Triple A's - Mahler 9, Myun-whun Chung, Royal Concertgebouw Amsterdam at the Elbphilharmonie

Life-affirming Mahler Symphony no 9 from Myun-whun Chung, conducting the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Amsterdam, from the Elbphilharmonie, Hamburg.  Triple run of A-Listers ! One of the best conductors around, one of the best orchestras heard in the wonderful acoustic of the Elbphilharmonie. The RCOA has probably done more Mahler than most orchestras, Chung is a Mahler specialist too  so excellence was to be expected,  but wow, was this good !  Really great musicianship at this standard challenges and stretches our appreciation of the music itself.  
There is never any one way to do good music so thank goodness there are musicians who care deeply enough about the music to approach it with such insight. The market for performances that fit listeners’ preconceptions will always be greater than the market for anything new but that's more to do with received opinion. These days many prefer C or D listers because they're less likely to get in the way of fixed certainties. So the more you listen and the more widely you listen, the less the likelihood of fixed positions.  And Mahler's music is so very much open to new possibilities and new horizons.  

Myun-whun Chung, credit Jean-Francois Leclerq, Askonas Holt

In this case, Chung's life-affirming interpretation, brimming with life and the love of life, proves that there is so much more to the symphony than the old cliché that M9 is only about death.  Maybe one day audiences will catch up on the amount we've learned about Mahler, the man and his music in the last 50 years. From the early songs and Das klagende Lied to the final stretches of what was to be the tenth symphony, a powerful life force surges, which cannot be defeated.  The second, third and fouth symphony address the world beyond and in the 8th and Das Lied von der Erde,  there are concepts of tranfiguration onto another plane. 
A wonderfully rich first movement, low timbred winds and brass lit by harps, and strings that move like gentle breezes - always  a sense of movement - andante commodo, an open hearted embrace of life and its diversity.  For a "pulse" this is, suggesting the human body at rest, calmly breathing.  Gradually the palpitations built up towards expansive outbursts, as if invigorated by the flow of life.  When silence descends, marked by timpani ans strident brass, the effect is chilling.

The harp ruminates, and the steady pace resumes.  The music flares up again, fractured angular shapes suggesting tension, alarm and a spiralling descent into darkness, and a wall  of mournful winds and brasses, and at last, a glowing coda, like embers yet undimmed. In Das Lied von der Erde, the poet fears death because he loves life too much to let go. enjoys life too much to leave it. Thus the gradual coming to terms, which also influences the first movement of the 9th, and its culmination, where the orchestra soars in an outburst of defiance. To really understand Mahler, it helps to think of the works as part of a continuum. 

A vigorous second movement, marked "Etwas täppisch und sehr derb".(rustic, simple, earthy). Why Ländler? Ländler are danced by peasants who till the soil, who know that seasons change and that harvests return after winter. This movement is much more than folklore and quaint kitsch, connecting yet again to themes of change and rebirth that run through so much of Mahler's work.  Earthy in that sense doesn't necessarily mean crude, especially when considered in the context of the interpretation as a whole. There's humour here, not grotesque per se. Pan awakes, bringing life !  The pace whipped up, propelled along with force, yet once again, the dance returns, for dance, like Nature, moves in rhythmic cycles.  Poise, more so than turbulence is of the essence.This idea of change and renewal informed the third movement, written in rondo form. A chill seemed to descend with the wild, almost manic figures, the "burleske" mocking any ideas of simple comfort.  Has frost cut down the harvest?  Dark bassoons murmured, the strings went quiet, yet again  from this desolation a melodic string line arose, rising upward. (The violist looked exactly like my father, which for me added poignancy).  Chung captured the sense of forward movement - the trumpet line like a horn in the Alps, resonating from peak to peak. Great walls of sound, looming like cliffs, yet tiny details, like the triangle clearly audible.

In the final movement, Chung again brought out the sense of flowing movement, the "rondo" of the changes of seasons and the passage of time. Thus the growling low brass, as if sounds were coming from the bowels of the earth, while high, string tessituras evoked something more transcendant.  The orchestral Leader (who looks like young Brahms) delineated his line so it seemed to shimmer, weightlessly.  Many of these players would have worked with Bernard Haitink, legendary for the spiritual transparency he could bring to this symphony.  When the warm surge that characterized Chung's first movement returned, the idea of cyclic change felt reaffirmed.  The idea of differences reconciled in the figures for oboe and flute, moderated by harp, and the magnificent coda, where the strings en masse rang out in glowing chorale, leading the orchestra onward, ever forward.    Please listen here, it's wonderful. 

