Mahler's Fifth Symphony
dramatises change and contrast over
a huge tripartite structure consisting
of five movements. From the depths of
tragedy at the very start to the heights
of triumph at the very end, every facet
of this bi-polar world is explored in
amazing detail. This is accomplished
sometimes broadly across whole parts
or movements, sometimes microscopically
within movements, the changes from one
extreme of emotion to the other existing
side by side within a few bars. A great
performance not only makes all these
contrasts felt but also welds them into
an unforgettable whole. There really
are no harder calls for the conductor
in the Mahler canon with a special kind
of alchemy needed to touch every nerve
of the work. I must tell you at the
start that James DePreist simply does
not have that alchemy in this super
bargain recording from Naxos.
The clincher for this
view lies in his performance of the
crucial third movement. This is a long
and deliciously meandering Scherzo where
the symphony seems to have achieved
a kind of plateau from the storms and
stresses of the first two movements.
But don't be deceived. Mahler is showing
us nothing less than life itself with
all its pleasures and foibles and the
contrasts that this work are all about
are there still to be heard. They are
just not as marked or extreme as elsewhere.
Through this movement we will emerge
changed beyond recognition and the final
two movements will be made possible
by it, will be made to make sense
by it. Something you will only appreciate
when you have heard a great performance.
In terms of simple clock timing James
DePreist conducts what is the second
slowest performance of this third movement
on record and here lies part of the
problem. If a conductor is to perform
a very slow overall performance of this
movement - like Bernstein who is a bare
thirty seconds faster than DePreist,
or Wyn Morris who is a bare twenty seconds
slower and therefore the longest of
them all - then he is going, like both
of them, to have to be aware that there
must be significant variations in tempo
and phrasing within and between each
of the episodes in order to keep the
ear of the listener engaged and interested
right through. This is rather like a
great story-teller who would vary his
tone and delivery. DePreist, however,
decides on his very slow tempo at the
start and he sticks to it - doggedly,
unremittingly and slavishly to such
an extent that I was bored by the music
when it was barely a third of the way
through. It never seems to vary and
so lacks completely any of the story-telling
involvement that is so crucial. There
is even the feeling for me that the
LSO are champing at the bit to be allowed
to bend themselves around the music
more and press on. Sadly DePreist's
leaden grip is just a dead hand on the
reins, stifling any of the little dashes
of humour, moments of reflection, flashes
of light and elemental energy that suffuses
Mahler's inspiration. If you needed
illustration that it is the presentation
of each contrasting episode rather than
overall tempo that counts then look
no further than the recording by Bruno
Walter. His is the fastest performance
of this movement (and of the whole symphony)
on record. Yet he manages to convey
every little twist and turn at every
moment and this leaves you as changed
as the symphony itself changes. Bernstein
and Walter understand what this music
is all about, how it works, what makes
it tick, and they bring their own different
stamps with the same result. DePreist
does not.
The outer movements
under DePreist are more conventionally
played, though it has to be said that
they are not especially outstanding
when compared with long-standing recommendations.
The first movement is soundly presented
with a good, though not especially memorable,
funeral march. I have known less powerful
dramatic thrusts midway, but I have
certainly known more powerful ones too
- think Frank Shipway's recording for
real hysteria. The treacherous second
movement comes off quite well though
Barshai and Bernstein, to name but two,
are far more daring, far more the risk-takers
here, and this kind of approach is more
appropriate. This furious music with
its solitary meditation in the middle
and its "false" chorale climax
has brought better conductors than DePreist
to grief, but I have the impression
that the LSO is more in control of events
than their conductor. The Adagietto
fourth movement breaks the ten minute
barrier but I have heard a lot slower
versions than this and even though,
like many people these days, I do think
the overall clock timing should be quicker,
the strings of the LSO do DePreist proud
with an eloquent and moving passage
of repose. The last movement is, like
the second, efficiently played and reaches
a satisfying enough climax after good
recalls of the Adagietto. But by then
the damage has already long been done
by that dire third movement which no
amount of fine, solid playing from the
LSO elsewhere, or the bright, rich recording
from Abbey Road will save.
At super-bargain price
on Brilliant Classics (92205) you can
get Rudolf Barshai (coupled with his
own performing edition of the Tenth)
and it is his Mahler Fifth that still
remains my own favourite . But I still
go back also to Rudolf Schwarz on Everest
(EVC9032), Barbirolli on EMI (CDM5 669102),
Bernstein on DG (452 416-2), Frank Shipway
on Membran (222845) and, of course,
that remarkable Walter version on Sony
(SMK 64451). Any or all of these will
give you a performance of this remarkable
work to last you a lifetime and still
leave not too big a dent in your bank
account.
In a fiercely competitive
list, this very ordinary performance
from DePreist is completely ruled out
of consideration by a plodding Scherzo
that just bores. And boring is
the last thing that Mahler should be.
Tony Duggan
London Symphony Orchestra/James DePreist 
