Classical Music

Classical Music

MAHLER Symphony No. 4 • James Levine, cond; Judith Blegen (sop); Chicago SO • RCA 59413 (57:58)


Gustav Mahler’s symphonies can work with so many different approaches (unlike the symphonies of most composers) that to pick any one recording of any of the symphonies and call it a “classic” is inviting argument and trouble, yet this specific recording of this particular symphony certainly qualifies in my book. Made in 1976, it has withstood not only the challenges of virtually every recording that came after it but has superceded most of its predecessors.


It took me several decades to realize that James Levine took his inspiration for this performance from the very odd recording of this symphony by Willem Mengelberg and the Concertgebouw Orchestra. Mengelberg slows down certain passages, especially in the first movement, so much that the motor rhythm practically stops, and this has been heavily criticized over the years, but he also imbued the music with an almost demonic intensity that took it away from the placid overview of the symphony as “a child’s view of heaven” and placed it into another realm. Levine borrowed the intense aspects of Mengelberg’s vision, but played the symphony in tempos much closer to those prescribed by Mahler, with the result being this classic of the phonograph.


Judith Blegen, though a fine and very musical soprano, does not have the finest voice for this music (that honor goes to Kathleen Battle, in her CBS recording with Lorin Maazel), yet she is quite good, and the overall impact of this recording is such that all subsequent interpretations are compared to it. That, in itself, qualifies this recording as Hall of Fame material.


FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

Gustav Mahler’s Ninth Symphony shows the culmination of the composer’s career. The concert recorded in this landmark live performance was part of The Mahler Project, in which friends and conductors Daniel Barenboim and Pierre Boulez tackled all of Mahler’s symphonies with the Staatskapelle Berlin. A documentary from Christoph Engel accompanies the concert, in which a diverse selection of statements and conversations from both conductors is featured.

Also available on standard DVD

Barcelona’s Palau de la Música Catalana, world heritage site and one of the world’s most beautiful concert halls, hosted Gustavo Dudamel and the Münchner Philharmoniker with an unforgettable performance of Mahler’s Symphony No. 2 “The Resurrection.“ The composer emphasizes life and death in all its terrible and stunning splendor in this overwhelming opus: “There is nothing except the complete substance of my whole life”, he remarked on his all-embracing oeuvre. Gustavo Dudamel, who said it was “a privilege to conduct this work in this unique venue,“ and his ensemble were celebrated with more than then minutes of applause. American mezzo-soprano Tamara Mumford and Israeli soprano Chen Reiss as well as the seemingly weightless choirs of Orfeó Català and Cor de Cambra del Palau de la Música Catalana perform “a mark-shattering finale with goosebumps” (Münchner Merkur). “The dynamic range is enormous. But most fascinating are the moments of absolute silence, in which you can feel how the dramaturgy of the evening comes together: An audience holds its breath” (Süddeutsche Zeitung). “Really an event … a phantastic conjunction of stars … a memorable interpretation“. (El Periódico)

From Another World is more than an album title : it's an invitation to travel across centuries, continents, and emotions. At it's heart lies an encounter between two musical traditions: the elegance and architecture of European classical music and the expressive pulse of Argentine tango. Bridging these worlds is Guttman Tango Quintet, formed by musicians who draw naturally from both traditions under the direction of violinist Michael Guttman. In From Another World, tango is not nostalgia. It is evolution. Just as Astor Piazzolla once liberated tango from the dance hall into the concert hall, Guttman dialogues with the classics that shaped Western music. Each track on this album begins with a familiar theme (Beethoven, Mozart, Mahler, Dvorak, and others) and let's it wander into Buenos Aires. What emerges is neither parody nor pastiche, but a transformation. Recorded in January 2025 at the Queen Elisabeth Music Chapel, this debut album captures a moment of creative alchemy, an ensemble of classical virtuosos surrendering to the irresistible gravity of tango.

