MAHLER Symphony No. 3 1. BRAHMS Piano Concerto No. 1 2 • Jascha Horenstein, cond; 1 Helen Watts (a); 1 Dennis Egan (posthorn); 1 Denis Wick (tbn); 1 Highgate School Ch; 1 Orpington Junior Singers; 2 Claudio Arrau (pn); 1 London SO & Ch; 2 French Natl RSO • ARCHIPEL 557, mono (2 CDs: 145:01) Live: 1 London 11/16/1961; 2 Montreux 9/17/1962


Sometimes you come to appreciate some of the conducting legends of the past when you have first listened to one of the conducting duds of the present, and that was my experience with this Mahler Third. I had just suffered (yes, I believe that is the precise word) through Carla Delfrate butchering the music of French opera composers when I put on this Mahler Third. The difference in musical intelligence, feeling, phrasing, rhythmic lift, and correctly judged tempos was like escaping the River Styx and being elevated to Valhalla.


Yet even without such a quantum leap in conducting quality, one cannot escape the feeling that this Mahler Third was indeed one of the great, even momentous, concerts of the 20th century. Shockingly for such a late date, this was its first professional performance in England, and those familiar with Horenstein’s work will know that the British were extremely lucky to have him for this concert. Just about the only negative thing one can note about this recording is the somewhat dry mono sound—good for a 1961 broadcast (indeed, better than Horenstein’s equally legendary Mahler Eighth) but still restricted in sonics. But heavens, what a performance! I actually think that Horenstein’s performance of the first movement even outstrips that of Georg Solti, which up until now was my all-time favorite reading of it, largely due to the more finely detailed layering of the instrumental texture. Despite the boxiness, you hear everything, and every instrument or instrumental group seems to have something important to add to the overall “story” of the music. Nor was I alone in my reaction: At the end of the movement, the London audience does something highly uncharacteristic for the British at an orchestral concert: they roundly applaud the first movement. It’s quite an achievement, and it seems almost incredible that this is its first-ever commercial release.


Moreover, unlike Solti (and even unlike his Nonesuch studio recording of this Symphony with the same orchestra), Horenstein’s intensity and musical drive never slacken in this performance, not even for a millisecond. Seldom have I heard the second movement played so exquisitely, the strings singing sweetly and the rhythmic underpinning simply astonishing. Many years ago, before I began reviewing, I bought, heard, and was disappointed by James Levine’s Mahler Third recording, and I was only slightly more impressed by a live performance he gave with Jessye Norman as the mezzo soloist in Carnegie Hall. I couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong with it, but this Horenstein performance has everything right about it that Levine simply got wrong. Perhaps too much “devotion,” too much psychoanalyzing Mahler at the time he wrote it, and too little of just digging into the score and translating it into sound? It’s hard to say at the remove of 40 years, but let’s just say that Horenstein has the full measure of this Symphony while Levine only had a fair idea of it.


Now, one should be aware that Horenstein’s view of the score is not always 100 percent what Mahler wrote. He sometimes ignores tempo changes and gives his own spin on the music, but to my ears everything he does in this performance works well. Not to keep beating the same drum, but that first movement is an excellent example. In the studio recording, it went along at an almost dirge-like pace; here, it is utterly dynamic and thrilling. In both the studio and live versions, the posthorn solo is beautifully played by Dennis Egan, and this is one moment in this broadcast where the sonics are good enough to give the listener a fine sense of “space.” Helen Watts’s singing is rich and beautiful, although not quite as expressive in detail as Janet Baker with Michael Tilson Thomas (Sony-CBS) or Ewa Podle? with Antoni Wit (Naxos), my other two favorite Mahler Thirds. The Highgate School Choir is superb, having that sound that one somehow instinctively associates with British children’s choirs. Horenstein’s tempo in the last movement is brisk when compared to other Mahlerians (21:13 compared to Tilson Thomas’s 26:13 or Wit’s 25:31), which some listeners may interpret as a race to the finish on Horenstein’s part, but just listen to the feeling he elicits from the LSO; and, at this clip, the movement lacks its usual “draggy” feeling, as if it were an interminable exercise in bathos. Now, of course, it can and does also work well at the slower tempos that Tilson Thomas and Wit use, but that is the magic of Mahler. His symphonies, unlike almost any others I can think of, can withstand nearly any and every tempo change one can put into them. The only thing they cannot withstand is a boring reading, and boring is not a word one can apply to this performance.


