This set, first released in 1998, makes a welcome reappearance
in the catalogue, the reissue inspired, perhaps, by the Mahler
anniversary celebrations. On several occasions I have reviewed
discs that have already been appraised for MusicWeb International
by other reviewers. However, on this occasion I approach the
task with some trepidation for on opening this box I find that
the booklet note consists of nothing less than the 2000 review
for MusicWeb by our leading Mahler writer, Tony Duggan. His
comments on this set have replaced the note by William R Trotter,
the biographer of Mitropoulos, which appeared first time round.
The earliest of the performances here is the Third Symphony.
It will be noted that the timing for the whole performance is
a mere 78:35 and from that you may well deduce that the score
is not presented complete. Alas, that’s the case. Tony Duggan
surmises, correctly, I’m sure, that the performance had to be
squeezed into the time available for a radio broadcast. As a
result, swingeing cuts are made in the first and last movements
and some of the speeds Mitropoulos adopts are eccentrically
brisk. What a shame that Music & Arts were unable to include
instead the Cologne performance that Mitropoulos gave on 31
October 1960 – the very last concert he conducted. That performance
presents the score complete and, I’m sure gives a proper representation
of his way with the symphony. Moreover, the sung contributions
are in German, as they should be, whereas an English translation
is used for the New York account. Some idea of the truncation
of the score in this New York account can be gained by comparing
the timings of the two performances:-
|
New York |
Cologne |
I |
25:32 |
34:24 |
II |
7:39 |
9:11 |
III |
13:35 |
15:38 |
IV |
8:56 |
9:23 |
V |
4:31 |
5:10 |
VI |
18:08 |
20:47 |
Total |
78:35 |
94:32 |
Given these drawbacks you might feel that this mutilated torso
of the symphony need not detain us long but I’m not so sure.
For one thing the playing of the NYPO is very fine indeed. Furthermore,
on reflection perhaps we shouldn’t be too censorious about the
cuts or the use of English. If compromises had to be made to
accommodate the national radio schedules I wonder if, back in
1956 that wasn’t acceptable; how else would someone living in,
say, rural Virginia or Kansas have an opportunity to hear this
work? And English may well have been used for the benefit of
radio listeners, who would not have access to the text and a
translation. As it happens, the 1960 Cologne performance has
just been issued on another label and I’ll be reviewing it very
shortly so admirers of this conductor can invest in this present
box safe in the knowledge that they can now also acquire that
complete reading of the score.
The pace at the start of I is pretty brisk and one can’t escape
the feeling that the music is being rushed. However, the playing
is very fine – the big trombone solo (from 6:03) is excellent.
Though I started off being frustrated by the cuts – and remained
so – the sheer energy of the performance draws one in. Incidentally,
the audience applauds at the end of the movement. The brisk
pacing continues into II and here, I’m afraid, the music does
suffer: for much of the time the interpretation sounds rather
matter of fact and there’s little charm in evidence. However,
III is light and lithe and the posthorn solos (from 5:08) are
well done, if a trifle hasty. Bernstein’s 1961 recording remains
the benchmark here. Beatrice Krebs sings well in IV and Mitropoulos
achieves a suitable degree of mystery.
In V, as Tony Duggan comments, it sounds as if the uncredited
choir is singing “boing-boing” at the start. The boys’ choir
is quite good but the ladies sound a bit matronly and their
words are unintelligible. The pace set by the conductor is fresh
and lively. Mitropoulos finds nobility and expansiveness in
the finale – though here, too, there are cuts – and the orchestral
lines are impressively sustained. A lovely flute solo (12:31)
paves the way for the trumpets to begin (at 13:17) the ascent
to the final apotheosis. Mahler’s great D major ending is imposing
and draws an ovation. Despite the obvious drawbacks this performance
of the Third is worth hearing.
Chronologically, the next performance is that of the Sixth.
I discussed this in some detail in a review
in 2004, to which I refer readers, and I haven’t changed my
opinion. It’s a shattering account of this symphony though it
won’t be to all tastes. Mitropoulos omits the exposition repeat
in the first movement, which I regret, but he places the Andante
third, which I applaud. There is another Mitropoulos recorded
performance available; it comes from 1955 and is a live performance
with the NYPO. Tony Duggan prefers the New York account; and,
on balance I now agree with him, if only on account of the quality
of the NYPO playing However, it should be noted that in 1955
Mitropoulos placed the Andante second – though, consistent with
this Cologne performance, he left out the exposition repeat
in the first movement. The NYPO offers better playing – the
Cologne players are audibly tiring towards the end, though they
play with enormous commitment throughout. On the other hand,
so far as I know, the 1955 account is only available in a very
expensive Mahler boxed set on the NYPO’s own label (review).
