The
Mahler Symphonies
A synoptic survey by Tony
Duggan
Symphony No.1
(revised February 2006)
Mahler's first four
symphonies are often classed as his
"Wunderhorn" group owing to thematic
and emotional links with settings of
songs from the anthology of German folk
poems "Des Knaben Wunderhorn" ("Youth's
Magic Horn"). Strictly speaking, the
First Symphony doesn't fulfil this criterion
for inclusion as a "Wunderhorn" symphony
as its thematic and emotional links
are with Mahler's first song cycle,
"Lieder Eines Fahrenden Gesellen" ("Songs
of a Wayfarer"), of which both words
and music were written by him under
the influence of first love and rejection.
But it's a useful classification because
the Wayfarer songs and the First Symphony
do inhabit the same thought and sound
world of symphonies 2,3, and 4.
The First sets out
a richly representative store of Mahler's
characteristic styles especially as
seen through the prism of this first
period in his creative life and tells
us a great deal about the man at that
time. It also turns a key that admits
us through the door to what is to come
making the First the ideal work with
which to begin exploration of Mahler's
life and work. At the start there is
a seven octave A in the strings depicting
the mood of early morning in high Summer;
in the second movement a clumsy peasant
dance establishes a love of dance which
will later grow to an obsession; in
the third a weird canon on the tune
"Frere Jacques" interspersed with cafe
band music in Mahler's sleaziest vein
illustrates his habit of juxtaposing
the gross with the sublime; in the last
movement there is music intent on outdoing
itself in world-storming excess - noisy
triumph exploding with youthful bravado
out of self-absorbed emotional reflection.
There are two significant quotations
from Wayfarer songs as well to remind
us that all of his symphonies will "touch
base" in the lied at some point.
An acid test for Mahler
idiom is how the third movement is played.
Most recordings and performances these
days seem bent on prettifying it, most
especially the opening double bass solo.
You have to go back to conductors like
Mitropoulos (Sony 62342 purchase)
and Adler (Tahra TAH239240 purchase)
to hear it played how I think Mahler
intended it and these two recordings
are essential for the Mahler completist
and enthusiast, though some limited
mono sonics have to be allowed for.
In his keynote lecture to the 14th
Colorado Mahlerfest Donald Mitchell
referred to how he had tried and failed
to stop the principal double bass of
one of the world’s great Mahler orchestras
"beautifying that opening solo and thus
stripping it of its intended character
and above all of its power to shock."
I agree with Mitchell about this passage
needing to deliver as much of its original
"power to shock" and I long to hear
modern performances where this is realised.
There is an earlier
version of this work with slightly different
orchestration and an extra movement
- a short, lyrical piece called "Blumine"
- that Mahler discarded when he submitted
the whole work to revision. The earlier
version also had a title, approximately
"Titan, tone poem in symphonic form".
The title was also discarded with the
extra movement so there is no real justification
in record companies or concert promoters
using the title "Titan" now when playing
the revised version which is the one
herd in concert halls and on record.
To do so is to swim against Mahler's
wishes, as also is the occasional practice
of "restoring" the discarded "Blumine"
movement in its old place in the final
version of the symphony. To do all this
creates a bit of a hybrid. You can hear
the discarded movement still as it is
sometimes included on recordings as
a fill-up. Listen to it by all means
but as a "standalone" piece of early
Mahler. There is, however, a recording
of that early version of the symphony
where the inclusion of "Blumine"
makes textural sense. It is conducted
by Ole Kristian Ruud with the Norrkoping
Symphony orchestra. (Simax PSC 1150
purchase).
The precise history of the score need
not detain us since it’s a complex and
by no means completely solved puzzle,
but suffice it to say that what we have
on this release presents broadly the
penultimate stage in the work’s development
heard in Hamburg in 1893 where it carried
the title "Titan, Symphonic poem
in the form of a symphony. There are
even more questions raised by this recording,
though. Not least the accuracy of the
published orchestral parts that would
have been used and their relationship
to the manuscript at Yale University
to which provenance is claimed. The
latter is itself by no means a clean
set of documents either, a fact the
notes fail to mention. But discussion
of all these fine points are beyond
the scope of this survey. Having made
these caveats clear I think we can rely
on this recording taking us close to
what Mahler presented in Hamburg in
1893, though it cannot be said with
confidence to be exactly what he conducted.
The differences between the First Symphony
we are familiar with and this 1893 Hamburg
version may not seem all that great
on first hearing, but they are significant.
The performance itself is not one filled
with special insights, however. Were
it not for the fact that this is the
only recording available of the 1893
version it would not deserve to make
much of a splash at all. No composer
quite exposes the second rate in orchestral
playing like Mahler and the Norwegian
orchestra never rises above that level
as they give us a workmanlike, but ultimately
uninspired, performance with strings
rather undernourished, brass on the
thin side and woodwind failing to really
make any impression above playing the
notes in the right order. This is a
release that ought to be on the shelf
of anyone interested in this composer’s
work. While we continue to await a recording
of the score by one of the great orchestra/conductor
partnerships it will serve us well enough
and we can now move on to recordings
of Mahler’s revised score, the one always
performed and recorded where we are
spoilt for choice.
For many Mahlerites over a certain age
Rafael Kubelik has always been there
like a dependable uncle, part of the
Mahler family landscape. He made one
of the earliest studio recordings of
this work with the Vienna Philharmonic
for Decca in the mid-1950s and that
recording had a real sense of discovery
about it. He was also one of the first
to record a complete cycle after many
years of performing the music in the
concert hall, and that DG cycle made
in Munich has hardly been out of the
catalogue since the 1970s. Yet it has
never quite made the "splash" that those
by some of his colleagues have. Kubelik’s
view of Mahler is not one that attaches
itself to the mind at a first, or even
a second, listening. He was never the
man for quick fixes or cheap thrills
in any music he conducted. Not for him
the heart-on-sleeve of a Bernstein,
the machine-like precision of a Solti,
or the dark 19th century psychology
of a Tennstedt. Kubelik’s Mahler goes
back to folk roots, pursues more refined
textures, accentuates song, winkles
out a lyrical aspect and so has the
reputation of playing down the angst,
the passion, the grandeur. But note
that I was careful to use the word "reputation".