Ádám Fischer Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra Mahler 9 with chamber refinement

Ádám Fischer and the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra in Mahler Symphony no 9 in the Barbican Hall. A gala occasion !  Unmissable, even though the Vienna Philharmonic comes to London nearly every year.  Their sound is unique - playing so burnished that you want to weep with sheer joy.  Live performance is infinitely more of an experience than listening to recordings. Live you can sense the interaction between players as the performance unfolds, and pick upon intangibles that enhance your engagement with what's evolving before your ears.  Musicianship is a lot more than technical sound quality!  The Vienna Philharmonic are a good  Mahler orchestra and their playing can, and has, added depth and richness to this symphony before, many times.  Ádám Fischer's a good Mahler conductor too.  So what was missing ?

"The very first bars of Mahler’s Ninth seem to falter", read the Barbican publicity blurb. Oddly prophetic. The Andante is comodo, a comfortable pace, but here "comfort" overtook pace.  Perhaps someone had taken the rest of the Barbican blurb too literally, which continued "The stricken composer put the rhythm of his failing heart into the orchestra – and began  his Ninth Symphony with a sigh of farewell". The idea of Mahler’s 9th as a symphony obsessed with death may have been fashionable for a while in the 1960's and 70's but it simply does not sit with the composer's output as a whole. Nearly everything Mahler wrote dealt with the annihilation of the creative spirit, for which death is an obvious  symbol. But in nearly ever case, he defeats death by creative transformation. Consider Das Lied von der Erde: "Allüberall und  Ewig/Blauen licht die Fernen!Ewig... ewig.....".  Professor Henry Louis de La Grange's lifetime contribution to Mahler studies demonstrates that there was a lot more to Mahler than maudlin neurosis : that clarity of vision and intelligence made him the artist he was.  And now we have what remains of what would have been Mahler's Tenth Symphony,  the once fashionable approach to the Ninth cannot be sustained.

But back to Fischer and the Vienna Philharmonic.  The first movement seemed to meander, without the sense of purposeful direction that so often underpins Mahler's music : consider how often his symphonies incorporate marches oif some form or other.  Here the first and final movements form pillars holding up the structure of the symphony. That sense of overall architecure is the foundation of the symphony.  Fortunately, though, the sheer virtuosity of the players in the Vienna Philharmonic was of such exceptional character that one could marvel at the playing, its elegance and warmth offsetting all else. This does make a diffrence. Any symphony is built on smaller component units where the particular combination of instruments sharpens focus.  We can listen to this symphony any time, but not often with such sheer beauty and poise.  Every desk seemed to contribute : the  communality of ensemble made this performance seem like chamber ensemble writ large.  Every desk had something to contribute - exceptional prinicpal flute, wonderful "soloists" all round. It's not often that the piccolo player can be heard as a star turn ! 

The second movement Im Tempo eines gemächlichen Ländlers was better articulated overall.  Here the players of the Vienna Philharmonic showed theiur understanding of the idiom. For all their finesse, they understood why dance "is" vigour, energy channeled into purposeful co-operation.  Mahler 9 as ballet, in the sense of short, well-executed episodes which fit together to form a coherent whole. Waltz is Ländler in more sophisticated form.  Thus the Rondo-Burleske cut through the bonhomie like a scythe. "Death" here suggesting frost before harvest. The brass attacked with a chill, the strings flying, with well defined vividness.  The performance ignited, for a while, but the Adagio could have had a stronger sense of purpose.  Wonderful strings, vibrating with feeling, but not hyper-ventilating : if the movement depicts a living organism its breathing should be steady. I loved the low timbred winds and brass against the ascending string line.  This final movement can dissipate into ever more refined, more transparent, until audible sound becomes one with eternity.  The Vienna Phil has the ability to create such miracles better than most.  Perhaps not so this time where it proceeded without the inspiration that can make this symphony feel like a powerful force of life.  So this didn't quite have the architecture this symphony needs, but with playing as exquisite as this, it hardly mattered !

Photo: Roger Thomas

 

Mahler Symphony no 9, Daniel Harding Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra

Mahler Symphony no 9 in D major, with Daniel Harding conducting the Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra, new from Harmonia Mundi. A rewarding performance on many levels, not least because it's thoughtfully sculpted, connecting structure to meaning. 

