Gustav MAHLER (1860-1911)
Symphony No. 8 Symphony of a Thousand (1906)
Erika Sunnegardh (soprano); Ricarda Merbeth (soprano); Christiane Oelze (soprano);
Lioba Braun (alto); Gerhild Romberger (alto); Stephen Gould (tenor); Dietrich
Henschel (baritone); Georg Zeppenfeld (bass)
MDR Rundfunkchor; Chor der Oper Leipzig; GewandhausChor; Thomanerchor Leipzig;
GewandhausKinderchor
Gewandhausorchester Leipzig/Riccardo Chailly
Director: Michael Beyer
Picture: 16:9, full HD
Sound: PCM stereo, dts Master Audio Surround 5.1
Region: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: German, English, French
rec. live, 26-27 May 2011, Gewandhaus zu Leipzig
ACCENTUS BLU-RAY ACC 10222 [92:19]
If two Mahler centenaries in quick succession has left you maxed out – financially
and figuratively – then you have my sympathy. On the verge of overload myself,
I approached Chailly’s recent Mahler 2 – also filmed at the 2011 Leipzig Mahlerfest
– with trepidation, only to be elated and enthralled by it (review).
As I suggested there, Chailly’s Mahler cycle on CD is lacklustre, and while
his Leipzig ‘Resurrection’ may just warrant the epithet ‘old fashioned’ it’s
anything but dull; indeed, it’s cogently argued, immaculately played and sung,
and it realises – in full – the visual and sonic potential of Blu-ray.
There are so many reefs on which the Eighth can founder, from the propulsive
first movement to the long, finely spun narrative of Part II, with its encircling
choirs and lofty solos. Scanning the list of singers, I’m pleased to see Christiane
Oelze – who made a good impression in Chailly’s Mahler 2 – and Lioba Braun,
whose ‘Urlicht’ for Jonathan Nott is a highlight of that Super Audio set (review).
The men look promising enough, Georg Zeppenfeld familiar from Christian Thielemann’s
Beethoven Nine on C-Major DVD and Blu-ray. The video director for this performance
– recorded over two nights – is Michael Beyer, who crops up on a number of
EuroArts and Accentus releases.
Part I of the Mahler 8, with its fervid invocations to the creative spirit,
is taxing for all involved, not least because it needs to build, wave upon
wave, before it crashes onshore in spectacular style. That it doesn’t in this
case is largely due to Chailly’s sluggish speeds, the music all too quickly
quickly becalmed. As for the soloists, they’re not terribly well blended,
and although the choirs are robust in the tuttis they’re apt to disappear
in a huge, warm backwash of sound. Matters improve slightly at the return
of the great hymn, but by then it’s much too late. Antoni Wit on Blu-ray Audio
– review
– is far more elemental, sensing that deep swell and letting the waves break
at their highest point. By contrast, Chailly’s Part I lacks that mighty ebb
and flow; instead, we’re presented with a series of whorls and eddies that
advance and withdraw. Very frustrating indeed.
Not a good start, and certainly not a promising prelude to the vast Part II.
Chailly’s focus on detail – evident in Part I – could be just what’s needed
in the oft diaphanous writing of the Faust setting; that said, a governing
pulse is crucial, or else all is lost. The Poco adagio, ideally a
series of beautifully crafted, cymbal-capped epiphanies, is a strangely dour
affair, the over-prominent pizzicati adding unwelcome weight to Mahler’s
light textures. This oddity of balance also applies to the all-important cymbals,
which are barely audible.
Indeed, watching the soloists and choirs I was struck by an odd sense of detachment,
a curious disjunct between what one sees and hears. It’s much less noticeable
when the orchestra is in full cry, but in quieter passages and in vocal solos
the sound seems soft edged and slightly displaced from its source. That certainly
applies in stereo, and I did wonder whether this was a mix-down from the surround
track. In any event, it’s all very synthetic and it compromises spatial relationships,
the latter so important in this work. In mitigation, the children’s choirs
are excellent, and the soloists are much more satisfying singly than they
are as a team. As for the harps, moored like tall-masted schooners at the
back of the orchestra, they sound splendid.
To borrow Whitman's phrase, this performance is 'fitful, like a surge', so
that by the time ‘Alles Vergängliche’ arrives it’s liable to be met with indifference
rather than any sense of anticipation; and although the closing pages are
quite impressive it’s not the overwhelming conclusion one might expect. Comparing
this finale with the expansive sound of that ‘Resurrection’ is instructive,
the latter’s cumulative power and fearless dynamics infinitely preferable
to the ungainly apotheosis of this Eighth. I could easily forgive the peculiar
balances and veiled sonics if the performance were up to snuff, but this uninspired
reading just reminds me of those old Chailly CDs; worthy, but ultimately rather
dull.
If you must have the Eighth on Blu-ray I would put away that credit card and
wait for Claudio Abbado’s version, the concerts planned for Lucerne later
this year. On DVD there’s always Leonard Bernstein (DG) or Klaus Tennstedt
(EMI), but if you don’t mind Blu-ray without the visuals Wit offers high-resolution
sound – in stereo at least, the surround track is problematic – plus all the
insight and urgency Chailly’s version so sorely lacks.
Dan Morgan
http://twitter.com/mahlerei
Adrift in the doldrums; not a patch on Chailly's fine 'Resurrection'.