I often wonder whether those who tend
to pass over Kubelik’s Mahler have actually
listened hard over a period of time
to his recordings. I think if they had
they would, in the end, come to agree
that whilst Kubelik is certainly excellent
at those qualities for which his Mahler
is always recognised he is also just
as capable of delivering the full "Mahler
Monty" as everyone else is. It’s just
that he anchors it harder in those very
aspects he is praised for, giving the
rest a unique canvas on which he can
let whole of the music breathe and expand.
It’s all a question of perspective.
Kubelik’s Mahler takes time, always
remember that. Many others who tend
not to rate Kubelik highly in certain
later Mahler Symphonies if they were
of a mind to rate his First Symphony
might feel constrained to point out
that the First is, after all, a "Wunderhorn"
symphony and that it is in the "Wunderhorn"
mood where Kubelik was at his strongest.
I don’t disagree with that as an explanation
but, as I have said, I think that in
Mahler Kubelik was so much more than
a two or three trick pony. In fact in
the First Symphony Kubelik’s ability
to bring out the grotesques, the heaven
storming and the romance was just as
strong as Bernstein or Solti. It’s a
case of perspectives again. In his studio
cycle for DG the First Symphony was
always one of the most enduring. It
has appeared over and over again among
the top recommendations of many critics,
including this one, but I believe it
has now been superseded by another version
conducted by him with the same orchestra
but this time playing "live"
and released on Audite. The studio version
had one particular drawback noted by
even its most fervent admirers. A drawback
it shared with most of the other recordings
in the cycle. It lay in the recorded
sound given to the Bavarian Radio Orchestra
by the DG engineers. Balances were close,
almost brittle. The brass, trumpets
especially, were shrill and raucous.
There was an overall "boxy" feeling
to the sound picture. I have never been
one to dismiss a recording on the basis
of recorded sound alone unless literally
un-listenable. However, even I regretted
the sound that this 
superb
performance had been given. This is
not the only reason I am now going to
recommend this 1979 "live" recording
on Audite (95.467)
over the older DG, but it is an important
one. At last we can now hear Kubelik’s
magnificent interpretation of this symphony,
and the response of his excellent orchestra,
in beautifully balanced and realistic
sound about which I can have no criticism
and nothing but praise. Twelve years
after the studio recording Kubelik seems
to have taken his interpretation of
the work a stage further too. Whether
it’s a case of "live" performance before
an audience leading him to take a few
more risks, play a little more to the
gallery, or whether it’s simply the
fact that he has thought more and more
about the work in subsequent performances,
I don’t know. What I do know is that
every aspect of his interpretation I
admired first time around in the DG
version is presented with a degree more
certainty, as though the 1967 version
was "work in progress" and this is the
final statement. Straight away the opening
benefits from the spacious recording
with the mellow horns and distant trumpets
really giving that sense of otherworldliness
that Mahler was surely aiming for. Notice
also the woodwinds’ better balancing
in the exposition main theme which Kubelik
unfolds with a telling degree more lyricism.
One interesting point to emerge is that
after twelve years Kubelik has decided
to dispense with the exposition repeat
and it doesn’t appear to be needed.
In the development the string slides
are done to perfection, as good as Horenstein’s
in his old Vox recording. Kubelik also
manages an admirable sense of mounting
malevolence when the bass drum starts
to tap softly. Nature is frightening,
Mahler is telling us, and Kubelik agrees.
The recapitulation builds inexorably
and the coda arrives with great sweep
and power. At the end the feeling is
that Kubelik has imagined the whole
movement in one breath. The second movement
has a well-nigh perfect balance of forward
momentum and weight. There is trenchancy
here, but there is also a dance element
that is so essential to make the music
work. Some conductors seem to regard
the Trio as a perfunctory interlude.
Not Kubelik. He lavishes the same care
on this that he lavishes on everything
else and the pressing forward he was
careful to observe in the main scherzo
means he doesn’t need to relax too much
in order to give the right sense of
respite. There is also an air of the
ironic, a feeling we are being given
the other side of one coin. The third
movement remains one of the most extraordinary
pieces of music Mahler ever wrote. The
fact that it was amongst his earliest
compositions makes it even more astounding.
I have always believed that in this
movement Mahler announces himself a
truly unique voice for the first time
and Kubelik certainly seems to think
this in the way he rises to the occasion.
He has always appreciated the wonderful
colours and sounds that must have so
shocked the first audience but in this
recording we are a stage further on
in the interpretation than in his previous
version. Right at the start he has a
double bass soloist prepared to sound
truly sinister and one who you can really
hear properly also. As the funeral march
develops, a real sense of middle European
horror is laid out before us. All the
more sinister for being understated
by Mahler but delivered perfectly by
a conductor who is prepared to ask his
players to sound cheap, to colour the
darker tones. This aspect is especially
evident in the band interruptions where
the bass drum and cymbals have a slightly
off-colour, Teutonic edge which, when
they return after the limpid central
section, are even more insinuating and
menacing. Kubelik seems to have such
confidence in the music that he is able
to bring off an effect like this where
some others don’t. In the chaos unleashed
at the start of the last movement you
can hear everything in proper perspective,
brass especially. The ensuing big tune
is delivered with all the experience
Kubelik has accumulated by this time,
but even I caught my breath at how he
holds back a little at the restatement.
Even though the lovely passage of nostalgic
recall just prior to the towering coda
expresses a depth and profundity only
hinted at in 1967 it is the coda itself
which will stay in your mind. As with
the DG studio recording Kubelik is anxious
for you to still hear what the strings
are doing whilst the main power is carried
by brass and percussion. Kubelik is
also too experienced a Mahlerian to
rush the ending. Too many conductors
press down on the accelerator here as
if this will make the music more exciting,
and how wrong they are to try. Listen
to how Kubelik holds on to the tempo
just enough to allow every note to tell.
He knows this is so much more than just
a virtuoso display, that it is a statement
of Mahler’s own arrival, and his care
and regard for this work from start
to finish stays with him to the final
note. So Kubelik on Audite is a top
recommendation for this symphony and,
I think, even surpasses in achievement
those by Horenstein and Barbirolli to
name two other favourite versions from
a previous generation I regard as essential
to any collection and which I will come
to below.
