Das klagende Lied is probably the least-frequently performed
or recorded of Mahler’s major works. Indeed, many of the
leading Mahler interpreters - including Abbado, Bernstein, Solti
and Tennstedt - may well have never performed it; certainly
none of them recorded it. I’m unsure if Haitink has conducted
it though Rattle and Tilson Thomas have both recorded it. So,
it’s a pretty enterprising choice for ICA Classics as
an illustration of the art of Gennadi Rozhdestvensky. Come to
think of it, Janáček’s The Fiddler’s
Child isn’t exactly standard repertoire either. Both
of these performances were given during the period when Rozhdestvensky
was Chief Conductor of the BBC Symphony Orchestra (1978-1981);
indeed, the Mahler comes from what I imagine was his last Proms
series. I remember, as an avid Radio 3 listener, how daringly
different many of Rozhdestvensky’s programmes were during
his all-too-brief time at the BBC.
Mahler’s cantata, for which he also wrote the text, is
an early work. He based the text on a story that he found in
an anthology of German folk tales, onto which he grafted some
elements of a tale by the Brothers Grimm. The work is in three
parts and, in brief, the first part, ‘Waldmärchen’(Forest
Legend), is the scene-setter, telling of two brothers who set
out into the forest to find a flower; the queen has promised
to marry whoever can find and bring her a specimen of the flower.
The younger brother finds the flower but is murdered by his
sibling who steals the flower and sets off to claim the queen.
In Part Two, ‘Der Spielmann’ (The Minstrel), the
minstrel of the title comes across a bone from the murdered
young man and makes it into a flute which, when played, tells
the story of the murder. In Part Three, ‘Hochzeitstücke’(Wedding
Piece), we see the wedding of the elder brother and the queen
but the minstrel spoils the party by arriving and playing his
flute. When the brother accuses him of the murder the queen’s
castle falls to the ground and no one lives happily ever after.
The work was not performed until 1901 and by then Mahler had
dropped Part I. In some ways this was understandable because
the surviving two parts formed a tauter musical structure -
‘Waldmärchen’ represents nearly half the length
of the entire score and does ramble somewhat at times. However,
playing the work shorn of Part I makes little sense - though
that was how it was often given for many years - because without
that music we are plunged straight into the story in media
res with little or no sense of context. Happily, and rightly,
Rozhdestvensky plays the complete score. The cantata may not
be vintage Mahler but in this score the young composer is visibly
flexing his compositional muscles. He handles the large orchestra
with assurance, scoring the work very colourfully and pictorially
- note, for example, the use of offstage instruments in Part
III, a detail that I believe Mahler added to the score during
the 1890s. Furthermore, it’s fascinating to hear pre-echoes
of music yet to be written; little phrases and details of orchestration
that were worked in to later scores tease the ear from time
to time.
Although Robert Matthew-Walker’s note tells us relatively
little about the music he is informative about the Russian tradition
of Mahler performance and about Rozhdestvensky’s place
in that tradition. Apparently, he was the first Russian-born
conductor to perform and record all the Mahler symphonies. Certainly
he makes a most effective job of conducting Das klagende
Lied. He’s ably supported by a good team of soloists.
The bass only features in Part I but Gwynne Howell’s imposing
vocal presence makes one regret that. Teresa Cahill certainly
has the range, dramatic flair and vocal heft that the soprano
part demands though her words are often indistinct through the
use of a generous vibrato. The outstanding soloists are Dame
Janet Baker and Robert Tear. Dame Janet sings with the sort
of intensity that she customarily brought to, say, Das Lied
von der Erde - sample, for example, her singing towards
the end of Part I in the passage beginning at ‘Ihr Blumen,
was seid ihr vom Tau so schwer?’ Robert Tear is equally
vivid in his singing and I found his performance compelling.
Both the chorus and the orchestra respond keenly to Rozhdestvensky’s
direction, giving him colourful, dramatic and often powerful
singing and playing. Rozhdestvensky’s conducting is full
of energy and dramatic thrust. He knows this is a melodramatic
tale so there’s no point in underplaying things. This
is an exciting and communicative performance.
The Fiddler’s Child was included in a concert that
Rozhdestvensky and the BBC Symphony Orchestra gave in Prague
in 1979. It may not be a major Janáček score but
it’s by no means negligible and this is an enjoyable performance.
The score contains a prominent solo violin part and it’s
good to be reminded of the artistry of Bela Dekany, at that
time, and for many years, the distinguished leader of the orchestra.
The recorded sound for both performances is very good. The recording
of Das klagende Lied is described as a new re-mastering,
suggesting that it’s been available previously on CD.
However, the Janáček appears on CD for the first
time.
Having given us such an interesting and enterprising issue it’s
a pity that ICA Classics let themselves down badly in the matter
of documentation. The notes say very little about the music
itself. I doubt Robert Matthew-Walker is to blame for this because
I suspect he was writing to a brief. This is an artist-led series
so the emphasis in the note is on Rozhdestvensky. That’s
fair enough up to a point but this music may be unfamiliar to
many purchasers and more information about the pieces would
have been welcome. Even more regrettable is the absence of texts
and translations. Unless a purchaser already has a recording
of Das klagende Lied access to the text is unlikely to
be easy (try here)
yet it’s essential if one is to understand what is going
on. Eight of the fifteen pages in the booklet are given over
to advertising other issues in this series. I’m sure others
will feel, as I do, that much of this space could have been
put to better use for commissioning a more detailed note and
providing the texts. After all, this isn’t a bargain-priced
series of discs.
However, despite the disappointing documentation purchasers
of this disc will acquire two excellent, well-recorded performances
of interesting repertoire which is slightly off the beaten track.
John Quinn
Footnote
Since the above review appeared we have been contacted by Prof.
Gary B.Cohen, Professor and Chair of History, University of
Minnesota, Twin Cities, USA who advises that Bernard Haitink
did indeed record Das Klagende Lied, in the two-movement form
which omits Waldmärchen. The recording was made in 1973
and the soloists were Heather Harper, Norma Procter, and Werner
Hollweg. Most recently it has been available coupled with Haitink’s
1966 recording of Mahler’s Third Symphony in the Philips/Universal
“Originals” series.
alternatively
CD: AmazonUK
AmazonUS
Sound
Samples & Downloads
Teresa Cahill (soprano); Dame Janet Baker (mezzo); Robert Tear
(tenor); Gwynne Howell (bass); *Bela Dekany (violin); BBC Singers; BBC
Symphony Chorus