Since I think the EMI set in which I first encountered this
performance is long deleted the attraction of having it in the
present Music & Arts box is very great. In his note Tony
wonders whether Music & Arts may have re-ordered the second
and third movements but I don’t think so. Since Tony wrote that
note EMI
have also issued this Cologne performance and there too the
scherzo comes second. So I suspect both this and the 1955 recording
report accurately what Mitropoulos did on each occasion and
that he simply changed his mind in the intervening period. And,
by the way, I still can’t hear the cowbells in this recording.
Next we have a clutch of recordings of performances given at
the New York Philharmonic’s Mahler centenary festival in 1960.
The first of these, in order of performance, is the Fifth.
There’s tremendous weight and foreboding at the start of I and
Mitropoulos sustains the power and drama superbly through what
is an electrifying reading of this funeral march. This is a
most impressive, doom-laden account of the movement with the
NYPO providing high-octane playing. Perhaps the first trumpet’s
bright, vibrant tone is too much of a good thing at times -
try the passage from 5:32. This remarkable performance of the
movement is as searing as I’ve heard; it must have rocked the
audience back. The intensity – vehemence, even – is carried
over into II. Despite a few rough edges, the NYPO rise to their
conductor’s fearsome demands – only a virtuoso orchestra could
play the music like this, especially as far back as 1960. When
the chorale arrives in all its grandeur (11:04 – 12:14) it’s
as if the clouds have parted to reveal a shaft of sunlight after
all the preceding angst.
As Tony Duggan very fairly points out, the interpretation goes
somewhat awry in III, which is, as he says, a “pivot” in the
symphony’s structure. It’s as if the conductor failed to appreciate
that the symphony, though in five movements, is cast in three
parts, of which the scherzo is the second. Mitropoulos overlooks
the qualification ‘nicht zu schnell’ at the head of the movement
and sets a fast pace. As a result the music is rather fierce
and unsmiling. He does relax occasionally (for example between
2:20 and 3:14) but otherwise it’s all a bit unremitting and
there’s little evidence of good humour. The playing is far from
flawless in this movement – one wonders if the players were
uncomfortable. The important first horn part is very well played,
however - sample the passage between 13:24 and 14:35. There
are some moments of great exuberance (such as 11:08 – 11:24)
and I wonder if this was what Mitropoulos was seeking to convey
overall. I’m not sure I’d quite agree with Tony Duggan’s verdict
that this reading means that the performance as a whole is “fatally
wounded” but it’s still a major disappointment after the first
two movements have been touched by greatness.
The famous Adagietto – not, perhaps, quite so famous
in those pre-Death in Venice days – is treated very expansively
and intensely and the lines are sustained superbly by the NYPO
strings. I prefer this movement to flow a bit more but there’s
no denying the depth of feeling in this performance. There are
plenty of high spirits in V – and more virtuoso playing. This
account of the movement is exuberant and dynamic. The reappearance
of the chorale (15:14-15:37) is a moment of triumph before the
breakneck – but controlled – dash for the finish line. Despite
my reservations over the reading of III I’m profoundly glad
to have heard this gripping account of the Fifth and especially
the shattering performance of its first two movements.
A week later came the performance of the First Symphony.
Here, unfortunately, is another example of the insensitivity
of at least a section of the New York audience; their bronchial
coughing is a serious distraction at times in this performance
and in the others. Some coughers do their best to disrupt the
pregnant, tense opening of I – but don’t quite succeed. Overall,
Mitropoulos sets a good, natural tempo for the main allegro,
though there are some instances of point-making where he slows
down in a way I don’t entirely care for. The reading of II is
a touch on the fierce side and the phrasing of the trio (2:39-5:11)
is a bit mannered with a surfeit of little hesitations and surges.
The tuning and tone of the double-bass solo at the start of
III is rather queasy, though this may be by design, and once
again the coughers make their mark. Despite their intrusive
contributions, the tension and sense of foreboding that Mitropoulos
achieves as Mahler’s canonic treatment of the simple tune builds
up is impressive. The ‘Lindenbaum’ episode (5:31-7:08) is well
played; the melody on the violins is beautiful, really light
in texture and with just the right degree of sentiment.
The finale is indeed ‘Stürmisch’. The music is unleashed like
a tornado. The orchestra plays with white hot energy and it’s
all hugely exciting. Yet despite the frenetic assault of the
music the pace is controlled well. The memorable expansive episode
in D flat major (3:48–6:22) is warmly inflected – the NYPO strings
are superb hereabouts – but Mitropoulos doesn’t make a meal
of the passage and allies ardour with momentum. The reprise
of the opening tumult (6:50) is electrifying. The orchestra
plays this movement like men possessed – whether the dynamic
is pp or fff. The conclusion (from 17:14) is incendiary,
though the conductor elongates the tempo a bit more than most
from 18:04. The final two chords, which can be something of
a damp squib, sound like whip lashes, bringing, to an end a
hugely committed, if provocative, reading.