A graceful first movement, respecting the marking  andante comodo "comfortable pace". The harp and strings here have a mellow richness which enhances the gentle rhythmic pulse.  For "pulse" this is, suggesting the human body at rest, calmly breathing.  Gradually the palpitations build up towards expansive outbursts, as if invigorated by the flow of life.  When silence descends, marked by timpani ans strident brass, the effect is chilling.  The harp ruminates, and the steady pace resumes.  The music flares up again : tension, alarm and a spiralling descent into darkness, and a wall  of mournful winds and brasses. Yet again, though, steadiness prevails.  Celli and bassoons lead the way ahead. Harding shapes the flow by highlighting the fanfares, so the undertow can be heard without undue exaggeration.  Now, when relative silence returns, the mood is pure and calm: the  high, clear pitch of the woodwinds is exquisite, evoking, perhaps, memories of summer, a typical Mahler touch.

Thus we are prepared for the second movement, marked "Etwas täppisch und sehr derb".(rustic, simple, earthy). Why Ländler in a symphony some still associate with death ? Ländler are danced by peasants who till the soil, who know that seasons change and that harvests return after fallow times. This movement is much more than folklore : it connects to the theme of change and rebirth that runs through so much of Mahler's work. The Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra plays with gusto, Harding gauging their strengths.  There's humour here and impish high jinks. The spirit of Pan awakes !  Thus the lively leaps ans swirls, the flow of the first movement returning in exuberant form. The pace whips up, propelled along with force, yet once again, the dance returns, for dance, like Nature, moves in rhythmic cycles. The movement ends with a smile - a deft, piping little figure.

The Rondo in the third movement was vigorously animated. The pace is now near-frenzy, strings and winds flying free, though steady beat can still be heard in the lower voices.  Nonetheless, though the spirit may be wild, Harding doesn't lose shape. We hear the violin emerge, its way lit by harp.  In the tumult, the swaying palpitations of the first movement revive in burlesque parody.  Indeed, much of this symphony is like dance, motifs returning in guises. Two slow movements at each end, taken slow, encasing two fast-moving inner movements.

If the first movement was comodo, the last is stately, even majestic in its sweep. The strings take charge, lifting above and away from the orchestra, much in the way that birds take flight above the earth.  Their line shimmers, undimmed, though the sound is rich.  Bassoons moan,  suggesting depth, which intensifies the heights the strings are striving towards. The leader plays a keening, soaring line at a tessitura so high it's almost ethereal. The "pulse" of the first movement is back, now transfigured, no longer bodily but spiritual.  At the end, sounds  become so pure that they dissolve, as if beyond human hearing.

Although this was the last symphony Mahler completed, there is no evidence that he was contemplating his own death. From what we now know about his life, from the events of his life, and also from what we have of what was to be his Tenth Symphony, he wasn't just looking backward any more than in so many other of his works where death is vanquished by new life.  It is significant that when Harding, aged 20, was Claudio Abbado's chosen assistant in Berlin, he was given the Tenth to study, at a period when many conductors were still performing only the first movement.  Learning a composer back to front is not a bad thing, especially a composer like Mahler whose work forms  a huge trajectory from beginning to  to end, where an understanding of overall structure makes a huge difference.

Transfiguration : Mahler Symphony no 9 Bernard Haitink, London Symphony Orchestra, Barbican

"Where words fail, music speaks"  These words were spoken by Gareth Davis, Chairman of the London Symphony Orchestra, before this performance of Mahler's Symphony no 9 with Bernard Haitink conducting the London Symphony Orchestra, at the Barbican Hall, London.  These words will be repeated over and over, for so they should be.  How can we respond, as decent people, to events like the bombing in Manchester? There are no quick-fix solutions.  But in uncivilized times, having faith in the power of higher ideals  may help, or at least offer the comfort of hope. We can, of course, listen to concerts with complete detachment, but emotional engagement adds to the experience. Our response to this performance could not but be coloured by events.

Because the Ninth was Mahler's last completed symphony, connections are often made with imminent death. Yet from first to last,  Mahler's symphonies chart transitions : from death to resurrection, from struggle to transcendence.  Das Lied von der Erde, Mahler's "true" ninth, quite explicitly connects death with renewal on a different plane of existence.  The "farewell" in Symphony no 9 is not annihilation but the journey from past to future.  Bernard Haitink has probably conducted more Mahler in his long career than most, yet he continues to develop.   Live perfomances are always "new", only recordings remain fixed, like specimens in a jar.   Eight years ago, he conducted this symphony with the same orchestra : the notes were the same, but the performances quite distinctive.