As a bonus (since the entire Third Symphony clocks in at a few seconds under 90 minutes) we age given an equally spectacular reading of the Brahms Piano Concerto No. 1 with Claudio Arrau as soloist. My readers know that I like but do not really love Arrau as a pianist; everything he played was good and usually had the right style, but many of his performances and recordings are no better than those of several other pianists. Here, however, he truly sounds caught up in the moment, not least due to Horenstein’s exquisite shaping and phrasing of the music. Although I still love Fritz Reiner’s dynamic 1954 account with Rubinstein and Max Fiedler’s old-world and slightly eccentric (but still musical) performance from the early 1930s (with Alfred Hoehn as soloist), there is just something so shapely and well-phrased about Horenstein’s reading of the orchestral part that it grabs your attention and doesn’t let go. Arrau takes a while to heat up—his entrance is played very well but not with any particular abandon, but then just listen to the way he responds with both remarkable fire and stunning nuance to the equally nuanced playing of the French Radio and TV Orchestra. The best way to describe this performance, overall, is as an alternation of a singing line with ebb and flow against the dramatic outbursts, the latter never dull but also never so explosive that they ruin the line of the music. Oh, there are many of those among our young conductors today who could learn a thing or three from Horenstein about phrasing! True, the strings in the last movement sound a little scrappy, but no matter. The musical treatment and intensity of this performance trumps technical polish.


Archipel provides absolutely no liner notes with this release, not even a sentence or two to tell prospective buyers who Jascha Horenstein was. Even though I know that a recording like this is aimed at the collectors’ market, that very few people will bother with a 53-year-old mono recording of the Mahler Third when they can get digital stereo from Tilson Thomas, Wit, or the late Claudio Abbado (another outstanding version), but I still feel that the label owes it to those few who are under age 30 and buy this release to let them know who Horenstein was and explain his importance. Otherwise, I recommend this set highly.


FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

Classical Music

Benjamin Zander conducts the Philharmonia Orchestra in Mahler’s hugely popular ‘Resurrection’ Symphony in a GRAMMY-nominated recording. Exceptionally challenging and thrillingly powerful it is the perfect showcase for Zander’s distinctive balance of insightful musicianship and emotional intensity. With London’s famed Philharmonia Orchestra, he is recording the complete cycle of Mahler symphonies, recordings which have been received with extraordinary critical acclaim and several awards. Zander’s recordings of Mahler symphonies have inspired critics worldwide to use superlatives such as ‘revelatory’, ‘exhilarating’, ‘illuminating’ and ‘remarkable’. The featured soloists are Sarah Connolly, one of the foremost British mezzo-sopranos who has impressed at La Scala and Glyndebourne, and Swedish soprano Miah Persson, who is in great demand with the major opera houses including Royal Opera House Covent Garden, Metropolitan Opera New York.

This performance isn't perfect technically: the chorus gets a little bit off the beat in its first stanza, there are a couple of unimportant brass flubs, and alto Anny Delorie has issues with her memory and with an extra wide vibrato. However, purely as an essay in great Mahler conducting, William Steinberg turns in a performance as powerful, both in its parts and as a totality, as anyone ever has. He gets a superb response from the orchestra, and there are moments here that really do set a new standard in this music: the second movement, for example, is the best yet recorded--the string playing is simply miraculously sensual and romantic. The scherzo, at a measured tempo, offers a clinic in characterful woodwind detail. Indeed, the prominent winds recall Klemperer and add a thrilling rush to moments such as the big choral in the finale, with its trilling piccolos.

More importantly, Steinberg captures the emotional intensity of this work as have few others. The climax of the first movement, the scherzo's "scream of despair", and the "dead march" in the finale express genuine rage and terror. Steinberg's control of tempo is absolute; he manages transitions with effortless mastery. The symphony's closing chorus, with the organ particularly well-balanced, seldom has been delivered more convincingly. Off-stage perspectives are unusually effective; indeed, given that this is a 1965 live performance, the stereo sonics are far better than any studio versions of the same period. In short, this is a "must" for all serious Mahlerians, as well as a worthy memento of a seriously underrated conductor.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

World-renowned conductor Bruno Walter was particularly well acquainted with Gustav Mahler's work, and was employed as his assistant at the Hamburg Opera at the time Mahler's Second Symphony was given it's premiere in Berlin. Walter prepared his precise and imaginative "reduction for piano" soon afterwards and in close collaboration with the composer. Bruno Walter regarded the "Resurrection" Symphony as one of his mentor's key works, from the "dramatic struggles" of the first movement to the "lightning bolt" that inspired it's sublime choral finale.

