In the preamble to my recent review of Jonathan Nott’s 
    
Mahler 
    Sixth I noted that his traversal of these symphonies - only No. 10 and 
    
Das Lied von der Erde still to come - has been somewhat erratic. That 
    Sixth was particularly disappointing, although I still maintain that his Bamberg 
    
Resurrection (
review) 
    deserves a place in the pantheon of great Mahler recordings. Given his patchy 
    record to date can amends be made with the Eighth? He faces stiff competition 
    from the likes of Horenstein (BBC Legends) and Gielen (Sony and Hänssler), 
    and despite irreparable distortion in parts Solti’s classic Decca account 
    burns with renewed heat in this high-res download from Linn/Universal (
review). 
    
      
    There are several stand-out performances of the Eighth on DVD/Blu-ray: Tennstedt 
    (DVD only), Wit (Blu-ray Audio) and Dudamel’s highly theatrical Caracas 
    account (
review). 
    On balance I’d say the latter is probably the most satisfying Mahler 
    8 video available at the moment. It certainly eclipses Chailly’s Gewandhaus 
    version (
review). 
    Coming back to Nott and his Bambergers, what I want from their Eighth is the 
    same urgency, flair and unerring sense of drama that drives their 
Resurrection; 
    a tall order perhaps, but a heartfelt one nonetheless. 
      
    I’m delighted to report that Hrabanus’s great choral invocation 
    at the start has plenty of sweep, and although the organ is rather discreet 
    the overall sound is warm and wide-ranging. Balances are good too, with the 
    soloists spread realistically from left to right. Most welcome, though, is 
    Nott’s firm grip on the music; he may not aspire to the febrile intensity 
    of Solti or Horenstein, but he compensates for that with passages of unexpected 
    inwardness and a fine ear for Mahler’s distinctive sonorities. Yes, 
    there are some unusual percussion sounds - Wit also has a few - but that hardly 
    matters when everything flows and segues so well. The soloists are pretty 
    decent, and the various choirs are weighty and incisive throughout. 
      
    One of the real strengths of Nott’s Part I is his attention to the quieter 
    moments, the smaller details of which are often subsumed by this great welter 
    of notes. That, combined with the clarity that distinguishes his 
Resurrection, 
    makes for an utterly compelling start to this ambitious symphony. Admittedly 
    his spacious reading - some might even say it’s sluggish - won’t 
    please everyone. I would have preferred greater momentum, but the oases of 
    calm more than make up for that. Those qualities also inform the half-lit 
    world of Part II; Nott invests these landscapes with the same raptness and 
    intimacy of scale, and there’s a heightened sense of wonder in the long 
    orchestral introduction that’s very impressive indeed. 
      
    Listening to this recording for the second time I was slightly less accommodating 
    of Nott’s leisurely pace which, remarkably, doesn’t compromise 
    the performance nearly as much as you might think. I suppose what really strikes 
    me here is the direct and unambiguous narrative, devoid of unnecessary embellishments 
    or distracting detours. Often graceful but gnarly too, Nott’s rendering 
    of this Faustian ramble is always enthralling. As for the Bambergers they 
    respond to his every demand with precision and poise, while the soloists create 
    - and sustain - an air of communion that’s profoundly affecting. 
      
    Other sets may offer more distinguished singers but I must single out Stefan 
    Vinke, whose Doctor Marianus is sung with a rare blend of passion and intelligence. 
    All the while Nott ensures the pulse never falters, and tempo relationships 
    are deftly managed. The performance is lucidly recorded too; indeed, the chamber-like 
    episodes bloom and breathe in a way they seldom do elsewhere. In that context 
    Mahler is akin to Berlioz, whose large-scale works also conceal so much that 
    is light and lovely. Some may feel that Nott focuses too much on these touches, 
    but I have no problem with that; in fact, I relished the chance to simply 
    stand and stare. 
      
    One of the tests of a successful performance of this symphony is how quickly 
    and seamlessly Part II passes. All too often those long spans sag and bulge 
    - Chailly and Boulez come to mind - but Nott remains reassuringly robust throughout. 
    It’s all about the work's great beams and supporting buttresses, and 
    this conductor pays due attention to both. Indeed, it's that structural certainty 
    - the edifice has been so meticulously crafted - that gives the closing pages 
    their strength and gratifying shape. No rhetorical flourishes or rude blasts 
    here, just sure and steady progress towards that transcendent finale. 
      
    Rivals are more visceral towards the end, Dudamel especially so; true, some 
    may find Nott’s unhurried approach somewhat frustrating, but that’s 
    his way with this sprawling score. Under his clear-eyed direction the symphony 
    seems remarkably compact and self-contained, and that gives the performance 
    a very human scale and character. Nott's Eighth wouldn’t be my first 
    choice - it’s not in the same league as his 
Resurrection - but 
    it has more than enough attractions to warrant a space on your shelves. At 
    the end of my review of that unsuccessful Sixth I wondered whether he’d 
    redeem himself in the Eighth. On balance I think he has. 
      
    Notable for its detail and intimacy; refreshingly different. 
      
    
Dan Morgan 
    http://twitter.com/mahlerei 
    
      
    Notable for its detail and intimacy; refreshingly different.
    
    Masterwork Index: 
Mahler 8