The gentle, palpitating motif at the beginning flowed into blazing, more expansive outbursts   A constant sense of shifting movement, bright horns and trumpets contrasting with the measured "footsteps" in the strings, echoed in the percussion.  The palpitating motif returned repeatedly, in different forms, ever moving forward.  Much is made of Bernstein's description of the motif as heartbeat, which is valid, and which is why it's so often referred to.  But abstract sounds can mean anything, depending on context.  From what we now know of Mahler's music and his personality, I think we can proceed towards a more open-ended interpretation, taking into account his interest in wider metaphysical ideas. In the next few days, we'll be seeing images of funerals - not only in Manchester, but, alas, all over the world. children die, and keep getting killed.  Whatever is at the root of this mindless attrition, thinking beyond self and more about others, might be part of the way forward.

Thus in this performance, the connotations were less militaristic march than purposeful traverse, as if the protagonist were trudging across mountains, toward a goal. Chills descended, nonetheless, but the melody leads on.  Hearing the violin and flute (Roman Simovic and Gareth Davis) in dialogue, I thought of Siegfried and the woodbird.

The second movement employs different dance forms. But why Ländler? Dance is physical movement, often in circles, with repetitions and small individual variation.  And why the marking  "Etwas täppisch und sehr derb"?  (rustic, simple, earthy). Perhaps the allusion is to nature and to fertility.  In Das Lied von der Erde, Nature does the work. In the Ninth Symphony, farmers toil.   Harvests mean plenty. In the violin perhaps we hear village musicians, sometimes local, sometimes journeymen.  But the rhythms are driven, with frenzy. all too soon winter comes and the ground lies fallow. Here the LSO, brilliant players, re-create the edgy, almost angular rhythms, which fade "into the mists", so to speak, of strings, harp and brass.  The palpitating figures in the first movement returned, in new variation, and the "march" pulled urgently forward, percussion crashing, brass ablaze.

The chill in the Rondo-Burleske was almost palpable, as if the strings were shivering.  Has frost cut down the harvest?   Dark bassoons murmured, the strings went quiet, yet again  from this desolation a melodic line (violin) arose, rising upward.  But the best was yet to come. The Finale was so refined that it seemed to come from another realm.   The high tessitura shimmered so beautifully that the music seemed bathed in ethereal light.  Upwards and upwards, the sounds levitated, counterbalanced by gentle diminuendos.  How does Haitink get players to hold lines with such poise and refinement? 
He knows the LSO well, and they love him in return.  It must be some kind of alchemy.  When they performed this Finale in 2009, I could hardly hold my breath for fear of missing a moment.  This time round, even more refined transparency. The music doesn't "end" so much as becomes rarified, transmuted onto another plane of existence, beyond what the human ear can comprehend.  If Mahler's Ninth is a symphony of death, something happens along the way, which leads to total transfiguration.  And so, back to the phrase "Where words fail, music speaks". Absolutely necessary in these times of hate and madness.

Photo: Roger Thomas

Interpreting Mahler 9th - Bernard Haitink

In a career spanning over 60 years,  much of which was spent with one of the great Mahler orchestras, Bernard Haitink has probably conducted more Mahler than anyone else. Recordings tend to shape opinion, but recordings aren't "real life" but only snapshots of a moment, which, once past, is gone.  Musicians like Haitink can't churn out the same thing all the time.  Thus the importance of constantly learning, constantly re-thinking  and developing.  And always, drawing insight from source. "Conductors should not treat Mahler as a "free for all", Haitink once said, "Mahler's symphonies should not be treated as fantasies, rhapsodies. They are very carefully structured. He was a conductor, he knew very well what he was doing. Emotion is there but one should not tilt the balance".
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Because the 9th was Mahler's last completed symphony, the myth has it that it must be gloomy and death-ridden. Such interpretations are valid, if they reflect a conductor's response. Hence Haitink's comment that interpretation should stem from understanding not wilful intervention. Emotional intelligence enhances nuance: the wider the emotional range, the greater the capacity for understanding. Modern scholarship shows that Mahler was an intellectual, who could see beyond surface sentiment. Unlike many of his era, he didn't get off on the pornography of death, but tried to consider what might lie beyond.  He loved life, and nature and the power of the soul to transcend earthly limitations. Throughout his entire output run themes of transformation and renewal.  Fifty years ago, we weren't familiar with what Mahler completed in what's now known as his Tenth symphony.  We can't blank that out. So bang goes any theory of histrionics in Mahler 9th.

