Edinburgh
Festival 2005 at the Usher Hall:
Gustav Mahler Jugendorchester, 26 August, and the opening Bamberg
Symphony Orchestra concert, 29 August, Usher Hall,
Edinburgh (JP)
It is very interesting staying at Pollocks Hall in Edinburgh surrounded by some of
the performers you have already seen or will later see later.
You can have breakfast one day with a young cellist from the
Gustav Mahler Jugendorchester, overhear the conversation of ballet dancers
the next and on another morning share a table with a violinist
from the Bamberg Symphony Orchestra. From this I learned how
their stage manager had died en route to Scotland whilst transporting their
instruments. Even more revealing however, was to discover something
about the current state of classical music in Germany where few employment opportunities
beckon for talented young musicians because of cuts in finance.
The Bamberg Symphony with ony 114 players has been spared, whilst
illustrious counterparts like the Munich Philharmonic have lost
10 or more from their ranks. The Bamberg Symphony were
in residency at the Edinburgh International Festival for a series
of five concerts in six days.
The GMJO however were only there
for one night of their summer tour between concerts in Graz and Lucerne. They brought with them
a mixture of their two tour programmes consisting of music by
Richard Strauss, Mahler and Bruckner. The concert (26 August)
opened with Strauss’s Till Eulenspiegel (1894-95) which like many
other Strauss tone poems deals with an outsider able to influence
those around him for good or evil. When Strauss’s first opera
Guntram
was produced in Weimar in 1894, it was a critical failure
and this resulted in Strauss’s thoughts
about Till Eulenspiegel:The Opera
becoming abandoned in favour of this much shorter work. ‘Eulenspiegel’
literally translates as ‘Owl Mirror’ and possibly refers to
a proverb ‘Man sees his own faults as little as … an owl recognises
his ugliness in … a mirror.’ The legendary character Till is
a comic anti-hero whio spends his time mostly deflating the
pomposity of others.
The work itself is an extended
Rondo in which a pair of repeating themes is contrasted against
a series of episodes depicting Till’s various adventures. The Till of legend, lived to a great
age and died peacefully in bed but here there is no such happy
ending here - Strauss’s prankster is hanged for a particularly
blasphemous sermon. It is a rich orchestral palette with complex
rhythms and abrupt shifts between one group of instruments and
another. There is a grand climax as a roll of drums announces
the gallows; an E flat clarinet squeals Till’s last moments
before a repeat of the opening theme in the strings, reveals
that Till’s spirit lives on and that he has played his ultimate
trick by triumphing over death.
In truth, the work feels rather
like the trailer to the main feature film with individual events
passing from one to the next rather too quickly. However this
is no reflection on the technical excellence of the massed ranks
of the young GMJO who gave a spirited and exuberant performance
under Ingo Metzmacher, soon to take
over from Kent Nagano at the Deutsches
Sinfonie-Orchester Berlin. The Mahler
offering in the programme were seven Lieder from Das Knaben Wunderhorn
sung by the German baritone Matthias Goerne.
Each song has its own sound allied to the individuality of its
orchestration;there are military ones (Wo die schönen Trompeten blasen, Der Schildwache Nachtlied, Revelge, Der Tamboursg’sell),
two lighter and slightly ironic ones (Lob
des hohen Verstandes
and Fischpredigt)
and the spiritual Urlicht
(which was also later built into Mahler’s Second Symphony).
I always find Matthias Goerne’s constant movement on the concert platform somewhat
distracting and also find that it does not help to dramatise
what he is singing. Tragedy, loss, sombre eeriness were lacking
from the march-like military songs but the gentler ones found
the soloist at much greater ease both physically and vocally,
with Urlicht perhaps
the best communicated of the set of seven. The best accompaniment
came with Wo die schönen Trompeten blasen with its juxtaposition
from lost love to war played out between the GMJO well-schooled
wind ensemble and the gently refined strings.
After the interval I had my
second encounter with Bruckner’s Sixth Symphony within a very
short time. I moaned in some writing elsewhere about the inadequacies
of printed programme notes at the BBC Proms and this situation
repeated itself in Edinburgh. We read rightly how the ‘repeated
note’ at the start of the Scherzo ‘seems not to have been lost
on Mahler, who began his own … Sixth Symphony in similar fashion’.
But that is as far as it went in informing the audience of what
it was about to hear. If classical symphony concerts are to
attract new audiences they need to say more about things to listen out for. We may read how ‘The
main theme (of the opening movement) … is tinged with minor-mode
inflections that give the impression that the music is beginning
not so much in the home key of A major as on the brink of D
minor’ - but new concert goers may need some help over what
this means. An attempt to broaden the appeal and understanding
of classical music (and not just talk to the cognoscenti)
needs to be made in my opinion. I have no formal music education
(you can tell that can’t you?) but I can remember a ‘theme’
or, to put it more crudely, ‘a tune’! So while we are informed
that Bruckner ‘revered’ Wagner, we are not told to listen for
the Leitmotif of Isolde’s
Liebestod called out by the brass throughout the
Finale. Hans Redlich, the celebrated
Austrian musicologist of the last century, for instance, was
one of the earliest to remark on the ‘echo’ of the Rhinedaughters’
scene from Götterdämmerung in the Sixth Symphony Scherzo
but the Edinburgh programme notes told no-one to look out for
that! Earlier still, we were pointed towards Leonard Bernstein’s
‘lifting’ of the opening of the Adagio for ‘There’s A Time For
Us’ in his West Side Story.
