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SEEN
AND HEARD CONCERT REVIEW Mozart
and Mahler: Janine Jansen (violin) Philharmonia
Orchestra, Jukka-Pekka Saraste (conductor) Royal Festival
Hall, 8.11. 2007 (GD) Mahler: Symphony No 6 in A
minor
Mozart: Violin Concerto No 5 in A, K219
Tonight' s concert
opened with a quite traditional performance of Mozart’s last
Violin Concerto, Saraste deploying a largish string compliment.
Miss Jansen played the solo part with a minimum of ornamentation
and overt vibrato although the cadenza she chose to play in the
last movement was a curiously elaborate unidiomatic Nineteenth
century sounding affair. Saraste accompanied in a quite crisp and
dutiful manner although his overall contribution lacked the
rhythmic/dynamic élan which Peter Maag used to bring to this work.
Also, Saraste did not arrange his violins antiphonally thus
robbing us of the mellifluous counterpoint and interplay heard
particularly in the ‘Adagio’. In this, Miss Jansen started
to sound a little contrived and bland and a little too keen to
underline certain virtuoso points. Both soloist and conductor
failed to invest the last movements ‘Turkish’ music with the
rhythmic thrust required.
Mahlerians today tend to count the Sixth symphony as one of the
composer’s ‘greatest’ works; if not his ‘greatest’ single
achievement. But seen from another perspective, the Sixth
has been the subject of all manner of controversy from the time of
its first performance under Mahler in 1906. Did Mahler
intend the third, final catastrophic hammer blow in the the very
long finale, restored tonight by Saraste? Should the
‘Andante moderato’ constitute the second or third movement In
juxtapostion to the ‘Scherzo’ ? Saraste adhered to the more recent
convention of placing the andante as third movement, despite
evidence that Mahler preferred the more logically dynamic
deployment of it as the second, with the scherzo as third
movement. Two of Mahler’s most pioneering protégé’s Walter and
Klemperer, chose never to perform the work; Walter finding
it too sentimental and over the top in general; and Klemperer
simply claiming (ironically?) never to have ‘understood’ it.
Overall, Saraste gave an unmannered and
straightforward rendition of the work tonight, eschewing the more
‘romantic’ and rhetorical interpretive excesses that this
symphony is open to. But overall, his reading lacked a
certain inner dramatic conviction making the symphony sound at
times more like a series of elaborated orchestral effects than
anything approaching a coherent narrative structure which -
Mahler saw as ‘all important’ if Bruno Walter is to be believed.
The opening rhythmic figure in the string bass was quite well
judged in terms of tempo, but this was not sustained
throughout the movement; the coda’s mock triumphant fanfares
lacking Boulez' rhythmic finesse and having no sense of
release, of dynamic energy in reserve. Saraste paid meticulous
attention to detail (often in the orchestra’s upper register) -
though harps, xylophone, and cow-bells were often too loud and
intrusive - at the expense of the lower registers. I listened in
vain for the ‘Heavy, pronounced’ march tread the composer asks for
in the strings, especially double-basses, and the important
timpani part -which links rhythmically to the finale - was
curiously reticent. These problems of orchestral balance and
clarity were not helped by Saraste’s decision not to deploy the
orchestral lay-out that Mahler had in mind when composing the
symphony with antiphonal violins and double-basses either in a row
at the back of the orchestra, or on the the left-hand side. Too
often Saraste lacked that sense of tonal/dynamic/rhythmic contrast
which subtends the contours of both this movement and the long
last movement; tonight, especially in the brass chorale
figurations of these two outer movements, the brass just trundled
out the music all at the same strident level, often obliterating
important accompanying woodwind detail.
The two middle movements, although played in questionable order,
were delivered more successfully than the outer movements. The
‘Andante moderato’ in particular was sustained at the andante pace
asked for by the composer and was free from interpretative
impositions - thus emphasising the the music's noble and slightly
fractured elegaic quality. But again I missed that balancing of
the dialectic between formal structure and emotional content,
so important in Mahler and which conductors like Rosbaud and
Gielen brought and still bring off so well.
The Hoffmannesque ‘Scherzo’was quite rhythmically adroit, Saraste
paying especial attention to the poignant parody of the graceful
minuet rococo style of the trio section, reminding us that the
preceding work in the concert was by Mozart. Here, the strings and
woodwinds played with great delicacy and finesse.
But again I was at a loss to detect Mahler’s ‘Wuchtig’,’ weighty,
rhythms. The Philharmonia’s string section now play far more
politely than they did in the late Sixties as the ‘New
Philharmonia’ under Barbirolli, who certainly understood the
meaning of ‘Wuchtig’ in this work. He would not have
tolerated the patches of messy ensemble heard tonight in the brass
and strings. At times Saraste merely directed the outward contour
of the scherzo failing to punctuate Mahler's many zig-zagging
rhythms and sudden ‘uncanny’ off-beat dynamic figurations,
rhythmic clusters and tattoos.
Although Saraste chose a good initial tempo (‘Allegro moderato’)
for the Fourth movement finale, he failed to adhere to Mahler’s
‘Sostenuto’ marking. At times, the movement dragged, at
others it seem to lose all direction and sagged, seriously,
especially at the crucial climaxes which unleash the massive
constellations of minor key brass chorales, the wild
swirling wind figurations and fatal hammer blows. In conducting
terms, it is a question of carefully gauging these cardinal
climaxes, on which the whole huge edifice is structured and
hangs together, in a way that adheres to the baroque and
contrapuntally complex intermediary music and ultimately to the
whole work: it's a question again of balancing the dialectic
of the huge formal structure with its dramatic/rhetorical content.
The disputed third hammer blow which occurs just before the last
desolate statement of the symphony’s rhyhthmic/chorale motto
theme/coda, sounded but simply failed to make its full impact, not
simply as a forceful sound, but as a unified dramatic effect
helping to compound the coda’s grim mood of exhaustion and
desolation. Here, when the latter came too prominently in
the movement, the impact had been lost for it to make
the proper and crucially important effect. Not really a coda
in the classic symphonic sense, this is a dramatic statement of
trauma which should leave the audience and performers devastated.
Tonight, quite some time before this passage concluded,
I was thinking about the best exit from the hall from which to
catch the bus home.
Geoff Diggines