Like Kubelik, Jascha Horenstein first
made a recording of this work in Vienna
in the mid-1950s and this is still available
on Vox coupled with a Bruckner Ninth
of the same vintage (CDX2 5508 purchase)
and on Preiser (90669 purchase).
Horenstein didn't have the benefit of
the Vienna Philharmonic and though the
Vienna Symphony play well and idiomatically
it's their contribution which lets him
down, especially in the last movement
where Horenstein's demands stretch them
too far. The recording is also boxy
and close-miked. Fortunately, Horenstein
recorded the work again, this time with
the London Symphony Orchestra in 1970
for Unicorn-Kanchana (UKCD2012) and
this version supersedes his earlier
one in almost every respect. The introduction
is as clear and expectant, as with Kubelik,
but there is a greater sense of space
both in the pacing of the music, the
playing of the orchestra and the more
atmospheric recording. Horenstein shares
also Kubelik's simplicity in the main
theme but I like the way he builds in
more mystery to the arrival of the soft
horn announcement of, what will become,
the clinching motive at the climax of
the exposition. This is real concert
hall "theatre" worthy of a Furtwangler.
At the rip-roaring climax note too Horenstein's
acute ear for the particular sound of
the Mahler orchestra, for contrasts
and for the special instrumentation.
A slight slowing for dramatic effect
is a surprise but such is Horenstein's
long-term planning it doesn't obtrude.
The Scherzo has more bucolic a swing
to the dance and a nice trenchancy which
contrasts beautifully with some perky
clarinet contributions in the Trio.
In the third movement funeral march
Horenstein keeps up a slightly faster
tempo than usual but, as so often with
this conductor, his tempo choice is
unerringly the right one for what he
wants to say. He recognises, as does
Kubelik, that this is a parody and should
have the mood of fantasy too. His band
interjections really seem to touch a
nerve and in the quotation from the
Gesellen song that forms the emotional
core note the bassoon contribution,
the kind of detail highlighting Horenstein
was renowned for as it undermines the
texture like a worm in the flower bed
- very Mahlerian ! When the march returns
Horenstein doesn't force the "oom-pah"
rhythms of the band but they make their
effect which, it is surprising to report,
is not as usual as you might think.
The benefits of the virtuoso LSO of
that period are apparent in the opening
onslaught of the fourth movement: "The
cry of a deeply wounded heart". Nothing
seems beyond this orchestra and their
contribution lifts the passage to an
almost cosmic level, accentuating the
bravado of the young Mahler. Horenstein
refuses to wear his heart on his sleeve
in the lovely transition into the lyrical
second subject, so the great theme emerges
from out of exhaustion as a consolation,
heart-easing rather than heart-wrenching.
In the central section where the battle
is resumed and the end signalled Horenstein,
ever master of structure, holds something
back for the coda and then with what
potent nostalgia he paints the final
look-back to the start of the symphony:
horns calling from immense distances
and also note the picking out of a violin
harmonic. The end does not disappoint.
In fact Horenstein even has a surprise
in store. At the point in the score
marked "Pesante-triumphal", where
the horns should be standing up, Horenstein
slows the tempo down in the kind of
rhetorical gesture he was not usually
known for. The effect is to lift the
music again to another level and make
no apologies for what always teeters
on the edge of banality. In so doing
he wins us over with his sheer audacity.
This is a very special recording of
the First Symphony that ought to be
in every collection.
There are a number of recordings of
this symphony conducted by Bruno Walter
available, but only two are studio recordings
as opposed to some live "airchecks".
The first was made in 1954 in New York
and in its latest remastering
on Sony is certainly one for the
serious Mahlerite's shelf. The playing
of the New York Philharmonic, one of
the great Mahler orchestras with a proud
tradition stretching back to the composer
himself, is superb and one of the jewels
of this recording, along with the interpretation
of a man who was the composer's friend
and protégé. But if I
choose instead the 1961 stereo remake
with the Columbia Symphony in Los Angeles
on Sony (SM2K 64447 purchase-
a two disc set with Walter's classic
recording of Mahler's Second) it's because
I feel he penetrates even deeper into
this work, even though the orchestra
is not quite the match in weight of
tone or commitment compared with the
New Yorkers. Another gain in the remake
is the richer recording in stereo. Walter's
introduction to the first movement is
a degree more literal than Kubelik's
or Horenstein's, but it's marginal and
the stillness is sustained just as well.
Though note how this is broken by the
pizzicato interjections, startling us
across each string section. The way
Walter unfolds the Wayfarer theme is
just as unforced and eloquent as his
two colleagues but he favours a little
more brooding portent in the lead-up
to the soft horn announcement of the
clinching motive and the recording allows
us to hear a splendid soft bass drum
with it also. There is plenty of raw
energy and power in the great outburst
at the climax of the development and
the closing pages are perhaps more exhilarating
under the octogenarian Walter than with
men a third his age. In the Scherzo
the feeling of being in the hands of
someone in whom this music is bred in
the bone starts to become even more
apparent first in the way the lower
strings dig trenchantly into the dance
then in the way the woodwinds cluck
at the inner voices and finally in the
waltz element of the Trio. There is
such a wealth of experience that you
miss when you hear many later recordings
that I wonder whether a sustained period
of listening to a Walter recording really
ought to be compulsory for all the young
whippersnappers who think all they have
to do with this music is stand up in
front of the orchestra. But it's in
the third movement the real profundity
of Walter's interpretation becomes apparent.
Of course he recognises the parody element,
but he also manages to take it one step
further, mixing with it just a hint
of tragedy to make it matter to us even
more. The band music interjections are
beautifully "placed" with hairsbreadth
judgement of rhythmic alteration, the
Wayfarer song interlude is much closer
to the original song which is an important
and illuminating touch. The return of
the march at a slightly quicker speed,
another fine judgement of tempo, takes
us deeper again because, if there was
slightly less of an element of parody
in the first presentation of the march,
here if anything there is even more.
