The sheer magnitude
of Mahler’s eighth symphony is astounding.
With each of his symphonies, Mahler
added more instruments, using more timbres,
and building a larger palette of sounds
from which to work. Until someone actually
sees the full 1028 performers on stage
though, it truly isn’t conceivable just
how large an ensemble this is. Nor is
it truly possible to intuit just how
difficult it can be to take so many
performers and get them to work in concert.
If one is familiar with massed marching
bands or other such combination groups,
it is evident that there is a point
where a group goes from impressively
large to just stupidly big. When you
have too many players, there is no longer
any musicality. The sound produced is
just an aural mash produced by too much
imprecision and too many individuals,
preventing there from being a whole
any longer. Thus Mahler’s VIII is always
an adventure. Done poorly, with more
than 1000 individual musicians each
providing their own little mistakes,
this work is a muddled mess. When done
well, this is, to use the composer’s
own words, a piece where it is as if
"the universe is beginning to sound
and ring. It is no longer human voices,
but circling planets and suns."
There is still much
that is unconventional about the Symphony
of A Thousand, even once one gets
past the size of the performing group.
Rather than the conventional four or
five movements of largely orchestral
music, this work is broken into two
sections of largely vocal writing. The
first is led off with a blast from the
organ, an emphatic statement from the
choirs, and a raucous rip from the lower
brass. From there, solo voices working
to a fugal pattern, explore the Latin
hymn with chorus and symphony providing
support throughout. The second movement
is a slow progression from low, dark
and brooding to bright, angelic music,
providing the framework for what is
essentially an oratorio in German built
on the finale of Dr. Faustus. The two
works are very loosely coupled, with
only tangentially related texts and
musical thoughts. They do not share
a common language or thematic material.
They do, however, complement each other
in orchestration and tonal vocabulary.
The performance is
very good. Robert Shaw does a masterful
job of blending the huge chorus and
orchestra. They seem to be a melded
unit supporting the soloists. Actually,
it seems again somewhat unbelievable
that a group this size can be this agile.
When massed they respond with blistering
volume and aural pyrotechnics that would
impress a rock and roll act. When pared
down to smaller ensembles, they show
a vast variety of timbres and moods
that exemplify what Mahler was driving
towards throughout his career.
However, no matter
how good the performance was, this disc
is not perfect. The recording is quite
well done for the instrumentalists and
soloists. Unfortunately, there are times,
when the entire chorus enters, where
the recording simply cannot do justice
to the live group. Perhaps there were
not enough microphones placed in the
hall. Perhaps they were too near the
soloists, and in an attempt to blend
the room acoustics the choruses lost
their power. Perhaps the engineer was
a bit gun-shy and decided to turn the
massed choirs down. Regardless of the
reason, the effect of the fully massed
choir collective falls down in comparison
to the excellence of the soloists and
orchestra. This clearly is not the fault
of the performers or the conductor.
It seems that there was some technical
limitation that they simply were not
able to overcome.
Even with that caveat,
this is a wonderful performance of Mahler’s
true masterpiece. It may fall short
of the venerable and venerated Chicago
Symphony Orchestra/Solti recording from
1972. That particular recording may
have the greatest assembly of talent
on a single recording of Mahler VIII,
and at least in the first movement is
this recording’s superior. However,
in emotion and sound engineering, I’ll
take the Shaw recording through much
of the second movement. Solti may be
the superior technician, but Shaw is
the superior choral conductor in this
case. Compared to the Bernstein/London
Symphony Orchestra recording from 1966,
I give Shaw the edge on technical wizardry,
but Bernstein’s is potent enough to
give goosebumps. The latter recording
sounds a bit dated, but the chorus is
able to overwhelm the senses at times.
It comes closest to any recording that
I have found to giving the listener
the impression of actually being in
the building during a performance.
Perhaps the truth is
that the effect of 1000 musicians cannot
be captured on a home stereo system.
It is a comforting thought that there
may be something which will always need
to be live in order to truly capture
the majesty of the work. If you are
not familiar with Mahler’s 8th
symphony, this is a very good place
to expose yourself to it. After all,
it is rare that the piece is performed,
especially without a pared down ensemble.
If, on the other hand, you are trying
to capture a moment where the heavens
opened, and you thought (if only for
a second) that this must be the most
magnificent music ever made, this will
tease you. It gives the ‘taste’ of how
wonderful the piece is. It shows you
the outline, lets you smell the scent
... but somehow it doesn’t quite deliver.
The magnitude of the work isn’t as evident.
Fair or not, it’s just not quite as
breathtaking when you have a volume
knob that can be turned down. I suppose
it’s like seeing the Grand Canyon or
Niagara Falls on your TV. You truly
understand why it would be amazing to
see. If you’ve been before, it may help
you recall the experience. It’s just
difficult to claim that this would ever
replace the way you felt when you saw
it live.
Patrick Gary
Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and Chorus/Robert Shaw