Haitink has conducted Mahler 9th many times, so it's pointless to think he does a "standard" version.  But one performance sticks in my mind because it moved me so much.  It was in London, in 2009. I wrote then that he "produced a performance of ethereal, spiritual clarity, so pure that it felt like abstract art. As Haitink said, the coda is "timeless", soaring ever higher until it disappears from human hearing. To Haitink it is a "farewell" but not in a maudlin sense, but in the sense that Mahler is heading into unknown territory, where earthly constraints no longer apply. Mahler is stretching the boundaries, heading towards a new beginning. That's why it's so exhilarating.

Almost immediately, Haitink establishes the ground rules. He gets a surprisingly sweet, warm sound from the London Symphony Orchestra -- completely different from the sour crudeness Gergiev produced. Instead, Haitink gets the strings to play with such gossamer lightness that the sound seems to rise into the air. Open horizons, endless possibilities, the finale already in sight. Suddenly the pace steps up with the striding theme led by brass. Things move forward. There's definite, purposeful direction beneath this delicate spirit.

It's not for nothing that Mahler was a keen hiker who spent much time in the mountains. Think back to the "mountain peaks" of the Third Symphony and the panoramic vistas that unfold. Here we hear them again, when Mahler might have thought his hiking days over. Haitink's light touch brings out the sub-themes, which swirl like wind, circulating in spirals but always pushing forward. From this evolves the solo violin, played by the leader, Gordan Nikolitch. Even by his standards, this was exceptionally beautiful. The violin soars but doesn't take off on its own. Instead it dialogues with the flute, here played with great delicacy by Gareth Davies. It's like watching two birds flying together. Then the violin takes flight and soars ever higher beyond the reach of the flute. Because the second movement is titled Im Tempo eines gemächliches Ländlers, it's easy to assume it's a straightforward depiction of country dances, but Mahler has been using these images so often that we know he's not entirely literal. Haitink doesn't exaggerate the dance aspects, not even the muted swagger. Mahler's instructions were that these passages should be played "clumsily", the way real peasants move. The orchestra is solemn and dignified, trying very hard to be earthbound, for soon the mood will change.

Haitink even finds dignity in the Rondo-burleske. Defiance doesn't need to be violent. Indeed, this muted tension seems to spring from sources too deep to be easily defused, and is all the more powerful for that. Stamp, stamp go the angular rhythms, like an impatient beast pounding the ground. Against this suppressed savagery, the notes of the harp take off, flowing up the scale, an image of light, yet again.

When the final movement begins. it's clear from Haitink's reading that it's a resolution of what has gone before. This Adagio seems to lift off, rising higher and higher. It moves in ever increasing circles like a bird hovering over the earth. The "stamping" theme of the Rondo burleske surfaces in muted form but is left far behind. Haitink plays this orchestra so well that the music seems to grow, smoothly and naturally, like an organic being. Gradually. literal detail fades into abstraction. Are we seeing the world below disappearing like a bird might see it when entering clouds? The final lift-off is magical, the sound receding as if it were being drawn up into the stratosphere. If Mahler has headed off, it's into the transcendent light, the Urlicht, which has fascinated him all along."

Listen - Daniele Gatti dirigeert Mahler 9

Listen HERE to a live recording of  the opening concert of the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, from August 2013. It's Mahler Symphony no 9, conducted by Daniele Gatti, who was confirmed lasst week as the new Chief Conductor of the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Amsterdam. The news was hardly "news" in the sense of being unexpected, since orchestras tend to appoint conductors whom they know well, and who are good in their core repertoire. Gatti is also high profile , which matters in an ultra-prestige appointment like the Concertgebouw. Gatti is reliable, with enough flair to make an imprint.

The more intriguing story is what may be going on behind the scenes. Earlier this year, Bernard Haitink decided that he'd never again conduct  the RCO, with whom he's been associated so closely for half a century. (Read my article here)  Pointedly, he marked his 60th anniversary as conductor by conducting the RFO, with whom he started as a young man. Haitink's been emeritus for a long time, so it was even more of a shock when Mariss Jansons suddenly announced his departure from the RCO, while continuing as chief of the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, where he's contracted until 2018. There's some evidence that the RCO is running into financial trouble, but that alone wouldn't deter anyone from an orchestra with the RCO's prestige and reputation  Read more here.

