ‘wild’ category. Eschenbach delivers only two Hammerblows but interestingly he takes the Scherzo first. Playing (plenty aggression) and sound on the SACD hybrid are flawless. It is heavy and heavy hitting, sometimes slow to get its own weight moving in the first movement—but rarely ever to its detriment, usually to the benefit of its ransacking, pillaging quality. The dainty, ‘Nutcrackery’ interludes and gentleness in the same movement sound all the more like false calm. Coupling it with the Mahler Piano Quartet (filling out the second disc) was a great idea, too, especially when the playing is as good as here.
Gielen, at his best, combines the analytic ability of Boulez with the charged quality of Barbirolli. Less emotional than Boulez at times but more willing to go for the music’s ‘ugly bite’. His 1999 Sixth brings those two sides together to splendid effect. Gielen can turn from delicate to viciously nasty on a dime. His brass lumbers drunkenly in the Scherzo (taken first). His orchestras’ voices can all be heard, which is where Gielen’s clean approach comes in. The Sixth needs not to be analyzed perhaps, but of the finished symphonies of Mahler it is the one that demands most that its disparate voices be heard as such and not part of a large mass of sound, bombastic thought much of it appears. It is almost difficult not to sympathize with the (harsh) critics of his time who found Mahler’s symphonies, and the Sixth especially so, to be brazen cacophonies, loud and obnoxious caricatures of themselves. “Monkey-music” and “Music-by-the-Mile” were the lesser accusations.
Gustav Altmann had put it better when he said that Mahler’s work is like an eloquent speaker whose eloquence and decent manner will make you listen to him once… but who then proceeds to tell you the same point over and over again, with ever increasing insistence and self-satisfaction, ever louder. Until he no longer speaks but screams right in your face—as though he was not able to convince by virtue of content but only loudness or strength…
Like individuals unconcerned with their surrounding, the instruments blare and yelp in seeming unconcerned bliss and ignorance. It’s the rather the contradiction of Sym-Phony. The Sixth of Mahler is in many places decidedly Asymphonic. And even when you get to the resting-pool of the work, the gorgeous Andante, it is a beautiful melody but constructed completely askew. The twist makes it more intriguing and is typical Mahler—but adds that sense of instability to it that makes it less the respite it seems at first. Gielen, to get back to his recording, is wonderfully calm and gently flowing here—ending happily and audibly on that succulent plopped bass note before heading for the drama of the half hour finale.
Belonging in this category is also an ‘unlikely incredible’ recording I became aware of only this month: Jonathan Darlington and the Duisburg Philharmonic put down a first movement that comes as close to my ideal as any. On the audiophile Acousense label (mentioned when I wrote about their now out-of-print recording of the Hamburg version of the First Symphony) the Duisburg band puts its foot down from the opening notes achieving a gripping, raw cello sound and enormous forward drive. At almost 23 ½ minutes Darlington is on the slower side of first movements, but his opening sounds—and is—faster than just about anyone else’s. The pace, if not the speed, is kept up throughout… but then slackens a little in the following Andante, one of the slowest on record. The cowbells, unfortunately, sound more like an inconsiderate caterer’s clangy dinner cart is being pushed by the orchestra, but that’s my only real complaint. The Scherzo and the Finale are ravishing. A terrific performance well caught in concert.
(Continued tomorrow.)
The font used in the title is “Bernhard Fashion Roman”