This for me is the key to why this interpretation
of the third movement is the greatest
of them all. This is the kind of dramatic
touch only a conductor of Walter's experience
could have made. It's in the fourth
movement you notice the greatest difference
between this recording and Walter's
earlier one. In New York his overall
tempo is more conventional, even though
filled with the special insights he
carries forward to his stereo remake.
In 1961, however, he is broader, grander
and it's hard to choose between the
two approaches as both are valid. My
own view is that in the second recording
he builds on his first and the gain,
especially in the opening section, is
that the music is less frenzied, more
sky-reaching, rather in the manner of
Horenstein even though I think the new
York Philharmonic prove themselves the
greater orchestra. Walter plays the
lyrical second subject to the manner
born and note the double bass pizzicato.
Yes, Horenstein and Kubelik might be
purer, but Walter's special brand of
old world nobility brings its rewards.
Despite the broader approach, the central
"false" climax is paced superbly and
never flags. All the listener needs
to do is be aware that Walter is taking
the wider view, seeing a bigger picture,
which then means that when the nostalgic
recall of the symphony's opening arrives
the more it stays in the mind. The coda
towers as much as Horenstein's. You
might argue Walter is too steady but
you would need to have a heart of stone
not to respond to the sense of completion
and hard-won confidence.
Another great recording
from the recent past re-surfaced in
remastered sound a few years ago. In
1957 Sir John Barbirolli made what must
have seemed a landmark recording with
his Hale Orchestra for the Pie label.
This has at last re-appeared on Dutton
(CDSJB 1015 purchase)
and deserves as serious consideration
as the others we have looked at so far.
Firstly it's possible to be aware, as
with Kubelik's first recording for Decca,
of a genuine sense of discovery being
enacted. Nothing sounds routine, every
bar is invested with a special, questing
quality. The introduction to the first
movement is achingly nostalgic but notice
also the phrasing of the horns, quite
unlike anything you are likely to hear
today. It's as if Sir John rehearsed
them specially for this moment. I also
love the woodwind contributions which
chirrup and twitter like in few other
versions and lay the groundwork for
a "folksy" reading of the Wayfarer theme
which seems to light up this section
with a rare gayety. In the transition
into the development notice how Sir
John refuses to yield to the temptation
to slow down. He is aware, as he seemed
to be in all his Mahler, of the importance
of balancing inner detail with outer
structure and this can be felt right
through the whole performance. For "performance"
it is, as this is one of those recordings
which really sounds like it is being
given live. Again the detailing of the
woodwind is superb as the horns announce
for the first time what will be the
"clinching" theme of the movement. Under
Barbirolli this also conveys a remarkable
sense of a page having been turned in
the "story" of this work. The burst
of the climax at the start of the recapitulation
has grandeur but it's still part of
the overall structure and in keeping
with Sir John's lyrical, folksy approach.
He really manages to convey the many-faceted
nature of this movement to a degree
that is rare. The Scherzo is tremendous
as the main material trundles along
with weight and a welcome ungainliness,
aided by some cheeky "up-slides" from
the strings, which is surely what the
young Mahler meant us to hear. Overall
it's so refreshing to hear this movement
given the respect it deserves as too
often it's almost thrown away. In the
Trio Sir John manages to stay a few
steps short of mannerism and the effect
is of an ironic comment on what immediately
precedes and succeeds it. In the third
movement the double bass solo at the
start is lugubrious, full of character
and heralds a reading that rivals Walter's.
Barbirolli recognises the parody, the
many-layered depths, the grotesques
and the ironic humour. Why can't more
recent conductors simply listen to a
recording like this one too and learn
from it ? When the episode with the
first band music interjections arrives
Barbirolli just seems to move into a
different gear, chivvying the music
along deliciously, sleazily too, and
with so much native character it's hard
to imagine anyone could possibly play
this in any other way. I also liked
the way that in the Wayfarer quote at
the heart of the movement Sir John manages
to maintain the march beneath: a small
touch but one that sums up so many like
touches in this great recording. In
the return of the march Barbirolli,
like Walter again, gives it a slightly
different bent. With Sir John it's a
case of accentuating the kaleidoscopic
textures, more chivvying of the band
and a new tinge of the unhinged. The
fourth movement brings one of the finest
interpretations on record. There is
dash and energy in the opening, the
strings especially darting and diving
as if on fire. The transition into the
lyrical second theme is exemplary in
its focus too and the string ornament
in the theme itself take us back to
another age, to Mahler's own time, perhaps,
giving a hint of how this might have
sounded under the composer. Maybe Barbirolli
just intervenes too much in the big
tune, but it's marginal. There is abandon
and energy in the central section where
every aspect is taken care of, including
the famous "luftpause", usually
conspicuous by its absence. The recall
of the opening material that climaxes
on a further presentation of the lyrical
second theme glows and the coda brings
a sense of joyous release that needs
no slowing down of tempo or bawling
of brass. This is another Mahler First
that should be in every collection.
There are drawbacks, it must be admitted.
The playing of the Hallé Orchestra
of 1957 cannot match its more famous
international rivals in corporate elan
or weight of tone. Their playing has
the air of the homespun and there are
a handful of rough patches. Strings
are thinner too, lacking saturation
quality. However, the Hallé's
sheer commitment and the way they respond
completely to what their conductor asks
of them should win over all but the
most hypercritical.
Another conductor with more than one
recording to his credit is Leonard Bernstein.
His final one with the Concertgebouw
Orchestra of Amsterdam on DG (4273032
purchase)
is the most easily available and I believe
his best. His first movement is one
of the finest on the market. It opens
with a dreamy haze, beautifully wafted
along by woodwinds and fanfares from
great distances. The Wayfarer theme
in the exposition is sweet and unadorned
and there's just the right amount of
brooding presence at the start of the
development, with a special nod to the
cuckoo calls which come over as quite
malevolent. He builds to the great outburst
at the climax of the development to
give a real sense of arrival and charges
to the end with plenty of momentum.
The main Scherzo material is splendidly
trenchant and with a heavier gait than
usual, but when the Trio arrives Bernstein
starts to take the extra hand in proceedings
that will, for me, ultimately spoil
this recording. He can't resist swooning
and hamming in music that really can't
stand it: trying to make it too worldly
and the result is mannered. In the third
movement Bernstein takes a surprising
decision over tempo to deliver a quicker
performance than everyone else. I think
he's trying to accentuate parody but
at this speed I don't see how he can.
