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SEEN
AND HEARD CONCERT REVIEW
Haydn,
Mahler:
Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra/Mariss Jansons, Royal Festival
Hall, 11.11 2007 (MB)
Haydn
– Symphony no.104 in D, ‘London’
Mahler
– Symphony no.5
The
Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra remains a very fine ensemble
indeed. Under its principal conductor, Mariss Jansons, it offered
one of the best performances of a Haydn symphony I have heard in
some time – not that we are overwhelmed with choice in that
respect. Articulation was exemplary: musical rather than indulging
in distorting point-scoring. That sort of thing is irritating
enough when it comes from Nikolaus Harnoncourt, but still worse
when perpetrated by his imitators. Rhythms were spruce; they were
pointed up by Jansons where necessary, but for the most part, he
was happy to let the orchestra do what it could itself. The
strings were allowed to play to their strengths, exhibiting
sweetness and richness of tone without ever cloying or clogging up
the arteries. The woodwind sounded delightful, adding to the
string-based sonority rather than competing with it, and providing
piquant soloistic colour. And the trumpets, horns, and kettledrum
played their parts to perfection. There was once again no undue
exhibitionism, simply fine musicianship, attentive to the rest of
the orchestra and to the conductor, and marvellously pure in tone
(the horns in particular).
The slow introduction to the first movement was relatively fleet,
but was directed in such a way as to make this seem perfectly
natural, its rhythmic and harmonic contours leading up to the
outbreak of the exposition proper. Likewise, the second movement,
admittedly an Andante rather than an Adagio, was
taken at quite a flowing pace. Such was the care taken in phrasing
and in the characterisation of every line, such was the attention
paid to the combination of those lines, harmonically and
contrapuntally, that again this felt just right, even if the
timing on paper might have led one to suspect hurrying. The minuet
was taken, as is now the fashion, one-to-a-bar. This generally
leads to a loss of the stately character of the dance, but the
technique and musicianship of conductor and players ensured that
there was no loss of aristocratic grace. The cross rhythms were
made to tell and there was none of the tedious short-breathed
phrasing that disfigures so many contemporary performances: a
longer line was always palpable. A slight relaxation of tempo for
the trio was well judged. The celebrated drone finale swept all in
its wake: fast but never rushed. Every instrumental line sang
freely and joyfully, yet never merely for itself. Here especially,
the antiphonal division of first and second violins paid
dividends, Haydn’s imitative playfulness registering in delightful
fashion.
Mahler’s fifth symphony received for the most part a duly
thrilling performance. Again, there could be no quarrel with the
standard of orchestral playing, which impressed in every
department, apart from a brief passage at the beginning of the
final movement when some sections sounded a little tired. (One can
certainly sympathise with their predicament.) Special mention
should be made of the first horn and first trumpeter, whose solos
were not only faultless but profoundly moving; there was no doubt
that they understood the meaning behind the notes. The opening
tattoo and its recurrences were ominous indeed. Moreover, the
statements of the chorale, which at various points threatens to
triumph but never quite does, were noble and thrilling: a tribute
to all of the brass in particular. The ghostly pizzicati
from the strings in the third movement were superbly managed, as
was the Viennese Schwung of the final trio section of that
movement. Thinking of the orchestra as a whole, and its direction
from Jansons, an especially notable aspect of this performance was
the bustling counterpoint , partly born of Mahler’s renewed
interest in the music of Bach, and yet so utterly characteristic
of the composer and his language. Not only the balance between
various lines, but also the impetus the sometimes frenetic activity
gives to the symphony’s dramatic arch, were as impressive as I can
recall hearing them.
And yet, the interpretation did not seem to be quite settled. A
noteworthy and commendable aspect was the clear division into
Mahler’s three parts; the second and fifth movements were attacked
immediately, to underline this. However, there were quite a
few passages, which, if they did not quite meander, did not sound
quite so necessary as they might. This was less the case in the
first movement, whose funeral tread mightily impressed, but the
complex Scherzo and the finale seemed – as so often it can, in all
but the greatest performances – a little over-extended. There is a
very difficult balance to strike in the finale, between the
abundance of orchestral and contrapuntal virtuosity and the
overall line, in terms of the movement itself and, even more
trickily, its place in the symphonic whole. Leonard Bernstein, in
his truly great
Vienna
recording, succeeded triumphantly in this as few have done before
or since. Jansons is not there yet, but I have heard far more
uncertain, prolix traversals. The Adagietto was beautiful,
but a little earth-bound. Bernstein shows how it might be both
æthereal and carnal, whilst also serving as an introduction to the
boisterous high spirits of the fifth movement. Here it seemed
somewhat static, the string tone slightly unleavened. The final
characteristic I felt lacking was a sense of modernist adventure.
One of the most enduringly fascinating aspects of Mahler is his
position on the cusp of late Romanticism and the Second Viennese
School. Different interpretations may choose to dwell more on one
or the other, and may vary even within a single interpretation.
However, the knife-edge experience of standing so close to the
expressionist abyss should not be neglected entirely. There were
times when the music sounded more like a presentiment of
Shostakovich, and Mahler is far more ambiguous, far richer than
that.
Whilst it would be an exaggeration to speak of the work being
treated as a concerto for orchestra, this was on occasion the
impression one might have gleaned, owing to the mismatch – which
should not be exaggerated, but which likewise should not be
ignored – between the overall conception and the execution. There
seems to me every reason to believe that Jansons will deepen his
understanding of the work, so that before too long it will rank
with the towering performance I heard of the Sixth Symphony with
the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra in
Salzburg in
2005. But the Fifth is an extremely treacherous work; I recall
hearing Sir Simon Rattle say that he had left it alone for quite a
while, having had his fingers burned early on. Earlier this year,
I heard Daniel Barenboim fall much further short than Jansons,
notwithstanding the fact that Barenboim went on to give extremely
fine performances of the Seventh and Ninth. So there is no shame
whatsoever in there being a longer journey to travel; this, after
all, is part of the challenge and devotion Mahler inspires.
Mark Berry