In my experience nothing beats this remarkable Haitink account.

On those very special occasions the excellence of the music and the quality of the playing and live atmosphere can combine to produce something quite special. So it is with this Profil disc.
 
Every year on 13 February a memorial concert is given in the German city of Dresden to commemorate the anniversary of the terrible World War Two allied air raid carried out in 1945. The night bombing left large tracts of the city in ruins and thousands of people dead. Traditionally a requiem mass has been given at the memorial concert. However, in 1995 to mark the 50th anniversary of the Dresden devastation Mahler’s Resurrection was presented. Performed at the Dresden Semperoper this massive score was considered to have the appropriate character to complement the solemn occasion. At these Dresden anniversary concerts it has been the tradition for the audience not to applaud before or after the performance. Instead the audience stand in quiet remembrance before leaving the hall. Incidentally, Haitink also performed the same Mahler score at Rotterdam in 1990 to mark the 50th anniversary of the destruction of the Dutch city by German bombers.
 
The opening movement originated as a symphonic poem entitled Totenfeier (Funeral Rites). It was composed in 1888. Between 1888 and 1894 Mahler laboured hard on his five movement symphony undertaking revisions in 1905. At the time Mahler was still carving out a name for himself as a conductor so work on the score was confined to his spare time, mainly during his summer holidays. Owing to the progressive nature of the writing, its unconventional design, the extended length and the massive forces Mahler must have hardly dared to imagine that he would ever hear it performed during his lifetime.
 
The first performance was given at Berlin in 1895 with the composer conducting the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra. In this score Mahler attempts to explore the existence of humanity in its entirety using sung text in the final two movements. In the fourth movement the text is from the collection of German folk poetry known as Des Knaben Wunderhorn (Youth’s Magic Horn), The fifth movement uses text from Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock’s ode Die Auferstehung (The Resurrection). Then Mahler uses his own words beginning with O glaube, mein Herz (O believe, my heart). It was the composer’s friend Oskar Fried who first recorded the symphony in 1924 with the Berlin State Opera. The complete version of the Resurrection was introduced in Dresden in 1901 by conductor Ernst von Schuch, general music director of the Staatskapelle Dresden. Maestro Haitink’s stunning live account which was broadcast on the radio has so much going for it. The persuasive Haitink fashions the architecture and space of Mahler’s vast symphony splendidly, avoiding any sense of affectation. This reading feels completely spontaneous. Born in Amsterdam, maestro Haitink brought with him to Dresden a pair of renowned Dutch singers, Margiono and van Nes.
 
Right from the opening Allegro maestoso the weight, bite and sheer power of the Dresden orchestra is striking. There’s impressive pacing throughout with beautiful playing especially in the more lyrical passages. Although all sections impress I found the stunning playing of the brass and woodwind highly dedicated and perfectly in unison. The exquisitely scored second movement Andante moderato with its gentle Ländler feels so light, poised and elegant. It feels like a mid-nineteenth century dance hall in Vienna. As the music briskly develops in weight the sound produced is remarkable especially from the golden-hued Dresden strings. Towards the conclusion of the movement the swirling strings can make the listener dizzy. When attending a concert I love to watch as well as hear the section with guitar-like strumming by the violins and violas, and the delightful pizzicato from the cellos. Sounding like gunshots the timpani strokes announce the opening of the third movement Scherzo. The writing draws on the captivating melody from Des Antonius von Padua Fischpredigt ( St. Anthony’s Sermon to the Fishes). I love the way that Haitink underlines the acerbic sarcasm. In the section reminiscent of a klezmer band the schmoozing clarinet solo has the patina of Jewish folk music. The angry brass outburst is especially striking as is the potency of the pent-up energy released in Mahler’s agonised thrust. This puts a brisk halt to the bucolic frolicking.
 