(I understand that debate rages about how little Bruckner Bernstein
performed. He apparently disliked Bruckner’s music - but obviously
there were bits of it he did like. There is one live recording
of the Sixth with the New York Philharmonic [Mahler’s old orchestra]
but this seems to be the only other symphony he chose to perform
other than the Ninth which he recorded twice.)
It was the fervent brass playing of the GMJO that
was naturally brought to the fore in a compellingly fresh account
of a score such as can only be given by an orchestra generally
new to this (or any other) Symphony. Ingo Metzmacher seemed totally at ease with this ultimately triumphant
music, conducting a performance which had an interesting (almost
surprising given the composer) Austrian/German Schwung to it.
The Bamberg Symphony Orchestra
is an outstanding group of musicians from a tiny medieval German
town. For their opening concert (29 August) Mahler’s Fifth Symphony
was paired with György Ligeti’s
Violin Concerto. This was my first experience of the violin
piece ‘the definitive
score’ of which, as a programme note interestingly told us,
was finished in 1992 and then revised
the next year’ – my italics! I was stunned, however as an open-minded
critic willing to hear anything new when I overheard a couple
discussing the music at the end and commenting ‘Now they have
finished tuning up maybe they’ll start the concerto!’
It is this tuning, or rather
de-tuning, of the solo violin, as well as other instruments
in the small chamber orchestra, that gives the music its parallel
dimension quality, at least to ears accustomed to nineteenth
century instrumental music.
Into this mix come ocarinas, slide whistles and recorder,
plus the violinist playing nearly everything near the bridge
- which must have turned the heads of every stray dog in the
vicinity towards the Usher Hall. Apart from the opening of the
second movement there is no recognisable melody and even there
this is used as nothing more than a reflected memory of times
past. Christian Tetzlaff played the difficult solos with stunning
virtuosity, employing with staggering ease the exaggerated percussive
accents and very dry string textures required by this abstract
work.
Regrettably, the effect that
Ligeti had on the audience numbers was considerable because
the concert hall was again far from full (the GMJO concert also
had not ‘sold out’). With the ever-popular Fifth Symphony being
played it should have ensured an auditorium filled to capacity,
particularly during a Festival series. It seems that unless
a superstar conductor or a soloist with a legendary orchestra
are performing, there have been plenty of empty seats at the
BBC Proms this year. Can this be announcing the death of the
regular Symphony concert in the UK I wonder, or perhaps just
the death of those who used to attend these concerts? The BSO's
chief conductor, Solihull-born Jonathan Nott, is a particular
advocate for contemporary music and there is no problem with
playing works like the Ligeti in Bamberg where their list of
subscribers vastly outnumbers the seats available in their 1500-seater
concert hall.
The key moment in any performance
of Mahler’s Fifth Symphony is usually considered to be be the
Adagietto, the fourth movement. I
will return to that later but in this concert, a particular
point of interest was raised by the Scherzo just before it.
Here Mahler’s keenness for the Ländler which has consumed this entire movement as pure nostalgic
reminiscence was enhanced by bringing the principal horn player,
Samuel Seidenberg, to the front of the platform to play his
horn obbligato to ‘speak out and echo
across deep mountain gorges’ as the programme told us. (This
magical effect was somewhat spoiled by the soloist having to
frequently clear out the tubing of his instrument.)
‘This Adagietto was Gustav Mahler’s declaration of love to Alma!
Instead of a letter he confided it in this manuscript without
a word of explanation. She understood and replied: He should
come!!! (I have this from both of them!) W.M.'
The W.M. was Willem Mengelberg
and these words was written in his own hand in the score from
which he conducted in the period when he Mahler’s principal
champion (1904 to 1940.) The infamous Tempo of this music is
not, in fact, as important as the passion, or poignancy, refracted
by the performance. Here even though it came in leisurely at
just under 11 minutes (as it does on the BSO's splendid CD available
from Tudor), only towards the end did the ‘love’ in Mahler’s
‘letter’ ebb away towards the maudlin.
Throughout the Fifth Symphony
the BSO played with refined excellence with telling contributions
from many. Colours, textures and tensions in this emotional
work, as it transcends the darkness and heads towards the light,
was encouraged by the demonstrative, but sensitive, conducting
of Jonathan Nott. He is someone who deserves to be better known
within classical music circles in this country than he currently
appears to be. His musically expansive circular arm movements
would be of benefit to any of our British orchestras, and opinion
which was reinforced by his compelling account of Tristan und Isolde in the second concert
with his orchestra, the following evening.
© Jim Pritchard
Back to the Top
Back to the Index Page