ICA Classics has quickly established itself as a leading independent
label, with an impressive stream of concert recordings having
appeared on CD and DVD. The quality and quantity of the releases
should not be at all surprising, since the forces behind this
label and the artists’ agency that houses it are formerly of
IMG where they mined the archives for projects such as the BBC
Legends label and EMI’s Classic Archive DVD series.
The new label has two strings to its bow. First there are recordings
drawn from the archives, including the Charles Munch Beethoven
DVD I reviewed
earlier this year. Secondly, there are relatively recent recordings
made by ICA artists, such as the Antoni Wit Szymanowski DVD
also favourably reviewed
on this site. This DVD performance of Mahler’s Sixth Symphony
by the La Monnaie Symphony Orchestra under Hartmut Haenchen
comes within the latter category.
Haenchen supplies his own booklet for this release, consisting
in the main of a fictitious letter written by Gustav Mahler
to an unnamed friend, explaining the symphony movement by movement.
Whether or not this conceit appeals to you, the information
Haenchen conveys in this letter and the footnotes to it, pointing
up references to Schumann and the influence of Richard Strauss,
is fascinating. There is also a brief note in which Haenchen
justifies his election to play the scherzo second and the andante
third, with reference to Mahler’s hand written corrections to
the movement timings in the proof of the first edition of the
conductor’s score.
Haenchen's approach to the first movement is rhythmically crisp,
naturally paced, and flowingly lyrical. This is not a performance
that is driven like Solti’s or any of Bernstein’s, nor is there
any hint of the horror of a Barbirolli or Chailly trudge. The
darkness of the opening motif is frequently scattered. While
it this is not a performance to terrify any listener, Haenchen
nevertheless delivers an absorbing narrative built around care
for sound. The strings are beautifully blended and he allows
plenty of space for instrumental solos to bloom. The principal
horn and solo violin episode around the 14 minute mark, for
example, is beguiling. Haenchen is also meticulous with dynamics,
witness for example the way he brings the orchestra’s sound
to a whisper as the exposition repeat approaches. There are
little faults though. The orchestral build up around the 17
minute mark lacks power, and there is untidiness in the brass
and winds thereafter. Around 18 minutes, the fate motif is hard
to make out as those instruments that fall to make the minor
chord are overwhelmed by their fellows, minimising the dissonance.
I am glad Haenchen plays the scherzo second and the adagio third.
Musicologists far more learned than I am have spilled much ink
and invective over the correct order of the inner movements
of this symphony. For my part, and perhaps because I first heard
the symphony in this way, I find that the symphony makes more
sense musically and emotionally this way, as the scherzo’s opening
seems to me intended to be a grotesque parody of the opening
of the first movement and to mock at its optimistic close. Haenchen
does not really play it with such irony. He takes Alma Mahler’s
words about children’s games at face value, such that the darkness
of this movement in this performance is creeping and subtle
rather than sarcastic and immediate. While the interpretation
is certainly consistent with that of the first movement and
Haenchen’s own booklet note, I wanted more bite and nastiness
here.
The andante, however, sings. Haenchen and his orchestra deliver
a flowing legato performance of this movement, bittersweet in
its beauty. Haenchen and co. are, at 15:56, over a minute faster
in this movement than the likes of Karajan, Tennstedt and Tilson
Thomas, but there is nothing rushed here. The climax finds a
batonless Haenchen thoroughly absorbed in the music. The little
collegiate smiles he scattered to his players during the opening
movements have disappeared. Placed third and played with such
sad rapture, the andante truly is the emotional heart of this
performance.
Haenchen takes up his baton again for the monstrous finale,
where the intensity of the third movement meets the contrast
and clarity of the opening movement. The playing of the orchestra
is impressive, with the tuba solos suitably menacing, the soaring
trumpet lines at once hopeful and melancholic, and the trombones,
especially at the very end, haunting. Haenchen builds intensity
slowly throughout the 33 minutes of this movement, clearly keen
not to peak too early. The end, when it comes, is cathartic
rather than devastating and the culmination of a fine performance.
It does not displace my favourites on disc (Tennstedt (LPO
and EMI
Live), Solti, Boulez, Barbirolli,
Bernstein
(Sony)) but it is well worth hearing, especially if you
incline to Abbado’s and Jansons’
views of this symphony.
Haenchen has recorded this symphony before with the Netherlands
Philharmonic, a recording which turned up in a Brilliant Box
some years ago. Reviewing that
performance (which I have not heard) Tony Duggan suggested
that Haenchen seemed not to have made up his mind about how
this symphony should go, and that he underplayed the darker
drama of the score. I think Tony is right in speculating that
Haenchen may be “a Wunderhorn man at heart”, but on the evidence
of this new DVD performance he is now capable of shaping a dramatic
and satisfying performance of this symphony even though he sees
lyrical melancholy where others see sheer terror.
The DVD’s sound quality is most impressive, being very detailed
and clear, but also warm, the way a concert hall should sound.
The visual element adds to the pleasure of this performance.
The hall itself is lovely and the camerawork unfussy, offering
plenty of opportunities to watch members of the orchestra as
well as the conductor, whose clear gesture is a pleasure to
watch in itself.
Tim Perry
La Monnaie Symphony Orchestra/Hartmut Haenchen
[86:46] 