Urlicht (Primeval Light) from one of Mahler’s own Wunderhorn songs is the title of the fourth movement. A real highlight is the entrance of Jard van Nes, rich and mellowed toned, commencing with the words O Röschen Rot! ( O red rose!). It’s a yearning declaration for respite from world weariness. I believed every word, such was her expressive power and clear diction. Van Nes also has an attractive timbre and supple projection. Following on closely is the rather brief and spiritually affecting chorale. This is intoned splendidly on the brass with woodwind playing of an elevated quality. The final movement Im Tempo des Scherzos, opening with Mahler’s terrible scream of anguish, is given such tremendous weight it feels terrifying before it decays into mere dust. In the ‘wilderness’ section the off-stage brass make a sure impression with the Dies irae chorale followed by blazing brass. The great drum-rolls at 10:06-10:24 are striking and shook me right down to my boots. A distinct martial quality to the brass fanfares is interrupted only by tetchy woodwind and angry percussion. Off-stage brass lingers in a lament interspersed with a flurry of birdsong on flute and piccolo. At 20:39 the Dresden chorus enter with the words Aufersteh’n, ja aufersteh’n wirst du ( Rise again, yes rise again you will). It feels mellow and tender and makes a spellbinding impact. The text O glaube, mein Herz ( O believe, my heart) is sung at 27:28 to magical effect by Charlotte Margiono with her secure technique and appealing tone. Both Margiono and van Nes combine with the heavenly Dresden chorus for the words O Schmerz! Du Alldurchdringer! ( O suffering! All pervading or O all-piercing pain!). With singing of such quality from the impeccably matched soloists and chorus one might be excused for thinking they - and we - had been transported to paradise. The final section begins with the familiar Viennese string sound that soon develops in sheer weight. The massed forces, including organ and percussion battery, combine in a thunderous climax; the most remarkable that I have heard on disc.
 
Recorded live in 1995 for radio broadcast at the Dresden Semperoper the engineers have produced a warm sound that is clear and well balanced. Although a live recording I struggled to hear any significant audience noise and as I explained earlier there is no applause after the conclusion of the score. I found the substantial Profil booklet notes exemplary being especially highly detailed.
 
At this poignant 50th anniversary concert the magnificent playing was outstanding right from the high strings playing the softest pianissimo to climaxes of sonically massive proportions.
 
I have numerous recommended versions of the Resurrection but nothing beats this remarkable Haitink account.
 
-- Michael Cookson, MusicWeb International

This great and popular series continues from Audite. This performance is taken from the Bavarian Broadcasting Company tape of a concert in Munich on October 8, 1982. Other titles in this series are Symphony No. 1 (Audite 95.467), #5, (Audite 95.465) and # 9, (Audite 95.471). This series will sell. Check now and make sure you have at least one in stock in each store.

Ever since the young Rafael Kubelik (1914-96) became acquainted with the music of Gustav Mahler - primarily through conductors such as Bruno Walter, Erich Kleiber and Fritz Busch - his fascination with it never again left him alone. He pressed forward with the Mahler Renaissance in post-war Germany against initially reserved public and critical attitude. As Music Director of the BRSO, he realized one of the first complete Mahler cycles. On 180g Virgin Vinyl, Mahler’s Second Symphony appears here in a live recording from the Herkulessaal, Munich captured on 8 December 1982.

The Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra and their Music Director Riccardo Chailly have already acquired legendary status – glorious reviews and many awards for their recordings testifying to their continuing success. At Leipzig’s International Mahler Festival, to mark the centenary of Mahler’s death, they performed his monumental Second Symphony in the Gewandhaus – together with two marvellous soloists and choral forces quite beyond compare. About the final movement the composer said: “The increasing tension, working up to the final climax, is so tremendous that I don’t know myself, now that it is over, how I ever came to write it.” The painting "Morgenrot" was chosen by internationally acclaimed artist Neo Rauch to feature on the cover of this release on DVD and Blu-ray.
Recorded live at Gewandhaus zu Leipzig, 17 and 18 May 2011.

Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: PCM Stereo / Dolby Digital 5.1 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, German, French
Running time: 95 mins
No. of DVDs: 1 (DVD 9)

Note: This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players and not compatible with standard DVD players.

