Mahler, Symphony No 3: Jane Irwin (mezzo-soprano), BBC Symphony Chorus, Choristers of Westminster Cathedral Choir, Jiří Bělohávek (conductor), BBC Symphony Orchestra, Barbican Hall, 4.04.2007  (AO)

 

After hearing Bělohávek’s brilliant, inspired performance of Janáček’s Excursions of Mr Brouček, I was eager to hear what the conductor would do with Mahler’s Third Symphony.  Bělohávek is excellent in Janáček, Smetana and Dvorák, making it all the more reason he might apply insights gleaned from that background to Mahler, who grew up in what is now Jihlava.  Although Mahler’s family identified themselves as German rather than Czech, it would have been impossible for him not to have assimilated something of Bohemian folk culture.

Bělohávek’s interpretation promised much.  The marches in the first movement were meticulously delineated.  Jihlava, or Iglau as it then was, was a military garrison, so military bands would have been an inescapable feature of town life.  As a child, Mahler would have absorbed such music as naturally as other children pick up nursery rhymes.  Thus Bělohávek lovingly conducted every detail. Indeed, so much so that the first movement came over as a catalogue of military marches and figures : gravely paced, as funeral marches should be.   The marking “Schwer und dumpf” (heavy and dull) was most faithfully adhered to.  All proceeded at a carefully measured steady pace.  It was a good image of the world young Mahler would have known : we might even infer that it evoked the ebb and flow of life in a small, regulated barracks town. As scene-painting, this was very convincing, and thoughtful.  On the other hand, with Mahler, things are rarely “just” what they seem.  He used remembered sounds like artists use found objects, incorporating them into his music to evoke different ideas which don’t necessarily link only to their source.  A funeral march in Mahler can lead to something new, not merely to a burial.

His fanfares, for example, serve a purpose.  They are heralds, drawing attention to something important is yet to come.  It’s not just the past that matters but where things are heading.  Something is coming, and it’s coming fast.  Mahler’s original description of this movement was “Summer marches in”.

Perhaps the loving evocation of nostalgia so beautifully captured in this performance was so seductive that it distracted from the longer-term. Everything seemed to progress in an orderly, measured pace.  Even the double bass figures towards the end seemed to tiptoe towards the climax rather than hop and skip in anticipation.  The gentle pace worked well enough in the second movement when pastoral themes are deployed, but even then, there are stronger undertones.  For example, there are references to the song Ablösung im Sommer, and quite explicitly to the chorus “kuk-kuk ist tod” (the cuckoo is dead).   The boisterous, swaggering figures marked lustig and grob themselves herald something important, so it was a pity that in this performance their impact was lessened by the smoothness of delivery. Again, Barbican acoustics spoiled the off-stage posthorn solo, which came across bland and unexpressive.  The posthorn is off-stage because it’s supposed to invoke the sense of distant horizons, music from “beyond” the stage.

Similarly, O Mensch ! failed to ignite.  It’s a song which lends itself to great dramatic portent.  Here it was firm enough, but surprisingly earthbound.  This “tiefe, tiefe” was more matter of fact, the Weh ! coming over as an annoyance, rather than a Nietzschean cry of anguish.  The choirs, on the other hand, rose to the occasion in more ways than one.  So much choral repertoire is powerfully inspirational : so choir singers are used to doing glory and exaltation as a matter of course.  At last, they supplied much of the excitement otherwise sadly muted in this performance.

In the last section, the “Weh” in O Mensch ! transforms to the “Seligheit !” in the chorus.  Mahler wrote that the last section represented a state of “blessed confidence” and certainly Bělohávek’s approach by now was confident, though not as inspired and transcendental as a more provocative reading of the symphony might support.  This was a Mahler of the pleasant countryside rather of towering, mountain peaks.

In this final section, his interest in details and atmosphere brought out the hymn-like anthems in the music very well.  Appropriately, perhaps, he placed much emphasis on the long and complex trombone part.  It does play a prominent role throughout the symphony, creating huge demands on the principal, Helen Vollam.  Bělohávek even moderated the strings and woodwinds to further showcase the trombone parts.  Perhaps this reflected the earlier fascination with the military marches in the first movement, and creates a logical balance.  On the other hand, in hymnal anthems, the instrument evokes other memories in a listener.  It’s an interesting connection. I would be utterly fascinated to hear Bělohávek conduct Charles Ives.

 

Anne Ozorio