And HERE another Gatti concert, from 2010 - Prokofiev, Brahms and Richard Strauss.

Norrington's Mahler Prom 14

Taking shots at easy targets is not my style. So Norrington's Mahler 9 was my night off from the Proms. Norrington's approach has been interesting sometimes, like his world's fastest Meistersinger overture which really zipped along. I have a lot of time for early music zaniness. But it doesn't sustain. In the1990's I listened to some Norrington and appreciated what he was doing even if it was not my scene. In the mid 2000's there was a huge surge in popularity.  Five or 6 years ago, there were Mahler fans who thought of vibrato in pop star terms, ergo "nil" vibrato must be a good thing. Influential as these folks were, they probably hadn't heard much Mahler.  Nonetheless, I listened to the recordings of Norrington's M4 and M9 (no, that was only last year it must have been M1 in mid 2000's)  Since I don't follow fashion, I thought, yikes! (though the M4 worked surprisingly well). I caught a bit of Prom 14 by accident and thought, "He's doing exactly the same thing as he did years ago". Why is quite an interesting question. What drives him, I wonder?  I don't take potshots but here is someone who does, often on the verge of libel. Under the  nastiness there are grains of reason. Which still does not justify the nastiness so I am thinking of deleting it. After this no-one dares be seen liking Norrington so fashion has moved on. But I do think in a way we should admire Norrington for persisting in what he believes in.

Eschenbach Mahler 9 LPO / database hoarding

Christoph Eschenbach can always be relied upon to find something original to hear in Mahler, so his Mahler 9th Symphony with the London Philharmonic Orchestra at the Royal Festival Hall on Friday was eagerly awaited. My tickets were bought a year in advance. Gosh, was I looking forward to this!

But I was underwhelmed. Obviously the fault is not Eschenbach, who has conducted this symphony many times before and knows what he's doing. Since I never do things the easy way, I won't just write negative, but for a change, think about why and how we respond to what we hear.

Obviously fatigue was a factor for me, with so much going on in the last few weeks (three conferences, more than a dozen concerts, most heavy, and four operas). Also I haven't been feeling well, even missed the premiere of Ferneyhough O Lux on Wednesday. On the other hand I usually can find the stamina for Mahler. Though no-one can conduct four concerts in a row! (grin)

Maybe it was a bad night for everyone. Christopher Maltman likes singing Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen, although it's better suited to a more agile, lighter-limbed voice than his. Perhaps Maltman was under the weather too, for his voice seemed trapped, as if his lungs weren't expanding to fill out the sound. He's a good enough singer to know when something's not right, so I felt his pain (rather than the pain of the protagonist in the cycle). He must have felt even more frustrated than I did, though I suspect most people didn't notice. Eschenbach probably did, as he slowed the orchestra down, giving Maltman more room, but Maltman, concentrating so hard entered too early at one point. Still, good marks for effort.

Eschenbach's forte is clarity, a good value for Mahler 9th where the music seems to rise upwards until it disintegrates into the ether. (read more HERE) Getting to that level depends on starting with the goal in mind. Eschenbach's done it before, so I was surprised by the first movement. At first, it felt like Eschenbach were letting the LPO do their thing, which is valid enough, but ultimately, it's not a good idea for conductor and orchestra to pull in different directions. Oddly flat playing in some sections, but that's not fatal. Unlike Beckmesser, I don't carry a slate and stick.

The orchestra seemed to want to do fulsome Romantic way, which is fair enough, but Eschenbach knows his Mahler well enough to have his own ideas on interpretation. Swooping legato in the orchestra, which would have done credit to Brahms. Eschenbach's hands snap suddenly, breaking the line and restoring balance. Actually quite an interesting effect, but ultimately it's more satisfying when orchestra and conductor are on the same track. A perfectly good enough performance though. Eschenbach will always be a million miles more interesting than many others. Why Michael Tilson Thomas or even odder, Lorin Maazel?

Which leads me to think about reputation and musicality. Tilson Thomas and Maazel get the gigs because they're famous though they're so safe they kill the music. Eschenbach, Rattle, Boulez and even Abbado get flak because they're famous. It's a kind of reverse snobbery, perfectly human, but means applying non-musical values. But musicians in orchestras like these aren't so stupid and have more experience than many of their detractors.