Eight days later Mitropoulos played the Adagio from Mahler’s
Tenth – remember, this was before Deryck Cooke’s performing
version of the composer’s sketches for the whole symphony saw
the light of day. A fine interpretation is compromised somewhat
by the contributions of another inconsiderately bronchial audience.
I can only concur with Tony Duggan’s view that this is a very
good account of the movement and that the NYPO rises to the
occasion with some excellent playing – listen to the ripe moment
when the horns reinforce the melodic line at 5:10. I think that
Simon Rattle, with his fastidious attention to detail, has subsequently
brought more light and shade to this music but Mitropoulos’s
intensity is compelling; he conducts as if his life depends
on it. The great climax (17:41-18:50), with its grinding chords
and piercing trumpet, is savage and then the dying away to the
end of the piece, superbly managed by Mitropoulos, has genuine
pathos – despite the volley of coughing.
The last of these New York performances came a few days later
when Mitropoulos gave the Ninth. Tony Duggan is right
to praise the clarity achieved by the conductor in the first
movement – I presume he refers to clarity of thought as well
as musical texture. This amazing movement, in which Mahler pushes
the boundaries of nineteenth-century tradition to the limits
and beyond, rarely fails to stir me and this performance is
certainly stirring – and unsettling. Tony Duggan uses the word
“edgy” and the interpretation certainly sounds that way – though
I do wonder if the sound quality contributes to that feeling;
that’s not a criticism of the transfers, by the way. Perhaps
Mitropoulos doesn’t tap the lyrical vein as well as some other
conductors do but this is a searching, often combustible reading.
This is a gripping traversal of one of the twentieth century’s
most profound symphonic movements.
The Ländler is rather too brisk for my taste – to
use Tony Duggan’s description of the interpretation of the preceding
movement, Mitropoulos’s approach is too ‘edgy’. However, the
second waltz (2:03) is better paced and very dynamic. The Rondo-Burleske
snarls and spits – here the playing has great bite and virtuosity.
I concur with Tony Duggan’s use of the word ‘searing’. At 6:13
the central trumpet-led section finds the conductor relaxing
a bit but still one is conscious of powerful tensions running
not far below the surface of the music. Later, at 10:42, the
return to the rondo itself is expertly prepared and from 12:23
the movement whirls to a close in a stunning display of orchestral
pyrotechnics.
In the great concluding Adagio we don’t find Mitropoulos
lingering unduly. His is an objective view of the movement,
one that’s of a piece with his reading of the rest of the symphony.
Just out of interest, however, I got out my copy of Bruno Walter’s
celebrated ‘live’ 1938 traversal with the Vienna Philharmonic
and, lo and behold, he despatches the movement in a ‘mere’ 18:20
– Mitropoulos takes 21:12. Indeed, it’s striking that Walter’s
entire performance runs for 70:13, compared with 73:38 for this
New York version. The characters of the respective performances
are very different but it’s interesting to note the comparable
sense of urgency. Though Mitropoulos’s fairly swift pacing may
disconcert the listener at first I find that once you get into
it, after a couple of minutes, the strength of his conception
is very convincing; there’s often a sweeping urgency that commands
attention and respect. From 12:32 there’s tremendous power and
ardour in the build-up to the main climax (reached at 13:26)
and once the climax is attained there’s no lack of expansiveness
in the pages that follow. Equally, in the closing pages (from
18:11) there’s the appropriate expression and spaciousness.
Sadly, there’s only a second or so of silence before the applause
starts – frankly, the performance deserved better from the audience
by way of a more sustained and attentive silence. Overall, while
there are unsettling features to the interpretation – indeed,
should there not be in this symphony? – this is a conspicuous
traversal of the Ninth.
The last of these recordings takes us back to Europe and to
the 1960 Salzburg Festival at which Mitropoulos marked the Mahler
centenary with a performance of the Eighth Symphony. This
recording has been available in various guises down the years,
most recently on the bargain Immortal Performances label, in
a transfer which I’ve not heard (review),
and also in an Orfeo set, which I heard some years ago. This
is a performance that’s not without drawbacks – the egregious
sound of the (electronic?) organ for one thing – but it also
has a great deal going for it. The speeds that Mitropoulos adopts
in the first movement are surprisingly steady and I wonder if
this was a pragmatic concession by the conductor, given that
he was working with large forces, many of whom would have been
unfamiliar both with him and with the music. He undoubtedly
sacrifices quite a bit of excitement - and I don’t mean superficial
excitement, either; Mahler wrote a veritable paean here and
I don’t think his conception is quite realised here, lacking
some of the electricity and impetus that one has heard in other
readings. That said, the sacrifices of speed and headlong excitement
are balanced, to some extent, by a gain in nobility and clarity.