Even the band music interjections fail
to make a real effect and no amount
of expression by Bernstein can really
help at this tempo. At the start of
the fourth movement there are a couple
of agogic distortions which I find more
irritating each time I hear them. Apart
from this, however, the playing of the
orchestra is second to none, as it is
elsewhere, conveying well the angst
of world-storming youth. Inevitably
Bernstein slows down to the transition
to the lyrical second theme but delivers
the theme itself in a relatively straightforward
way. There are a few more underlinings
to be heard in the central section but,
on the whole, I enjoyed Bernstein's
sense of urgency. It's interesting to
hear that, unlike other colleagues,
he didn't seem to lose his energy as
time went on, but I wonder if he gives
too much away prior to the real climax
of the movement which comes at the end.
The last "look-back" to the start of
the work before the onslaught of the
coda is as effective as the opening
of the symphony with a climax big and
eloquent. The coda itself is marvellous
with fabulous playing from the Concertgebouw
conveying a tremendous feeling of joy.
I just wish Bernstein could have resisted
hitting the accelerator in the closing
pages. The insertion of the extra thwack
from the bass drum on the final note
might be as the result of a later insertion
by Mahler himself on the score in the
possession of the New York Philharmonic.
With a little reservation, a fine recording
with a great Mahler orchestra, sumptuously
recorded.
The current Chief Conductor
of the Concertgebouw Orchestra is Ricardo
Chailly and he has recorded this symphony
for Decca (448 813-2 purchase).
These players and their predecessors
have been playing Mahler for a longer
continuous period than any other orchestra,
but compare the Concertgebouw under
Chailly to that under Bernstein and
the difference is considerable. The
engineering by Decca is first class
and in the introduction the birdcalls
and horns against sustained strings
are magical. The Wayfarer song in the
exposition is sweet and refined and
you can hear the acoustic of the Concertgebouw
when the music fills out. I do just
wonder whether the sound is too ample,
too grand, for the distinctive sound
of this symphony, though. The transition
into the development seems intent on
beauty again but I did think the first
soft horn announcement of what will
be the clinching theme should have been
retaken as it's almost inaudible - unless
this is what Chailly meant. However,
there's a nice line in cello slides
and a very idiomatic trumpet to compensate
as the development builds. Chailly's
is a romantic view then, but not one
that leads him into mannerism and self-indulgence.
I do miss the tang of Kubelik, Horenstein
and Walter even though I find Chailly
persuasive in parts. In the second movement
the Scherzo is chunky and confident,
but the Trio has a touch of Bernstein
in that it's slow enough to lose momentum.
Chailly delivers a fine third movement
with a very insidious bassoon highlighted,
but since we have identified beauty
as the keynote of this recording it
isn't surprising Chailly appears to
"prettify" the band interjections. On
the whole he does show more awareness
of changes in mood in this movement
than Haitink whose recording I have
now decided to discard from this survey,
even though he is still some way from
the quirkiness and black humour of Kubelik,
Horenstein and Walter. The "oom-pahs"
in the re-appearance of the funeral
march have some sense of the idiom we
should be aiming for but in the whole
of this recording the effect is cumulatively
like a scene from Breughel as viewed
from behind the windscreen of a Ferrari
- Mahler in an Armani suit ! In the
last movement there's great playing
and recording to enjoy, especially the
superb weight in the opening and the
transition into lyricism is well-managed
with a seamless continuity many of Chailly's
contemporaries could learn from. He
also maintains tension in the central
section, leading us on with his sheer
commitment. Here, at last, his performance
does take fire and there is no question
this is the best movement in the recording
even though Chailly's priorities seem
to prevent him exposing uglier manifestations.
Not for him the raucous abandon of Horenstein
or Kubelik, for example. He will maintain
his impeccable manners at all times.
Those looking for a modern sound recording
above musical consideration need look
no further.
Next I would want to
mention the version by the Chicago Symphony
Orchestra conducted by Pierre Boulez
on DG (459 610-2 purchase).
The idea of Boulez in Mahler is anathema
to some people. How can "The Ice Man"
possibly bend to Mahler's emotions,
many ask ? My reply is that Boulez is
just as capable of bending to emotions
as any conductor and it seems to me
it's frequently only prejudice that
pre-disposes people against him. His
First Symphony recording is more than
worthy of comparison with the greatest
of the past and is also distinguished
by marvellous playing from the Chicagoans
and a recorded sound encompassing every
facet of this magical score. Indeed,
it's the way the recorded sound assists
Boulez's ear for detail that is the
greatest impression one takes away from
it. As the first movement progresses
there is a real sense of each sound
being sifted and refined anew, but not
at any expense of lyricism and natural
expression. It's a fine balance Boulez
brings off between inner detail and
outer structure, I think. Lovely transition
from a more focused introduction than
that of Chailly also, and all the spontaneity
you could ask for in the climaxes. In
the second movement Boulez adopts quite
a quick tempo so some character is lost
in comparison with other versions, but
there is certainly a gain in energy.
The Trio is notable for its delicacy
and turns this movement into a more
classical structure in the process.
Boulez brings out the latent tragedy
in the third movement funeral march
very well. There is quite a heavy tread
which, coming after the lighter second
movement, makes a fine contrast. His
band interjections have less of the
grotesque than I would expect (or believe
appropriate), however, and this is a
pity. As you would expect, the power
and virtuosity of the Chicago Symphony
Orchestra is apparent at the start of
the fourth movement and the transition
into the lyrical second subject is as
seamless as the best with a main theme
that is itself a model of poise and
restraint. It's at moments like this
that those who dislike the idea of Boulez
in Mahler would nod and say "Ah, 'The
Ice Man' Cometh". My reply would be
that there are great Mahler conductors
of the old school who play it just the
same and Boulez shows himself in the
best tradition. The rest of the movement
doesn't disappoint with the heavens
stormed magnificently, the start recalled
in as clear-sighted a way as before
and a coda that genuinely energises.