What anyone thinks doesn't matter nearly so much is how they've arrived at what they think. For each person who forms an opinion by thinking carefully, there will always be a thousand who have no idea what they're talking about but need to make waves. There used to be, and maybe still is, a fashion for collecting reviews, extracting phrases out of context and then producing an uber-survey. (Beware of cut and paste reviews too, which can be dodgy.)  Such things look authoritative but are worthless. "Database Hoarders",  they used to be called, pundits who live in cyberspace not reality.

It's a crock, however impressive. But it needs facing because modern technology is changing the way we think. Everyone has opinions, but how do we sort them out? There will always be more who don't know or care than those who do.  That's not elitist, that's just life. Majority means nothing. Opinions are not equal, so the idea of treating them as data is fundamentally flawed. They are only valid in context and can't be mechanically processed. Ultimately, there is just no sunbstitute for the long process of listening, learning, developing a broad perspective.

Abbado Mahler 9 Lucerne live August 2010

Claudio Abbado conducted Mahler 9th Symphony at the Lucerne Festival this evening, broadcast live on arte.tv. Abbado's Mahler is always superlative, but this was wonderful. Lucerne means a lot to him, as does this orchestra, his pride and joy.

Abbado looks older and frailer than usual, which may or may not give an edge to his performance. Mahler's Ninth Symphony is valedictory, even though the idea that it's obsessed with death has long been squashed. Mahler is looking back, for he's reached a kind of crossroads in his life.

Yet he's also looking forwards, into the unknown. That amazing finale, where the music soars ever upward, higher and higher, floating free, above petty concerns. The Ultimate Sublimation in music, perhaps, but I think, and perhaps Abbado thinks, it's life-affirming.

There's warmth in this symphony, even humour - the cheeky piccolo that cuts through the solemn brass, the lively whips of sound that enliven the long planes. In the  second movement, Im Tempo eines gemächlichen Ländlers., the painfully nostalgic violin gives way to a build up to crazier forces. In this performance, the peasant dance was wild and  wacky, sudden switches of mood, like fleet footed dance steps. A bit like fate, which throws the best laid plans. So nimble, in fact, that the TV camera didn't catch the violin's interjections at one point.

Focus on where the symphony is heading, because with Mahler, there's always a goal, which colours all that leads towards it.  The last movement begins with strings alone, "the voice of the individual", unsupported and alone. In this performance, the strings were exquisitely dignified. At the beginning of a long journey, no need to rush. Many little Ruckblicks, reiterations of themes that have gone before, like memories. Muffled horns, a brace of oboes and  restrained bassoon, just audible enough against the gossamer cloud of strings.

The Lucerne Festival Orchestra is exquisite, the finest musicians in Europe coming together because they know each other well and love working together. They're like extended family, and some are family, most of them so familiar it's like seeing old friends. Kolya! Sabine! you think, which adds an extra dimension to the experience. The intimacy shows in the playing - such coherence, such sensitivity, as if they're a huge chamber ensemble. These players have such fluent control, they hardly seem to be playing at all, as if the music was floating naturally out of them. Last year Bernard Haitink's Mahler 9th at the Proms with the LSO was wonderful, but the Lucerne Orchestra is simply in an altogether more elevated league . 

Almost unbelievably luminous textures, such refinement that the music seems spun from light. Each new stage reached leads to another, even more rarified, like air in the Alps, the purer the higher you go. At the end, Abbado looked exhausted, like he'd been reaching the peaks in his soul. For a long time he stood silent. Suddenly his eyes opened wide in wonder. Throughout the symphony I could hardly breathe, so intent on "being" with the orchestra, so when the sounds ceased, it felt like extra bars existed beyond the score. No way was this Mahler's "final word". He leaves the music open ended, as if its floating on its own volition, beyond what mere mortals can hear.

Hopefully this concert will be broadcast again, on demand. In the meantime, there are DVDs of Abbado's Mahler at Lucerne to enjoy. Each performance is different, of course, and this one was specially moving because it's such a mature reading. Abbado and this orchestra go back a long way together, but this performance feels like theirs is a journey that won't end, even after the music stops. Irrational, perhaps, but since when did music this sublime have to be rational?

Please see my other pieces on Mahler, plenty on this site. Use search button or labels. There will be more, because it's Mahler year, but it would be hard to beat Abbado's Mahler/(though watch out for the coming Berliner Philharmoniker Mahler season. Many of the Berliners play at Lucerne).  And listen to Eschenbach's Mahler series with the Orchestre de Paris online. PLEASE also see what I've just written about Abbado's Mahler 7 at Lucerne in 2005.