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Having reviewed a slew of Twos on CD over the past few months I decided I had to make room for this much-lauded Blu-ray from Leipzig. Recorded as part of the 2011 International Mahler Festival it’s one of two video recordings from that event – the other is Chailly’s Mahler Eight – available on both DVD and Blu-ray. Up until now EuroArts has had something of a monopoly on this repertoire, having given us most of the Abbado cycle from Lucerne and the Boulez Mahler 2 from Berlin. Despite some technical issues with the Abbado Blu-rays, it’s a fine collection and a worthy companion to Leonard Bernstein’s quirky set of DVDs from Universal.

As far as the Resurrection itself is concerned, I’ve always felt it one of Abbado’s weaker efforts, on both CD and video, and I have some misgivings about the Boulez DVD as well. The Bernstein – recorded in Ely Cathedral in 1972 – is vintage Lenny, but the dizzying camerawork is a major distraction. Some viewers may also object to his jittery podium presence, but for sheer exaltation Bernstein is in a class of his own. Interpretatively, the video outshines his later, audio-only remake for DG, by which time creeping self-indulgence overwhelms all insight. By contrast, Riccardo Chailly’s Decca CD set is much more sensible which, for me at least, all too often means dull. Will this live performance from Leipzig be any different, I wonder?

First impressions are very favourable; from the conductor’s slashing downbeat to the final, dying note of the first movement one is cosseted by playing – and sonics – of rare elegance and beauty. Chailly adopts sensible speeds and tempo relationships are nicely judged; the almost holographic sound – in stereo at least – really brings out the sting of cymbals and bray of brass. As for the woodwinds, they’re immaculate, timps crisp and powerful, the harps finely etched. And all the while there’s a pleasing sense of progress, the music artfully shaped without seeming self-consciously so. The camerawork is discreet and intuitive, visuals the epitome of clarity and naturalness.

A cracking start, then, and the most sense-sating Mahler video I’ve yet encountered. Textures are rendered with great subtlety, and despite the relative intimacy of the angular auditorium there’s plenty of room for the music to grow and blossom, everything from ppp to sfz easily accommodated. And listen out for those dark, barely audible tam-tam strokes, just some of the many ear-caressing moments that permeate this performance. True, there’s no risk-taking here, but there are no mannered, self-regarding gestures either. Chailly is admirably ‘straight’, old fashioned even, and yet his reading is full of unexpected charm and character.

Nowhere is this better illustrated than in the beautifully calibrated Andante; dance rhythms are deftly done, Mahler’s gentle pizzicati miracles of finesse and feeling. This really is a most distinguished orchestra, the chromium-plated delivery of the Lucerners – impressive as it is – no match for the rich, woody patina that comes with age and tradition. And lest one think this band is too cultured for its own good the Scherzo is full of animation and, in a moment of pure theatre, that final beat of the gong is allowed to resonate for what seems like ages.

Mezzo Sarah Connolly’s ‘Urlicht’, infinitely varied, is an absolute joy, the warmth and ease of her singing a perfect fit in this most cultured company. As for Chailly, his restraint is most welcome here, every last nuance and change of metre well caught; as a result of this reticence, the orchestral detonations of the last half-hour or so are all the more seismic. At times it seems as if the music is coming from the very bowels of the earth – apt, given the impending arrival of the Last Trump and the pit-like design of the auditorium – the soft-grained chorus rising above the tumult.

Chailly may not have the galvanising energy of his rivals at this point, but his broad, unhurried pace engenders a thrill of its own. Soprano Christiane Oelze’s steely, but steady, tones are a decent foil to Connolly’s more rounded ones, and I’ve rarely heard the choirs’ ‘Bereite dich’ delivered with such hope and trepidation. Once or twice, the playing is a tad untidy, but that’s forgivable under the circumstances. Chailly’s habit of holding back really pays dividends in the closing pages where, as Donne would have it, the all-embracing sound seems to emanate from the ‘round earth’s imagin’d corners’. The brass scythes through the mix – as it should do – and the organ adds plenty of heft; as for the bells and tam-tams, they’re just sensational, every strand of the score delivered with clarity and punch.