It's comforting to know that, even at
this stage in the performing tradition,
it's possible for a conductor to almost
re-think a score and deliver something
that truly refreshes and fascinates.
I still prefer "the old guys", but Boulez
should not be overlooked.
Now to one of the two recordings conducted
by Sir Georg Solti. The one I have chosen
is his first with the London Symphony
Orchestra available on a two disc set
from Decca (448 921-2 purchase)
coupled with his first recording of
the Second Symphony. I choose this because
I think it's to be preferred to his
second recording in Chicago. Not that
I rate Solti's readings that highly,
as you will see. It's just that those
aspects of his general approach to this
work, and to Mahler in general, that
I take issue with seem accentuated in
the remake. There is a real sense of
foreboding in the introduction to the
first movement. It seems to carry too
heavy a weight and, as the cellos climb
up the scale to meet the exposition
proper, there's a more robust character
to the music that I think is misplaced.
The development section carries on this
feeling of one-dimensional clarity and
when the brass bursts out at the great
climax into the recapitulation there
is a sharp edge to the sound which will
be the keynote of this recording. The
second movement Scherzo is very fast
indeed and with absolutely no relaxation
in the trio, so I don't feel the movement
makes any real impression. The solo
double bass is superb at the start of
the third movement (Stuart Knussen ?)
and Solti is certainly aware that this
is very particular music needing special
treatment. Even so, I felt the first
interjections of the cafe band are too
ordered and drilled to make the kind
of effect Mahler may have wanted and
which is to be found in other versions.
The Wayfarer song quotation here certainly
doesn't have the sweet repose of Kubelik
or Walter. Like so much else in this
recording we are given just what lies
on the surface and no more. There are
good "oom-pahs" in the closing section
but, on balance, I sensed more of a
Wagnerian approach coming through. The
virtuoso brass playing of the LSO in
the fourth movement opening is sharp
and edgy, reminding us, if we needed
it, just how brass-dominated Solti's
view is. He also indulges the transition
from the opening material and the lyrical
second theme which he then moulds and
shapes in a very calculated manner indeed.
It's all very heavy-handed. The sharp
brass playing is in evidence again in
the central "false" climax and the overall
impression is of something "full of
sound and fury, signifying nothing"
which is also how the climax to the
nostalgic recall before the coda strikes
me too. There was a time when this recording
was praised to the heights but that
was when Mahler recordings were far
fewer than now. Solti's view will be
loved by many still and his second recording
with the Chicago Symphony will delight
those who like his first even more.
To me it seems to take all of what I
count as negative elements and accentuates
them.
The First Symphony
was the second release in Michael Tilson
Thomas’s Mahler Symphony cycle from
San Francisco (SFS Media 8211936-0002-2
review).
This is most recommendable and all the
more surprising for a very recent recording
when the competition is so great. I
think it worth saying, though, that
there is much less that can "go wrong"
for the conductor in this work. The
intellectual and emotional challenges
are less. Provided he has a first rate
orchestra at his disposal and doesn’t
try to weigh down work with too much
of life’s later baggage what is very
much a youthful work then he should
produce a satisfying version at least,
and Tilson Thomas does far more than
that. I admire especially the way he
understands when to be serious and when
not and in so doing he covers the multi-faceted
nature of the piece and therefore takes
in that youthful quality which I think
so important. He never tries to paper
over the cracks in what is quite an
episodic piece either. Almost revelling
in the inexperience of the way it’s
put together. He keeps tempi up in the
faster sections, stressing energy, but
in the more contemplative passages brings
out the imagination of the young Mahler
very well also. Just occasionally he
cannot see a gallery without playing
to it, as we shall see, but this symphony
is robust enough to stand it. The introduction
to the first movement has just the right
mixture of dream and clarity, the latter
from some precise woodwind to disturb
the old-world texture. This leads into
a really jaunty and well-sprung delivery
of the first subject "Wayfarer" song:
a good example of Tilson Thomas’s propensity
to spring the rhythms so well. I also
liked the string slides at the start
of the development section and the very
precise stabs from the bass drum a little
later well recorded. Touches like this
involve the listener. At the climax
of the movement Tilson Thomas’s colouring
of the music continues to be imaginative
and overall there is just the right
amount of rhetorical moulding leading
to a joyous dash for the end. This latter
is a mood continued into the second
movement which is breezy and confident,
stopping only for a very witty delivery
of the Trio with the catch in the waltz
rhythm beautifully pointed out. In the
third movement the double bass solo
at the start for the "Bruder Martin"
theme is far too well mannered and there
is unfortunately nothing unusual in
that, as I said earlier. Knowing what
a perceptive and keenly attentive Mahlerian
Tilson Thomas is I am still surprised
he appears to fail to get the point
of the solo like so many - or rather
his principal player does. Tilson Thomas
judges well the "Klezmer" passages
a little later in the movement making
the arrival of the other "Wayfarer"
quote in the centre, warmly and affectionately
phrased, contrast so well with it. So
why not the double bass? I am sorry
to press this point but it continues
to perplex me why conductors cannot
deliver what is needed. The return of
the "Bruder Martin" march in
the closing passage of the movement
is distinguished by malevolent squawks
from the clarinet and the distinction
with which the deep brass play the counter
theme. This latter contribution provides,
for me, a moment of adolescent world-weariness
that made me smile: a lovely touch matched
only by the march music that seems to
re-cross our path like something not
too distant from the neighbourhood of
Charles Ives. With this conductor on
the rostrum, this is not such a fanciful
notion. The opening of the fourth movement
is distinguished by some powerful brass
playing well caught by the wide range
of the sound recording. Tilson Thomas
does hold back and coax out the big
theme of the second subject more than
he perhaps should but, as I wrote earlier,
this symphony can stand quite a bit
of such coaxing. Just as well really
because this is the movement where he
allows himself more of the kind of rubato
and ritardars he would have learned
by example from his mentor Leonard Bernstein
- most notably in the coda where he
"grandstands" unashamedly. Don’t misunderstand
me. It is thrilling to hear it played
like this once in a while. But it does
make me wish the decision had been taken
by the producers to leave in the applause
that must have greeted the close of
any of the "live" performances from
which this recording has been made.