The solo team register pretty well in the sound-picture and
serve the music well while the choirs sing with fervour. It
must be said, however, that the ‘Accende’ lacks that essential
electric charge at Mitropoulos’s surprisingly conservative tempo.
In the last three minutes or so of the movement Mitropoulos
invests the music with grandeur, his solo sopranos soaring aloft
and coping heroically with his broad tempo. It’s a very individual
account of the movement but the performers bring a huge collective
fervour to the music, audibly giving their all.
The opening to Part II is broadly conceived and the VPO plays
marvellously as Mitropoulos sketches in the musical landscape.
Hermann Prey is splendid at ‘Ewiger Wonnebrand’ but in the next
solo some of Otto Edelmann’s pitching is decidedly wayward,
though he improves as the section unfolds. The passage involving
the various choirs of Angels, Blessed Boys and the like comes
off well. The tenor, Giuseppe Zampieri sings in a somewhat Italianate
style, which one is not used to hearing in this music, though
his ardour and the fearlessness with which he approaches Mahler’s
demanding tessitura is highly commendable. However, parts of
his Marianus solo are taken too fast – for which one must blame
the conductor – and, as a result the singing sounds far too
emphatic. But at ‘Jungfrau, rein im schönsten Sinne’ his ringing
tone is admirable and the tempo is just right. A little later,
the gorgeous passage for strings with harp and harmonium – the
latter a bit too wheezy in tone – is glowingly played by the
VPO.
The female soloists all do well, if not, perhaps, challenging
the best we’ve heard on disc over the years – and it’s not clear
which of them is singing which part. I presume that as only
seven soloists are listed it is one of the two named sopranos
who doubles as Mater Gloriosa. Though his timbre is again rather
Mediterranean, Zampieri is commanding at ‘Blicket auf’ and from
here on the performance catches fire even more with everyone
giving of their best. At the very end the recording can scarcely
contain the volume of sound. This must have been a great occasion
in Salzburg. Some two months later Mitropoulos was dead, felled
by a heart attack while rehearsing Mahler’s Third.
I may not agree with every interpretative decision in this set
but still I admire Mitropoulos’s work on behalf of Mahler enormously.
What we have here is often high octane stuff – there were never
any half measures with this conductor – and his Mahler is very
often unsettling. But Mitropoulos constantly challenges the
listener and even if what we hear on these discs may not accord
completely with what has become ‘received wisdom’ about the
performance of these scores I’d argue that they are pretty essential
listening for anyone who takes Mahler seriously
However, I come away from the set with one or two regrets about
what might have been. To the best of my knowledge Mitropoulos
never conducted either the ‘Resurrection’ Symphony or Das
Lied von der Erde. I’m not entirely sure that Das
Lied would have suited his style – though I’d still like
to have heard him conduct it – but a Mitropoulos-led ‘Resurrection’
Symphony would have been a pretty combustible experience, I
think. The other major regret is that this great conductor died
as early as he did. Apart from anything else he might have accomplished
had he lived for, say, another decade, he died before Deryck
Cooke’s work on Mahler’s sketches for the Tenth Symphony came
to fruition. Mitropoulos might have been among the ranks of
those conductors who declined to take up the Cooke performing
version but, given his inquisitive approach to new music I bet
he’d at least have considered performing it. On the basis of
the Adagio included in this set he might well have become
an early and effective advocate for the Cooke version.
The presentation is up to Music & Arts’ usual standard,
which is to say very high. The 1998 transfers by Maggi Payne
are very successful. Although we are dealing with sound that’s
now at least fifty years old any sonic limitations don’t get
in the way of enjoyment and appreciation of the music-making.
The essay by Tony Duggan mixes knowledge and expert critical
evaluation, as usual, very successfully.
This is a set that deserves a place in any self-respecting Mahler
collection. It will challenge some of the ideas we’ve come to
have about Mahler interpretation over the last five decades
or so. Remember, Mitropoulos was a Mahler pioneer and he was
one of those who carved out a path which others followed, not
least Bernstein, who succeeded him in New York. As we celebrate
the Mahler anniversary in 2011 it’s very good that this important
set has been reissued.
John Quinn
Recording details
1: Carnegie Hall, New York, 19 January 1960
3: Carnegie Hall, New York, 15 April 1956
5: Carnegie Hall, New York, 2 January 1960
6: Klaus-von-Bismarck-Saal, WDR, Köln, 31 August 1959
8: Salzburg Festival, Felsenreitschule, Salzburg, 28 August
1960
9: Carnegie Hall, New York, 23 January 1960
10: Carnegie Hall, New York, 17 January 1960
3: Beatrice Krebs (alto)
