Gustav MAHLER (1860-1911)
Symphony No. 5 in C sharp minor (1901-1902) [73:00]
Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks/Mariss Jansons
rec. live, March 2016, Philharmonie im Gasteig, Munich
Reviewed as a 16-bit press download
BR KLASSIK 900150
[73:00]
Gustav MAHLER
Symphony No. 5 [75:30]
Minnesota Orchestra/Osmo Vänskä
rec. June 2016, Orchestra Hall, Minneapolis
Reviewed as a stereo 24/96 download from
eClassical.com
Pdf booklet included
BIS BIS-2226 SACD
[74:57]
Two new Mahler Fifths, one from a conductor with a proven track record in
this repertoire, the other not. Two very different orchestras as well, with
well-defined sonic signatures and recorded by engineers with impeccable
credentials. But, just in case you think you’ve died and gone to heaven, I
must warn you that there are some surprises here, not all of them pleasant.
Mariss Jansons’ Mahler is decent, if not stellar, as his Concertgebouw
(RCO) readings on both audio and
video
tend to demonstrate. Also, having both the RCO and the BRSO at his disposal
has allowed him to rerecord some works with both ensembles.
This
Suk/Dvořák album is a case in point. Osmo Vänskä has also been able to take
a second bite of the cherry, albeit with the Sibelius symphonies; his Lahti
box, full of wonder and a powerful sense of discovery, is a must for all
Sibelians. I’m much less enthusiastic about his Minnesota remakes – much
praised elsewhere – not least for the sleek, rather corporate sound of that
orchestra.
The BRSO, with whom Rafael Kubelík recorded his fine Mahler set in the
1960s, continues to impress in this music; indeed, their recent recording
of the
First Symphony
with Yannick Nézet-Séguin was one of my top picks for 2016. But then Mahler has
been well-served by other bands/conductors as well: the New York
Philharmonic (Bruno Walter and Leonard Bernstein); the RCO (Bernard
Haitink); the London Philharmonic (Klaus Tennstedt); the Berliner
Philharmoniker and the Lucerne Festival Orchestra (Claudio Abbado); and, of
course, the Wiener Philharmoniker (Zubin Mehta, Pierre Boulez and
Bernstein).
That’s not an exhaustive list, of course, but it’s no coincidence that when
it comes to Mahler’s Fifth those partnerships excel. Walter’s classic 1947
recording is mandatory listening, especially in Andrew Rose’s splendid
remastering for
Pristine.
Tennstedt was at his best in this symphony – on CD for EMI-Warner and on
DVD for
ICA Classics
– while Abbado’s Berlin and
Lucerne
versions are among the most cogent, far-sighted and hard-hitting I know.
Then there’s Lenny’s WP recording for DG, which Brian Wilson declared his
benchmark when reviewing the
Vänskä.
I doubt many would quibble with that.
Let’s start with Jansons and the BRSO. I’ve also listened to a 24/96
downloaded of his earlier RCO recording, available from
eClassical.
The latter is a little quicker, notably in the Rondo-Finale –
15:45 as opposed to 16:20 – but there’s not much in it. His BRSO Trauermarsch is darker – grittier, even – and I prefer it to the
very refined RCO version. It’s swings and roundabouts though; for instance,
the side drum is more disquieting in the Bavarian recording, but the Dutch
one is rather better at conveying weight and amplitude. And if you want größter Vehemenz in the second movement, Jansons and the RCO should
fit the bill; ditto if you like a nimble, dancing Scherzo.
I’ve heard it said that the Concertgebouw choose who they play well for;
true or not, they’re at their refulgent and responsive best in the Jansons
Fifth (as indeed they are in a barnstorming performance under
Daniele Gatti,
recorded as part of the Mahler celebrations in 2010). In both cases the
horns are simply glorious, eclipsing the Bavarians at every turn. The same
is true of the Amsterdam strings in the Adagietto, which have all
the glow and purity of line that’s missing from the Munich performance. And
yes, the RCO’s Rondo-Finale is tauter and packs a bigger punch,
especially in the closing pages.
Neither of Jansons’ Mahler Fifths is a must-have, but if I had to choose
I’d take the earlier performance over the later one, not least because
there’s a greater sense of the work’s architecture, its nodal points better
prepared for and more convincingly executed. Jansons is just more
compelling first time around; besides, it’s always a pleasure to hear one
of the world’s great Mahler orchestras at their very best. And, quite apart
from the lower resolution of their recording, the Bavarian Radio engineers
have done a fine job here; that said, they must yield to their Dutch
counterparts in almost every respect.
Now for Vänskä, whose only Mahler recording until now was a Lahti
Das Lied von der Erde
from the early 1990s. Given that the acrimonious Minnesota lock-out is
past, the time is right for another big project; indeed, Vänskä has
extended his contract with the orchestra until 2022. Without wishing to
jinx this new cycle I do have reservations about the conductor’s
credentials in this repertoire, especially when the competition is so
fierce. And listening to audio samples – the opening immense, but not in a
good way – I began to worry about the album’s sonics as well.
As it happens, the genuine article is not nearly as overpowering as I’d
feared; also, Vänskä paces and phrases the Trauermarsch very well,
although he’s not as wild as some in those big, despairing outbursts. The
range and detail of this recording is astonishing, Mahler’s distinctive
timbres most beautifully rendered. What really surprises me here are
Vänskä’s echt-Mahlerian rhythms; they’re far more supple and
spontaneous than either of Jansons’ performances. The Finn also finds
greater light and shade in this opener – more drama, too – and that’s very
encouraging.
The second movement is no less appealing, the playing both clean and
propulsive. And while Vänskä dwells lovingly on the smallest details he
does so without really sacrificing shape or momentum. Quiet passages are
very quiet, but they’re still perfectly audible. The sheer tactility and
presence of this recording, and its plausible balances, puts the listener
firmly in the front stalls, those drenching climaxes properly scaled and
thrillingly caught. No, Vänskä isn’t as excitable as Bernstein or as
powerful as Abbado here, but his steady, implacable approach is still
pretty compelling. As for the Scherzo, it’s attractive enough, but
Jansons and his Dutch payers are more buoyant – and affectionate – at this
juncture.
But it’s Vänskä’s unforgivably sluggish Adagietto – 12:39, as
opposed to Jansons’ 9:16 in Amsterdam and 8:51 in Munich – that, quite
literally, stops this performance in its tracks. Beautiful, yes, but
utterly misguided. And despite some fine playing, Vänskä’s Rondo-Finale strikes me as dull and discursive. Goodness, where has
all that energy and promise gone? Perhaps such ruinous misjudgements are
what separate merely average Mahlerians from good or great ones. In any
event, these final movements do for Vänskä’s Mahler Fifth as surely as a
stiletto between the ribs. In short, a terrible disappointment after such
an auspicious start.
Musically, Jansons and the RCO are the winners here; technically, though,
BIS are way out in front.
Dan Morgan
Previous review (Vänskä):
Brian Wilson