I think the end of the work, as played
like, this would have sounded more appropriate
with the sound of hands clapping after
it. The playing of the San Francisco
Symphony Orchestra is sharp, alert,
colourful and committed. The brass is
especially distinguished with attack
and depth. The sound recording does
have a wide dynamic range so a few volume
adjustments will be necessary, but nothing
too troublesome. Among modern recordings
this one certainly deserves consideration.
Set against classic versions of the
past and present it is hard to justify
recommending it as a "must have", though
it makes it in here for superb playing
and engineering.
When Ricardo Muti’s
recording with the Philadelphia Orchestra
(EMI 5 749632 purchase
) was first released in 1984 a lot of
publicity was generated by the choice
of venue for the sessions. EMI had just
begun working with Muti and the Philadelphia
in their, then new, long-term partnership.
But with time running out before the
sessions for their first release they
had despaired of finding a studio to
use instead of The Old Met or The Academy,
both of which were unsuitable. Then
a chance conversation with a gardener
at Fairmount Park just outside the city
by engineer Peter Dix led them to an
indoor baseball court in one of the
wings of the park’s Memorial Hall that,
after some imported acoustic panels
had been pressed into service, proved
ideal for recording. The sound of this
great orchestra here comes across with
a bloom and depth that never gets in
the way of important details that themselves
emerge in an almost ideal perspective.
In fact it is the playing of the orchestra
that most impresses on first hearing.
There is no part of this wonderful score
that they are not on top of. The pleasure
of hearing what was then and still is
one of the greatest orchestras in the
world playing this music is as good
a reason for buying this recording as
any over and above what qualities Muti
might bring. Of course Ricardo Muti
is not known as a Mahler interpreter.
You could say that with this recording
of the First Symphony he was just a
visitor to the Mahler canon. Indeed
I’m not aware he has ever performed
any other Mahler symphonies since this
recording. But there is no need for
that to put us off giving it a fair
hearing. Of all the works in the Mahler
canon this is the one that is most likely
to yield up fine results from such a
visitor. Taken in isolation from the
works to come, the First can still be
viewed a great big nineteenth century
romantic symphony with lots of big tunes
and big moments and this is generally
how Muti treats it. No special insights,
therefore, no impressions of this as
first chapter in a musical biography,
just superb playing and faultless execution
in near-ideal sound. The distant atmospherics
of the first movement’s introduction
are floated beautifully before us, for
example. It is a rather still landscape,
however. Not one that shimmers as evocatively
as it can. A landscape without figures,
you might say. I also feel that once
the main material of the exposition
gets underway the introduction appears
much more detached from it than usual.
A sign of Muti’s Mahlerian inexperience,
perhaps. Later on the development has
superb poise but note the careful portamenti
on the cellos. These are correct rather
than idiomatic: the score being obeyed
rather than read and understood. Listen
to Horenstein recorded in Vienna in
the 1950s for the real Mahler experience
here, though the contrast in sound could
not be greater. The great orchestral
outburst prior to the recapitulation
with horns whooping like bridling stallions
is built to and delivered with great
sense of power in reserve at first then
a real feeling of release. This is the
first time in the recording that you
have the chance to hear the fine acoustic
of Memorial Hall playing its part and
I’m sure it will impress you as it did
me. In the second movement the superb
lower string articulation is a good
example of the stunning orchestral playing
to be heard throughout the performance.
Perhaps Muti does just see this movement
as only a jolly set of dances, though.
In many ways this is what it is, but
others can find far deeper resonance,
especially in the sickly trio. In the
hands of a Kubelik or a Horenstein or
a Bernstein it really pricks at the
imagination more where Muti is a little
too cultured and refined here to get
beneath the skin. Is he perhaps still
in the first flush of excitement at
standing before such players and wants
to show them to their best advantage?
The third movement begins very subdued
and veiled. The lack of any real character
and grotesque in the solo double
bass opening again suggests to me that
Muti is really skating the surface of
this music, again just obeying the score
rather than understanding and probing
it. As the movement progresses that
dapper refinement I noticed in the second
movement is still to the fore. In a
movement that is one of Mahler’s most
early distinctive creations this is
certainly a loss. However, again I cannot
but praise the beautiful playing of
the orchestra and the excellent balance
of the sound and likewise all through
the last movement. Though here it’s
now a case of a great virtuoso orchestra
simply being given its head to revel
in that new acoustic and the obvious
confidence they have in their new Music
Director. Here is all the power and
depth of sound that you could wish for
in a performance of this movement. But
I was also impressed that never in the
big romantic tune this movement contains
does Muti ever become self-indulgent.
He certainly has enough grasp of what
is going on not to divorce such a wonderful
melody from what surrounds it and pull
it about like some ham actor reciting
romantic poetry. At the very end the
coda towers and storms but is likewise
never coarse, never shouts at us and
loses its temper. There is real eloquence
at the end with the horns especially
well recorded to round off a performance
I was glad to get to know again, even
though it can never be a front recommendation.
In the final analysis Mahler’s First
Symphony is much more than the eloquent
showpiece for great orchestras that
Muti and the Philadelphia deliver. However,
full marks to EMI’s engineering team
for capturing them on the wing and for
reissuing this superb recording. A performance
to stress this symphony as a stunning
orchestral showpiece, with sound recording
and playing of the highest order.
Next, two recordings
that might get overlooked, which would
be a pity. Herbert Kegel (Berlin Classics
0090382BC ) has a very persuasive way
with the main "Wayfarer" theme
especially and puts a real spring into
the steps of the rhythms. I also liked
the unashamed way he gets the strings
to swoop in the portamenti asked
for or expected. It is surprising how
many conductors shy away from this.