Mahler 9 as abstract art - Haitink, Prom 5 2009

Conductors should not treat Mahler as a "free for all", says Bernard Haitink. "Mahler's symphonies should not be treated as fantasies, rhapsodies. They are very carefully structured. He was a conductor, he knew very well what he was doing. Emotion is there but one should not tilt the balance".

Please see HERE for more on Haitink and Das Lied von der Erde.

Because the 9th was Mahler's last completed symphony, the myth has it that it must be gloomy and death ridden. Sometimes extreme anguish can work, such as with Horenstein's two recordings, the second of which is almost too painful to listen to. Horenstein is valid because he's expressing real feelings inspired by the music. He's not indulging himself in imagined pathos for its own sake.

But there is more to Mahler than agony. Modern scholarship shows that Mahler was an intellectual, who could see beyond surface emotions. Unlike dotty Victorian sentimentalists, he didn't get off on the pornography of death, but strived to understand what was beyond. He loved life, and nature and the power of the soul to transcend earthly limitations.

In this amazing Prom, Bernard Haitink produced a performance of ethereal, spiritual clarity, so pure that it felt like abstract art. As Haitink said, the coda is "timeless", soaring ever higher until it disappears from human hearing. To Haitink it is a "farewell" but not in a maudlin sense, but in the sense that Mahler is heading into unknown territory, where earthly constraints no longer apply. Mahler is stretching the boundaries, heading towards a new beginning. That's why it's so exhilarating.

Almost immediately, Haitink establishes the ground rules. He gets a surprisingly sweet, warm sound from the London Symphony Orchestra completely different from the sour crudeness Gergiev produced. Instead, Haitink gets the strings to play with such gossamer lightness that the sound seems to rise into the air. Open horizons, endless possibilties, the finale already in sight. Suddenly the pace steps up with the striding theme led by brass. things forward. There's definite, purposeful direction beneath this delicate spirit.

It's not for nothing that Mahler was a keen hiker who spent much time in the mountains. Think back to the "mountain peaks" of the Third Symphony and the panoramic vistas that unfold. Here we hear them again, when Mahler might have thought his hiking days over. Haitink's light touch brings out the sub-themes, which swirl like wind, circulating in spirals but always pushing forward. From this evolves the solo violin, played by the leader, Gordan Nikolitch. Even by his standards, this was exceptionally beautiful. The violin soars but doesn't take off on its own. Instead it dialogues with the flute, here played with great delicacy by Gareth Davies. It's like watching two birds flying together. Then the violin takes flight and soars ever higher beyond the reach of the flute.

Because the second movement is titled Im Tempo eines gemächliches Ländlers, it's easy to assume it's a straightforward depiction of country dances, but Mahler has been using these images so often that we know he's not entirely literal. Haitink doesn't exaggerate the dance aspects, not even the muted swagger. Mahler's intructions were that these passages should be played "clumsily", the way real peasants move. The orchestra is solemn and dignified, trying very hard to be earthbound, for soon the mood will change.

Haitink even finds dignity in the Rondo-burleske. Defiance doesn't need to be violent. Indeed, this muted tension seems to spring from sources too deep to be easily defused, and is all the more powerful for that. Stamp, stamp go the angular rhythms, like an impatient beast pounding the ground. Against this suppressed savagery, the notes of the harp take off, flowing up the scale, an image of light, yet again.

When the final movement begins. it's clear from Haitink's reading that it's a resolution of what has gone before. This Adagio seems to lift off, rising higher and higher. It moves in ever increasing circles like a bird hovering over the earth. The "stamping" theme of the Rondo burleske surfaces in muted form but is left far behind. Haitink plays this orchestra so well that the music seems to grow, smoothly and naturally, like an organic being. Gradually. literal detail fades into abstraction. Are we seeing the world below disappearing like a bird might see it when entering clouds? The final lift off is magical, the sound receding as it were being drawn up into the stratosphere. If Mahler has headed off, it's into the transcendent light, the Urlicht, which has fascinated him all along.

In this Prom, Haitink is aligned with the light-infused, spiritual approach to Mahler, like Boulez and Abbado, rather than Bernstein, Gergiev et al. This is where performance practice has been leading to for forty years. But Mahler's anniversary is coming up, and with that comes crass self-serving commercialism. Already there's pressure to package the composer so he'll sell to the populist market as "operatic" or "Wagnerian", downplaying just how unique he really was. Even Bruno Maderna gets called an "arch modernist", which is odd news, particularly to those who've actually heard Maderna conduct Mahler.


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