Armed with my chunky
1909 Universal Edition score (Kleine
Ausgabe) and Bernstein’s 1986 New York
Phil. recording for comparison (both
‘live’ and both American) I’ve been
treated to a voyage of (re)discovery
through this vast symphony. This new
recording rides high on the shoulders
of its predecessors in this series –
both the 2002 recording of Mahler’s
6th and the 2003 recording
of the 3rd Symphonies having
won Grammy awards. I can immediately
say that this recording of the 7th
has a big ‘wow!’ factor in the sonics
department. If you were looking for
multi-channel Mahler twenty years ago
Lorin Maazel’s 1984 recording with the
Wiener Phil was originally issued by
CBS (now mixed to stereo only on Sony)
as a surround-sound production using
the controversial Calrec ‘Soundfield’
microphone if memory serves correctly.
The San Francisco SACD sound wins for
clarity and definition – hands down.
Bernstein’s opening
is gritty and tense. The dotted, staccato
rhythms are held in a relentless, sustained
grip which promises some kind of fight
to the death. Tilson Thomas has a different
view. By comparison he is the man setting
out on a journey, sometimes almost jauntily,
with a blade of grass between the teeth
– but never quite losing that Mahlerian
sense of funereal foreboding. When the
first ff tutti kicks in the point
begins to sink in: this is all about
narrative and contrast. Bernstein is
wringing every accent and nuance from
the score and we love him for that.
Unfortunately by comparison he is somewhat
scuppered by the DG sound, which by
comparison with the new recording collapses
into a narrow noisiness in the tuttis.
Given that the very
last ounce of Mahlerian angst might
count in Bernstein’s favour, I found
myself returning more and more often,
and with increasing satisfaction to
the new San Francisco recording. There
is no lack of dynamism and drama, and
the incredible detail in the orchestration
is etched into sparkling and gripping
life. Just looking at the first movement:
point to any part of the score, no matter
how apparently small or insignificant
the detail, and it’s there – audible,
but always in balance. Inner voices
and small subtleties are revealed and
given their full function and value,
which for me pays huge dividends. It’s
like a great painting which has been
cleaned for the first time in generations
– restoring and renewing the sense of
awe which such artistic achievement
should engender, rekindling that raw
sense of newness and discovery.
Moving on to the second
movement, Nachtmusik, there is
a little less distinction between the
two versions in question. Tilson Thomas
wins by the sheer refinement of sound
he draws out of the orchestra: take
the antwordend third horn – so
quiet and distant, like the echo from
across a deep valley or chasm. Listen
also to the brass entry after that superb
collapse in downward scales when the
opening theme seems to be dashed to
the floor in petulant panic – sheer
magic.
In the third movement,
Mahler’s ‘sounds of nature’ take on
a nightmare quality, barking at us from
between the pitch-black shadows between
the pine trees. Bernstein’s version
is good of course, but spoiled a little
by a bad-tempered sounding timpani in
the very opening. Tilson Thomas is full
of quiet secrecy, building inexorably.
The string glissandi are staggeringly
well done, and from the gruff croak
of the contrabassoon to the low flutes
the players have all the discipline
of a string quartet. It’s at moments
like this that individual musicians
can ruin a recording, but no-one here
has excessive vibrato, a forced or ugly
tone, dodgy timing or dynamics, or popcorn
articulation.
The fourth movement,
the second Nachtmusik, marked
Andante amoroso is something
of an emotional let-up. I was glad to
hear the guitar for once, working a
little like Renaissance continuo, a
little temporal trick reinforced by
the mandolin which pops out of the orchestral
texture like a mechanical toy. Bernstein’s
opening has the full-on Jewish pleading
violin, his mandolin solos having possibly
slightly less character, but no less
presence. Again, the sound quality in
loud tuttis strangely pinches the soundstage,
moments in which the San Francisco orchestra
expand with a seemingly endless reserve
of sound. It’s also worth pointing out
that there is absolutely no audience
noise – only at the beginning of the
final movement to we get a little hint
of rustling and a distant cough. There
is thankfully also no wild applause
at the end. With the Bernstein recordings
the ‘live’ performances would be patched
up with extra takes, thereby cutting
out excessive audience noise or instrumental
bloopers. An invited audience would
be placed around the orchestra to approximate
the acoustic of a full hall and told
to keep quiet by the maestro - yes,
I was there once! I suspect that this
recording might have had similar treatment,
though with four recording days I’m
sure there would have been enough material
to choose from.
This Mahler 7th
would be my current recommendation to
anyone. The standard of playing and
recording is superb throughout, it has
the terrific advantage of being on a
single disc, makes the best stereo version
I know, and the multi-channel effect
can at times be quite overwhelming.
Tilson Thomas knows how to place the
little Viennese touches perfectly: the
waltzes really dance, and while he has
the lightest of touches with Mahler’s
many moments of playful charm the tuttis
can, where required, be as hard as nails.
He doesn’t impose a grand interpretation
or huge ego onto the music, allowing
the score to speak vehemently for itself.
My only moan is that, sooner or later,
I now know I am going to have to fork
out for the other recordings in this
set and have to put up with the missus’
comments: "but you’ve got a whole
shelf-load of Mahler already…!"
She pronounces it ‘Mailer’, which only
makes it worse. It’s like a good Steinway
piano – there always seems to be that
little extra power in reserve, and even
at full pelt the detail in the recording
is staggeringly transparent. To me,
Mahler’s orchestration and musical message
never sounded so good, and that has
to be worth the money.
Dominy Clements
San Francisco Symphony/Michael Tilson Thomas 
SAN
FRANCISCO SYMPHONY 821936-0009-2 SACD/CD [78.11]
