RECORDING OF THE MONTH
Gustav MAHLER (1860-1911)
Symphony No. 1 in D major
(1888, rev. 1896) [53:25]
Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks/Yannick Nézet-Séguin
rec. live, 26-27 June 2014, Herkulessaal, Munich, Germany
BR KLASSIK 900143 [53:25]
The Québec-born conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin is something
of a conundrum. I was very impressed by his debut with the Berliner Philharmoniker
a few years ago – available to watch via The Digital Concert Hall –
but his subsequent recordings have been variable to say the least. I didn’t
care for his idiosyncratic Symphonie fantastique or his misjudged
Heldenleben, both with the Netherlands Radio Philharmonic; however,
he made amends with fine accounts of Poulenc’s Organ Concerto and Saint-Saëns’
Third Symphony (review).
Dominy Clements was very complimentary about this conductor’s recent
Mahler Tenth - review
- but despite a fresh and wonderfully allusive first movement I found the
performance very uneven.
Trouble is, there’s just so much competition where Mahler is concerned;
even No. 10, in its various performing versions, has done quite well in recent
years. However, it’s No. 1 that’s still the most popular, with
around 160 versions listed in the catalogue. The last two recordings of the
First to come my way were Lorin Maazel’s on Signum
and Thierry Fischer’s on Reference;
alternately perverse and just plain dull neither comes even close to ousting
old favourites. Among them are James Levine (RCA-Sony), Leonard Bernstein
(CBS-Sony and Deutsche Grammophon) and, in particular, the live Klaus Tennstedt
(BBC
Legends). These are all confident, insightful performances that, even
after all this time, can’t fail to immerse and excite.
One shouldn’t overlook Rafael Kubelik’s 1967 studio version –
part of his complete traversal for DG
– or his live 1979 one for Audite.
His direct, unsentimental approach to Mahler may seem a trifle restrained
compared with, say, that of the more volatile Bernstein, but there’s
no denying the venerable Czech has a very special way with this music. In
both recordings of the First he’s helped in no small measure by the
peerless playing of ‘his’ Bavarians; clearly this is a band with
impeccable credentials, but can that history work in Nézet-Séguin’s
favour as well?
Emphatically, yes. The symphony’s mysterious opening has a thrilling
sense of anticipation, while the all-important horns are beautifully blended
and atmospherically placed. Then again all these players respond to this glorious
score with such ease and affection. As if that weren’t enough the recording
is warm, deep and nicely detailed. Nézet-Séguin gets the tempo relationships
just right, and that allows the narrative to unfold in the most natural and
seamless way. Moreover, those ear-pricking epiphanies – the cuckoo calls,
the moment our hero steps from gloom to glade – are superbly done. Internal
balances are very well judged, too.
Goodness, this is shaping up to be an exceptional First, so full of apt imagination
and bucolic charm. The Bavarian Radio engineers certainly know their stuff;
perspectives are believable, tuttis are suitably expansive and Mahler's telling
instrumental touches are as clear as one could wish. Take those quiet bass-drum
thuds, so often obscured or just too prominent; I simply can’t recall
a performance where they have such a subtle yet hair-raising presence as they
do here. As a reading Nézet-Séguin's reminds me of Tennstedt's: both are taut,
colourful, ideally shaped and very idiomatic.
It just gets better. The rhythms of the Ländler-laced second movement
are beautifully sprung and the narrative thread remains unbroken throughout.
Happily, there’s less of the dynamic manipulation – exaggerated
contrasts, over-inflected phrases – that spoilt Nézet-Séguin's Berlioz
and Strauss for me. Yes, there are glimpses of that bend and tweak in the
darkly fantastical cortège; that said, it’s not too intrusive. More
important, Nézet-Séguin’s fairly brisk but finely nuanced reading doesn’t
sacrifice the music’s essential strangeness. Incidentally, those very
audible tam-tam shivers are just marvellous, bringing extra tingle to the
mix.
The finale gets off to a truly thunderous start – what pent-up tension
and, oh, what a splendid bass drum – and thereafter Nézet-Séguin doesn’t
let up. His unearthing skills – so amply demonstrated in his probing
account of the Poulenc concerto – are just as useful here. In particualr
it’s the more inward moments that thrilled and moved me most, for they’re
meltingly done. The Bavarian strings are as silky as one could wish, but it’s
the orchestra’s enviable blend of aristocracy and latent atavism that
really defines the performance at this point. There’s none of the sag
or striations that disfigure lesser readings; in that respect this finale
is very like Levine’s,
which also has uncommon clarity and impetus.
Even more remarkable is the fact that Nézet-Séguin’s Mahler 1 is rooted
in such life-giving soil, and that's something one doesn’t sense with,
say, Maazel or Fischer. Indeed, this new recording is a welcome reminder of
just how fecund this score really is. What a pleasure it is when – as
here – the conductor metaphorically plunges his hands deep into the
dark loam, revelling in its richness and promise. Nézet-Séguin and his orchestra
build to a truly seismic close, the Bavarians playing with all the passion
and power they can muster. Not surprisingly the engineers cope admirably with
it all. The applause has been edited out, but if I'd been there I'd have roared
my approval.
An electrifying Mahler First, superbly played and recorded; one of the best
things I’ve heard this year.
Dan Morgan
twitter.com/mahlerei
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