Dull this ‘Resurrection’ most certainly isn’t, and I came away from it with renewed admiration for maestro Chailly. There’s so much to cherish in this performance, from the burnished playing and deeply felt singing to the fine picture and unrivalled sound. Indeed, if I were awarding stars for sonics this would easily be a five out of five; it’s every bit as immersive as the Decca Blu-ray of Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet, which I reviewed last year. Purely as a performance – and I’m thinking of recent CDs as well – Chailly’s is a thoroughly satisfying alternative to those visceral, more urgent accounts from Jonathan Nott, James Levine and Simone Young; but if we’re talking DVD or Blu-ray, this newcomer sweeps the board.

-- Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International

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Recorded live at Gewandhaus zu Leipzig, 17 and 18 May 2011.

Picture format: 1080i Full-HD
Sound format: PCM Stereo / DTS-HD Master Audio
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, German, French
Running time: 95 mins
No. of Discs: 1 (BD 25)

You know how well the Mahler 5th moved for you last month; well now we have the next installment in this marvelous series. Both Mahler recordings have gotten great reviews in the English press. This CD should sell very well, especially among collectors, although on all levels this is a superb performance that should find its way into any Mahler collection. The next volume will feature Clifford Curzon playing Mozart and Beethoven concertos.

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

Also available as a hybrid Super Audio CD



MAHLER Symphony No. 1, “Titan” • Bernard Haitink, cond; Chicago SO • CSO RESOUND 901 902 (CD: 57:39) Live: Chicago 5/1–3/2008


This is the third installment in a series of Mahler symphony recordings under the direction of the Chicago Symphony’s principal conductor; it may be too much to hope that they will eventually comprise a complete set, but for the time being we can savor each new release. Haitink recorded this work most recently in 1994 in Berlin (for video), and there have been several changes in his interpretation since then (he’s shaved five minutes from the total timing of the earlier recording for a start); what hasn’t changed is the attention to detail and consummate musicianship on display.


It would be overly simplistic to suggest that the first movement is “expansive”; Haitink’s is a slowly evolving interpretation. The exposition isn’t the impetuous one of Zander (Haitink observes the exposition repeat) or (more egregiously) Gergiev, nor is it tentative; rather, it is one of increasing confidence and power. In the development, the horn fanfare is portentous rather than declarative; the end of this section is one of anticipation, which is heightened by the very gradual buildup to the eruption for full orchestra, which is anything but subdued. One is aware more than usual that the whole movement has been leading up to this moment.


The second movement was marked (in the Hamburg autograph of 1893) both scherzo and langsames Waltzertempo (“slow waltz tempo”), and Haitink has both markings in mind for this performance—its tempo is measured and just a bit clumsy, evoking “the village pub” (in the words of one contemporary critic), while the Trio is a more refined dance. Listeners expecting the music of “Under full sail,” with its connotations of vigor and pace, may be disappointed, but I think this is a perfectly valid alternative.


The third movement opens with a shock of sorts: missing is the sour bass solo, and in its place is the entire bass section, producing a less grotesque funeral procession (according to Michael Steinberg, as late as 1893 Mahler had this passage played by the basses plus the cellos). The pall of gloom hangs over the entire movement, unleavened even by the band and klezmer-style music; the overall effect is of muted formality. Haitink plays down the parody and injects a genuine feeling of melancholy, especially in the lovely “Wayfarer” quotation.


The Chicago percussion do themselves proud in the opening of the finale, producing an effective accompaniment for the superb brass “scream.” I usually find this effect to be either overblown or underwhelming, but here it is perfectly gauged, analogous to the onset of the storm in the Beethoven Sixth (and anticipating the finale of the Mahler Second). The later love theme is just as calming and welcome as the opening is jarring. Haitink produces a performance that captures Mahler’s quickly shifting moods with stylish grace and precision, capped by a coda that is splendidly triumphant. The sound production (in the hands once again of the estimable James Mallinson) projects a very effective sense of acoustic space (especially in the offstage fanfares of the first movement), with extremely transparent imaging and lows that ground the soundstage without becoming too prominent. In two-channel playback, the SACD (CSO Resound 901 904) adds presence and even more precise instrumental definition than the excellent stereo version; in short, this performance is custom-made for the kind of clarity one encounters here—in whatever version.