In fact the string playing throughout
this recording is of a very high quality
and note that this is the Dresden Philharmonic
not the more famous Staatskapelle, but
they need not fear any comparison. I
also admired the way Kegel gradually
increases speed as the end of the movement
approaches, winding up a good momentum
to carry us to the end. The second movement
has a surprise at the very start in
that Kegel introduces an empathic and
unmarked accent into the dance rhythm
I have never heard done before. It could
even become annoying on repeated hearings
but there’s no doubt it’s distinctive
and the orchestra appears behind Kegel
all the way with those string slides
again apparent later on. The overall
tempo for the scherzo is steady and
ungainly and I find this more persuasive
than some of the more impatient interpreters
we sometimes hear. The vibrato on the
horn opening the trio tells us we are
east of the Iron Curtain but it’s not
too troublesome. The trio itself is
very suave and knowing and I found myself
smiling all the way through as it seems
as if Kegel might even be sending the
music up. What an engaging guide to
this work Kegel is. When the main scherzo
returns that added accent I noted the
first time round has gone, which is
interesting to say the least. Reedy
and oily is the best description for
the double bass solo in the third movement
and Kegel certainly does little to smooth
out the contours of the opening as some
can. You can hear the harp tolling too,
which is not always the case. I was
also surprised and delighted to hear
one of the best evocations of the Klezmer
band passages from an East German orchestra,
but that is what we have here - the
sharp cymbals and the way Kegel suddenly
accelerates the tempo every time the
band intervenes helps immeasurably.
When the funeral march resumes after
the soft "Wayfarer" quotation
at the heart Kegel surpasses himself
with the band interjections and a feeling
of winding down to the end. The final
solo from that bassoon is very effective
before the storms that follow in the
last movement. After these have subsided,
I’m always impressed to hear a conductor
keep the bridge passage that leads into
the big tune in tempo, as Mahler requests.
The big tune itself finds a deeply passionate
treatment that stays within the bounds
of good taste with again the distinguished
string playing already noticed. In terms
of execution and virtuosity this orchestra
does lack the whip-crack style of some
of their more famous rivals. This movement
also exposes a lack of real tone in
the brass section that bray a little
when playing full out and it is here
the recording balance, though natural
and open in a quite large church acoustic,
shows its analogue origin. But the playing
from all departments is committed, idiomatic
and full to the brim of Mahlerian colour.
Not least in the emotional core of the
whole work where Mahler brings back
the birdcalls and the morning mood of
the opening prior to the great peroration
at the close. No one could fail to be
moved by Kegel’s response here. The
coda itself is quite fast and some will
find that a minus. I suppose I do too,
but in the context of such a lively
and interesting recording I can forgive
Kegel for driving to the end with such
gusto. In concert this would have raised
the roof, which is what Mahler was trying
to do after all. A fascinating performance
- for me it was a real find - with much
to enjoy and reflect on. Not quite top
flight but very well worth investigating
and a real find..
Another recording which
might get overlooked is by Gunther Neuhold
and the Badische Staatskapelle (Bella
Musica BM-CD31.9042). On the cover we
are told that this is "Mahler’s
First Symphony in its original version".
But this is not the case. What we have
is another recording of Mahler’s First
that includes "Blumine" as
explained above. Having got that off
my chest let me now deal with the music
because I wouldn’t want it to deter
you from considering this recording.
It’s easy to overlook labels, orchestras
and conductors with whom we may be unfamiliar
and in this case that would be a pity
as this recording is capable of holding
its own among stiff competition. In
the first movement Neuhold and his orchestra
manage the opening harmonies well with
a fresh rather than a dreamy opening,
and I always prefer it like that. Neuhold
is one of those conductors (Kubelik
was another) who appreciate that this
is a young man’s composition with lots
of lift and vigour to it. Within that
he can make his cellos play some lovely
slides and the climax of the movement
bursts out with a great feeling of release
following excellent preparation. As
I wrote above, "Blumine" is
then placed second on the disc so I
would advise you to programme the CD
player to skip over it and play it later
as a separate item. That said, I like
the way that Neuhold treats this as
a fleet intermezzo but with a sweet
trumpet at the centre and, once again,
idiomatic string playing. By the arrival
of the Scherzo we can hear how much
Neuhold grasps the particular sound
of this symphony. The high woodwinds
impress and the "ground-bass"
of the lower strings too. Notice also
the slight slowing down for the trio
section that Neuhold here presents as
a delicate little dance. In what is
usually the third movement the solo
bass player goes some way further than
many colleagues in making his instrument
sound distinctive, but not as far as
he might. The pace of this movement
is just right to allow the "café
band" passages to tell, though.
Then the "Wayfarer" emotional
core comes over as beautifully withdrawn
and chaste. The effect of the movement
is like a series of layers Neuhold pulls
back one by one. The last movement bursts
in impetuous and raucous. The great
theme after the storm is excellently
phrased without a hint of mannerism
and I like the way the Neuhold keeps
the whole movement bowling along with
panache. In the coda there is weight
but also joy and a sense of release
bringing to an end a "live"
performance that fully deserves the
warm applause of the audience who have
been so well-behaved I had no idea they
had been there until then. A really
good recording of the First Symphony,
lively and sensitive in all the right
places. More desirable versions are
available showing even greater insight,
as outlined above, but there are some
full-priced versions that suffer by
comparison.
Represented here are
some superbly engineered recordings,
some great playing and some great conducting.
There are many other recordings of this
work on the market, of course, but none
of those that I have heard add any more
to the ones above and certainly none,
in my opinion, surpass the best. There
is a fine recording by Mariss Jansons
(Simax PSC 1270) made in Oslo, for example,
but as it is coupled with a disappointing
Ninth it cannot really be considered.
Kurt Masur is dull, Colin Davis is too.
Yoel Levi is very well-recorded but
is only a "surface-scratcher",
as is Seji Ozawa. Klaus Tennstedt in
Chicago is wonderfully caught "on
the wing" by EMI (CDC 7 54217 2),
a real "ride of your life"
as always with him but, for me, he overcooks
the dish with excessive excitement in
the wrong places. The recordings by
Rattle, Maazel, Zander and Gielen are
good as First Symphony recordings to
go with those conductor’s complete cycles
but not, I think, quite the equal to
those outlined above as individual recommendations.
Inbal conducts a fine First too but
as his is only available as part of
his complete cycle I will deal with
it in my survey of boxed sets, likewise
Gary Bertini‘s.
To sum up, Kubelik
on Audite, Barbirolli on Dutton, Horenstein
on Unicorn, Walter on Sony, and Bernstein
on DG, with Kegel as a "wild-card"
are the current Mahler First recordings
for a lifetime.
Tony Duggan