Naxos has a large
number of complete, or ongoing, cycles of one sort or another
in its catalogue and many of them can stand comparison with
the best. Unfortunately the Mahler symphony cycle hasn’t been
one of them, at least the ones I’ve caught, where my general
impression has been to agree with the critics who’ve dubbed
them ‘worthy’ or ‘honest’. It appears the cycle has been shared
out between Michael Halasz and Antoni Wit and it has to be
said that the highest praise has been reserved so far for
4 and 6, both conducted by Wit and neither of which I’ve heard.
Coming completely
fresh, as it were, to this Eighth, I have to say I have been
quite surprisingly bowled over, so much so it makes me want
to get hold of those other Wit Mahler recordings. I know what
a dynamic yet thoughtful conductor he can be from loads of
other Naxos discs, notably the Lutosławski and Penderecki
series (perhaps understandable), his superb accompaniments
for the Prokofiev and Rachmaninov concertos, to say nothing
of his recent and universally praised Alpine Symphony.
All those recordings
prove what a superb orchestral technician he is, coaxing playing
of great virtuosity from a variety of ensembles but caring
deeply about balance, texture and sonority. So it is with
this Eighth, where one of the immediate delights is the welter
of huge but controlled sound that bursts forth from the speakers,
pinning you back with its force but never rushed or hard driven.
In fact, I have to praise his choice of tempos throughout,
fast enough to be exciting but never tipping over into a breakneck,
hell-for-leather mess. The choral contribution is the other
immediate delight, full-toned and resonant, never squally
or vibrato-laden but tight, disciplined and, in fact, inspired.
This ‘Veni Creator Spiritus’ is, to quote Deryck Cooke, a
‘great confident shout to the skies’ but Wit always understands
that this opening motif is the basic seed for the entire work
and that this is a first movement allegro, not the
climax. There is a whole symphony to go and Wit makes sure
that we don’t get overkill too soon. This in turn means managing
the many tricky gearshifts and tempo fluctuations, something
he achieves with a consummate skill that is, to my ears, the
most convincing since Tennstedt. The flow is never broken
even when Mahler keeps slipping ‘etwas zögend’ (somewhat hesitating)
or ‘nicht schleppend’ (not dragging) into the mix. The great
double fugue that starts at ‘Ductore sic te praevio’ is thrilling,
with every strand of the complex contrapuntal texture vital
and crystal clear, but then that goes for the whole movement.
The closing pages, from ‘Gloria Patri Domino’, where the overlapping
choral entries are flung out like shooting stars, feel truly
earned in this performance, and if Wit refuses to press on
as quickly as Solti, it is no less exciting; indeed, it felt
to me possibly even more noble and euphoric for holding its
ground and resisting the temptation to spill over into the
hysterical. It should also be mentioned here that the important
organ part sounds naturally integrated into the whole sound
spectrum rather than planted on later, as some versions suffer
from.
The same goes
for Part 2, whose opening prelude is as atmospheric as any
I’ve heard, recorded or live. The orchestral playing has a
luminous sheen, especially the strings, that is quite wonderful
and keeping a steady pace brings out a wealth of textural
detail, especially in the woodwind. Later Wit begins to move
the pace on towards the scherzo section (women’s and boys’
voices) and thereafter builds an inexorable momentum that
finds its natural release in ‘Alles Vergängliche’, true symphonically-shaped
conducting rather than episode by episode.
The very special
choral contribution has been mentioned and the soloists are
not far behind. Timothy Bentch’s Doctor Marianus copes heroically
with the cruel tessitura, still managing to shape the words
and phrases more convincingly than some tenors. Of the sopranos
Marta Boberska has the most radiant timbre but the others
do not really disappoint, and only Piotr Novacki’s Pater Profundis
has anything approaching a real wobble among the entire cast.
The engineers
work miracles in capturing this whole spectacle with warmth,
fullness and precision. Nothing is falsely highlighted, something
you can’t quite say about the Solti, and this sound quality
is easily the equal of Sinopoli’s beautifully recorded DG
version. Talking of other performances, there’s no doubt the
Solti holds a special place among classic Eighths, especially
so now it is on one lower mid-price Decca disc. The Sinopoli
comes on a DG twofer (with the Tenth Adagio) so is also cheap,
as is the Tennstedt, currently coupled with No.4 as an EMI
Great Recording of the Century. These have for a while been
my personal benchmarks as I haven’t heard recent notable additions
to the catalogue from Chailly and Rattle. If Naxos could just
have squeezed this onto one disc (maybe just possible these
days) this would have been a world-beater. As it is, it’s
still exceptional value given the standard of the music-making
on offer and serious Mahlerians really should hear it.
Tony Haywood
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Barbara Kubiak (soprano)
Magna Peccatrix; Izabela Klosinska (soprano) Una Poenitentiam;
Marta Boberska (soprano) Mater Gloriosa; Jadwiga Rappé (mezzo-soprano)
Mulier Samaritana; Ewa Marciniec (mezzo) Maria Aegyptiaca;
