The origins for this recording come from Ensemble Mini’s 2010 concert
series at the Philharmonie Berlin. For this series conductor Joolz Gale
invited Klaus Simon to arrange symphonic work in the spirit of Schoenberg’s
arrangements made for the Society for Private Musical Performances in Vienna
(1918-21). The Royal Academy of Music Soloists Ensemble with Trevor Pinnock
have recently been recording some of Schoenberg’s arrangements, including
Bruckner’s
Second Symphony (
review) and Mahler’s
Fourth Symphony (
review). There is also a version of this work by
Erwin Stein and there are other works around. In your hunt for
mini-Mahler the Schoenberg mini-arrangement of
Das Lied von der
Erde can also be found on more than one recording. It can hardly be a
coincidence that there is now another recording of this very same
Ninth
Symphony arrangement by Klaus Simon on the Gutman record label
performed by Camerata RCO, which is made up from members of the Royal
Concertgebouw orchestra. I haven’t had a chance to listen to this but we can
hope to have a comparison available before too long. It’s spread over 2 CDs
which may or may not be evidence of something, but I hear on the grape-vine
that it’s rather good.
Joolz Gale has set out his thoughts on this arrangement at some
length, and sums up the perhaps unexpected suitability for Mahler’s
Ninth Symphony: “It’s as though Mahler is trying to return to a
bygone world, one more developed than the “Wunderhorn years” of the first
four symphonies but that perhaps, this time, embraces his complete life. In
that sense, the 9th contains a wider variety of orchestration – often sparse
– that allows the transcription for chamber ensemble to remain true to the
essential colours and ideas of Mahler’s original composition.”
Arranger Klaus Simon has kept Mahler’s original dynamic markings, and
with the dedication and skill of these musicians the surprise is how close
this version comes to the atmosphere of the original. Some aspects of the
orchestration create distinctive effects. Where Schoenberg would have used a
harmonium Simon has gone for accordion, which allows for more dynamic
freedom and substitutes associations with chilly churches for those of more
bourgeois café life. Scale and perspective are aspects which need a little
give and take from the listener, but once you become used to the setting you
can adjust your expectations and relax. The first cymbal crash at 5:50 in
the first movement sounds rather overblown, but as it appears in the tutti
sections further on the balance and suitability of its inclusion becomes
clear. Use of the piano is quite restricted, and while the temptation might
be to include it all over the place like a sort of continuo this is not the
case. Big string sections are represented by single players here, and it is
at points where these massed colours emerge that things can become a little
edgy. Gale describes how brass and winds are taken a few notches down in
dynamic to make things more realistic, and where doublings are often thinned
to alternate parts or leave just solo players. The dynamics are as a result
contrasting from the
very quiet to the seemingly very loud, and
while sheer overwhelming bulk of texture may be lacking you don’t feel
particularly short-changed in terms of the drama of the whole thing.
The
Ländler pace of the second movement is slower than some
but works fairly well, the passion of the playing sometimes taking us to the
point of vulgarity but all the time making a convincing case for the
chamber-music context. Here was a chance to bring out Mahler’s wit and the
idea that he might have had more of a sense of fun than we realised, but
serious dedication and Teutonic frowns prevail. Remarkable virtuosity in the
musicianship on this recording does make you smile however, and more than
ever in the difficulties of the
Rondo-Burleske third movement. The
exposed nature of each part leaves nowhere for anyone to hide, and the
sustained quality of this achievement is worth the entry price.
The final
Adagio brings us back to the subject of massed
string sonorities. Subtle use of the accordion adds support, but the
tear-jerking nature of the music is communicated powerfully by the
quartet-plus-bass which performs here. What confronts us is the sheer
magnificent brilliance of Mahler’s music, shining with eloquence in any
context but remarkably effective in this case. The ending is quite
magical.
Newcomers to Mahler’s
Ninth Symphony would be wise to listen
to and absorb some full orchestral versions before engaging with this
mini-9
th. A personal favourite is that with Sir John Barbirolli
on EMI (
review), but there are plenty of good ones around. If this
is music that you know and love then this will be something of a voyage of
rediscovery. The experience of expanding chamber works into orchestral
pieces is more common and superficially easier to achieve, but this
recording is superb evidence that great music can thrive in ‘austerity’
versions. This performance is by no means a hair-shirt compromise, but by
paring back excess weight and revealing more of the bones of the music one
has a chance to appreciate new and different aspects of its nature. The SACD
sound allows you to inhabit the performance space as if you were almost part
of the ensemble, and you can close your eyes and be given the choicest of
treats. Mahler’s
9th is a valedictory journey of one sort or
another, and as you reach the end of this performance you will feel
transported and transformed as much as by many a full orchestral
recording.
Dominy Clements