Haitink proves in recording after recording that he is at the pinnacle of current Mahler interpretation. In comparison to Gergiev’s recent First, with its wayward impetuosity—Gergiev 52: 39; Haitink 57:42—this is an interpretation that manages to sound even more convincingly fresh and innovative, doing full justice to Mahler’s audacious symphonic “Titan.”


FANFARE: Christopher Abbot Reviewing SuperAudio Version

MAHLER Symphony No 10 • Christopher White (pn) • DIVINE ART dda25079 (67: 04)


The performance on this CD is a transcription by musicologist Ronald Stevenson (first movement) and pianist Christopher White (movements 2 through 5) of the Deryck Cooke performing version of Mahler’s unfinished 10th Symphony. White’s purpose is explained in an essay in the CD booklet: “My intention was, partly, to tap into a tradition with which Mahler in his time would actually have been rather familiar.” This statement comes after a couple of disavowals: The transcription isn’t an attempt at “finding our way back to the original Mahler,” nor is it a desire for a “wider dissemination of an unknown work,” since CDs of the several realizations of the symphony are readily available.


There was, indeed, an established tradition of transcribing Mahler symphonies for piano, from Walter’s four-hand version of the First to Mahler’s own piano rolls, but White goes on to cite Mahler’s re-orchestrations of Beethoven, Schumann, and Weber. There is, however, an obvious distinction: Where Mahler was augmenting, White and Stevenson are reducing, as transcriptions for piano of orchestral works inevitably must. The pianist describes his attempts at “quasi-orchestral effects,” though one might ask why a transcription for piano of the 10th would be concerned with matters of orchestration, since it is precisely the lack of much of the orchestration that, for many Mahlerians, disqualifies the symphony from inclusion in the canon. White explains that he considers his piece a “piano commentary on the performing draft” of Mahler’s symphony, and it was as such that I approached this recording.


The contrast in tempo between the opening Adagio and the Andante of the first theme is mostly absent here as the opening slows markedly before the principal theme arrives; this is effective, however, in establishing the bleakness of the opening in contrast to the warmth of that first theme. That I was less aware of the absent orchestra than I had anticipated is tribute both to the pianist and to Stevenson’s arrangement. The sudden dissonance worked well until the “cry” assigned in the orchestral version to the trumpet; this can’t be easily duplicated on the piano, and the busy trills that accompany the nine-note chord aren’t a good enough substitute.


White manages the constantly shifting rhythmic accents of the second movement with apparent ease; he also clarifies the tricky counterpoint. The warmly ingratiating Trios are lovely. White allows you to admire Mahler’s melodies without regard to the propriety of an orchestral version (though, of course, those of us familiar with any of the versions will probably supply our own much of the time). The “Purgatorio” movement may be the most appealing due to its delightfully satiric character, quite pronounced in this transcription—it could almost be Satie.


The dance element of the fourth movement is very much at the heart of White’s transcription; the performance possesses an elastic sense of rhythm and a palpably nostalgic grace. As the movement nears its conclusion, White becomes inventive as he strives to imitate the sound of Mahler’s muffled drum: He employs “a complicated trick involving the third pedal and my right forearm to generate extra resonance.” It’s an interesting effect, but not the sound we need; here, it’s a sharp thwack, more imitative of the hammer blows in the finale of the Sixth, when what we need is a deeper, even dampened, note. For those keeping score, White places the first drum beat at the end of the movement, and begins the fifth movement with the ascending figure in the bass before repeating the drum sound.


The unearthly beauty of the melody that Mahler indicated was to be played by a flute is no less affecting on the piano, another indication that Deryck Cooke was correct: This is, indeed, “pure Mahler, and vintage Mahler at that.” White captures the burlesque nature of the Allegro section that leads to the quote from the first-movement dissonance with both dexterity and sensitivity; as the music slows to near stasis, the lovely lyrical melody reasserts itself in playing of nobility and heartbreaking poise. This is a song without words, and the piano is just as convincing a medium as the orchestra to convey it.


It is not at all surprising to read in the notes that White’s master’s degree dissertation focused on the music of Mahler. His transcription is not merely evidence of a familiarity with the Mahlerian idiom; it is infused with a profound understanding of the importance of this work in the larger context of Mahler’s symphonic journey. Highly recommended.


FANFARE: Christopher Abbot

This selection is a DSD (Direct Stream Digital) recording.