Dvořák and Mahler:
Salisbury Symphony Orchestra, conducted by David Halls,
at the City Hall, Salisbury, UK 25.11. 2006 (JPr)
Mahler’s Sixth Symphony is laden with mystery and contradictions.
We start with the nickname ‘Tragic’ that appeared on the
programme for the premičre in Vienna on the 4 January
1907 — but was that the composer’s idea? In the first
movement the ‘Alma theme’ rises to be joined by a theme
borrowed from Liszt’s E flat Piano Concerto; was this
on purpose or because he just had it in his head after
conducting same concerto in 1903? And what about Alma’s
reminiscence that the second theme is her husband’s portrait
in music of her, do we believe her?
Alma's notorious unreliability comes to the fore when
she tells us the Scherzo’s middle part - the ‘Altväterisch’
Trio - represents the ‘unrhythmical games’
of their two daughters. The problem with that is that
in the summer of 1903, when Mahler was writing the music
of that movement, one daughter (Maria) was less than a
year old and the other (Anna) had not yet been born. Additionally
we need to ask if the Finale should have two or three
hammer blows and indeed the original conception may actually
have involved five. Alma believed that Mahler had tempted
fate by composing the Sixth Symphony and the Kindertotenlieder,
and was himself responsible for what befell him later
in 1907. It was Mahler’s view that an artist might
sense his own future.
Of
course, the greatest controversy concerns the order of
the inner movements. This has everything a conspiracy
theorist would love including a great cover-up by the
International Gustav Mahler Society. Mahler’s first thoughts
with his Sixth Symphony placed the Scherzo second to be
followed by the Andante third. It was the standard classical
practice at the time to have the slow movement come second
and a dance movement third. However Beethoven swapped
the order for his Ninth Symphony, and so did Mahler in
the Fourth. Mahler’s uncertainty about the matter is revealed
as he switched the original Roman numerals on his autograph
score. His publisher printed the score Scherzo/Andante,
but while rehearsing for its first performance (Essen,
May 1906), he began to play the Andante first then
the Scherzo (A/S) and had slips inserted into unsold copies
of the score to indicate the change. So this is how the
symphony was performed while Mahler was alive, and how
his friend Willem Mengelberg performed it with his Amsterdam
Concertgebouw orchestra in 1916. In 1919 however, before
conducting the Sixth once again, it is possible that the
conductor may have come across a pre-erratum-slip S/A
copy of the score and that he telegraphed Alma for clarification,
which was probably not the best idea. Her brief answer
was, ‘First Scherzo, then Andante,’ and that is how Mengelberg
conducted it in 1919 and 1920. If this issue was so important
then it is odd that nothing further was heard from Alma
when other conductors in live performance or on recordings
chose the A/S version.
The
Critical Edition of the Sixth Symphony was produced by
the International Gustav Mahler Society in Vienna in 1963
and this was S/A. There was no evidence for doing so the
Editor Erwin Ratz explained that Mahler had quickly realized
his mistake and restored his preferred order. Not even
Alma’s telegram rated a mention in this explanation I
believe, and few conductors challenged the decision although
many intriguing things happened as a consequence. John
Barbirolli for instance, continued to conduct the piece
A/S, but for his recording in 1967, EMI switched the movements,
apparently without Barbirolli’s approval, to conform to
the Critical Edition. EMI did restore them later to the
order the conductor wanted, however.
There is just no evidence that I am aware of that Mahler
changed his mind about wanting the Andante before the
Scherzo and recently The International Gustav Mahler Society
itself has published its revised second thoughts along
these lines. My own opinion, for what it is worth, is
that the symphony has more impact, is more frightening
- more ‘tragic’ maybe? — if the Alpine refuge of the Andante
comes before the ‘Dance of Death’ (Totentanz) horrors
of the Scherzo. Both sides of the argument can get bogged
down in technicalities and other musical minutiae, so
as Benjamin Zander has suggested, there are actually two
Mahler Sixths - the one that was the original conception
of Mahler the composer and the one that was the result
of the revisions of Mahler the conductor, made in the
process of rehearsing and performing the work. Zander's
peerless recording with the Philharmonia allows both versions
to be played.
The
purpose of this lengthy introduction is that it was the
S/A version that was performed by the Salisbury Symphony
Orchestra. The premičre for thatwas in Essen which is
only 30 miles from the town of Xanten in Germany with
which Salisbury was twinned in 2006 and for which this
concert was a celebration.
The
music began with Dvořák's Serenade
in E for strings. Perhaps the minds of those in the
augumented strings section were already on the minefields
of the Mahler to come, but they did not quite have the
richness or mellifluousness that this atmospheric Bohemian
music needs. Though undoubtedly eloquent, that was a very
studied and careful performance lacking a certain fluency.
Any
Mahler symphony is a major undertaking for a suburban,
semi-professional, youth or amateur orchestra wven those
that include a number of experienced musicians. The Salisbury
Symphony Orchestra was established in 1917 and for this
performance of Mahler’s Sixth Symphony its usual complement
was increased by almost a third to 105. They were not
all on the stage of the City Hall as the numbers were
too large I assume, and some were on the floor of the
auditorium. The ages of those playing ranged from the
young percussionists of the Salisbury Area Young Musicians
to Jo White, a member of the bass section, who must be
over 80.
I
am sure the orchestra rehearsed very hard for this concert
and they certainly seemed to have developed the playing
style for Mahler. Their conductor, David Halls, conducted
the music in a very forthright manner and seemed at ease
with the large forces in front of him and the demands
of the score.
It
all set off with an appropriately unremitting
heavy
tread, there were some bright colours and the performance
positively embraced any temporary relief from the misery
such as in the tranquil interlude; much praise here to
the young percussionists with triangle, xylophone and
cowbells. Occasionally some of the anguish was more unintentional
than intentional due to unfamiliarity by some with the
music. The Scherzo was also at a slow pace seeming quite
reticent and the climaxes did not shriek as they can though
there some beautiful phrasing in the gentle first trio.
It did set out the case for performing this symphony A/S
because there was a certain restlessness in the audience
because of about 40 minutes of music, which however intense
can have a sense of sameness about it played like this.
The
performance hit its stride with the Andante which moved
at flowing pace and there was warmth and rustic awkwardness
from the orchestra. Best of all was the Finale, from a
disturbingly gloomy opening, it all marched forward with
a strong and measured tread. There was an emotional sweep
to the more lyrical second subject and these sudden moments
of euphoria were punctuated by the exclamations of the
tragedy that was to come. One individual who couldn’t
be missed through the whole performance was Jonathan Hodgetts
behind his huge grand orchestral tuba who had many opportunities
to impose its resonant sound on the ensemble - particularly
here in the final movement. Those who knew the symphony
well realised what was coming, but the awaited event must
have been totally unexpected for those who did not. Yes,
it was the hammer blows! Because of their closeness, they
were better than when heard in a larger hall - three very
sharp, deep ones each having an awesome impact.
The
symphony had all been a grim affair and the reaction of
the audience was so muted that it must have been the result
of head-scratching puzzlement similar to the audience
in Essen in 1906. The conductor and orchestra deserved
better reward for the hours of rehearsal the preparation
must have taken and for their committed performance. I
am sure the musicians were that glad it was all over by
the end, but I am sure too that they wouldn’t have missed
the experience for anything. Because of their willingness
and passion to be involved I was glad I was there too!
Jim Pritchard