This album explores Gustav Mahler's early songs, tracing the emergence of his distinctive musical voice. Featuring works from his youthful Lieder alongside the complete Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen, the programme reveals the composer's evolving relationship between song and symphonic thought. Performed by an ensemble of distinguished vocal soloists with pianist Joseph Middleton, the recording highlights Mahler's sensitivity to poetry, emotional nuance, and dramatic storytelling. Rooted in folk-influenced texts, these songs reflect themes of nature, love, memory, and self-discovery, offering insight into the formative creative period that shaped Mahler's later orchestral masterpieces.

With this new recording of Gustav Mahler's Symphony No. 2, Resurrection, the Basel Symphony Orchestra, under the direction of Markus Poschner, presents a powerful artistic statement marking the beginning of a new era. Few works could have been more fitting for Poschner's debut as Chief Conductor in Basel in autumn 2025: Mahler's monumental Second Symphony unites existential depth with visionary sonic grandeur, demanding both emotional commitment and structural clarity. At the heart of Poschner's interpretation lies a deliberately streamlined, transparent, and finely balanced Mahler sound. Rather than overwhelming massiveness, he emphasizes precise articulation, subtle dynamic shading, and a clear projection of the orchestral lines. This approach brings out both the intricate layers of the score and the chamber-like moments that give Mahler's music it's distinctive tension. With this recording, Markus Poschner and the Basel Symphony Orchestra not only document a significant artistic beginning, but also set a strong example of a modern Mahler interpretation that unites emotional intensity with structural transparency.

Michael Tilson Thomas’s first version [of Symphony no 3] with the LSO on Sony boasted the best contralto of all in Janet Baker and a wonderful coupling of Baker singing the [Rückert-Lieder].

-- Tony Duggan, MusicWeb International

MAHLER: SYMPHONY NO 3, KINDERT

Although there is no lack of drama, this reading is refreshingly unmannered and free from overstatement.

The Third was among the first and most successful of Bernstein's Mahler recordings. Leonard Bernstein's reading is refreshingly unmannered and free from overstatement. There is no lack of drama or tension in the long first movement: the inner movements are done with great charm and the second in particular is quite winning. Matha Lipton is occasionally a shade under the note in the fourth movement, "0 Mensch, 0 Mensch!" but her voice has excellent quality and she sings with great feeling. The singing of the boys' choir in the fifth movement is fresh and vigorous and only an occasional note of over-sweetness, not wholly unavoidable in this music, is found in the finale. Apart from one or two minor points of balance that are of small account, the recording is well engineered. The acoustic is warm and open, detail emerges clearly and the perspective is for the most part truthful. The surfaces are smooth. Strongly recommended.

-- Gramophone [6/1974, reviewing an LP reissue of the Mahler 3]

Reiner's claims as a Mahler interpreter are rarely appreciated as they should be. His account of the Fourth Symphony— strikingly different from the conventional view in some ways—has always struck me as among the most convincing, and here he directs a superbly clean-edged account of what is for the interpreter the most problematic of Mahler's works.

Like Walter and Klemperer, Reiner was a Mahler pupil and disciple. Thanks to the violent contrasts between Walter and Klemperer we have now readily accepted that there is no one true way with Mahler, and Reiner provides a third 'authentic' way, equally distinct. Those used to the more affectionate treatment of Walter, or for that matter Bernstein, will initially find Reiner's straighter style disconcerting. Deliberately the tone of voice is cooler, but that brings many benefits. One could argue that the Chinese poems of their nature demand a certain detachment. What is more Reiner's comparative coolness allows him to observe Mahler's markings much more meticulously than Walter. The obvious and most striking example comes at the climactic point of the final "Abschied", where Mahler, knowing the fondness of performers to reserve a fruity fortissimo for the big tune at the end, puts "ppp!" (the exclamation mark is Mahler's) over the great passage "Die liebe Erde". Walter and Ferrier ignore it completely and carry one, heart-throbbing, eyes-welling, to the end—a marvellous moment in recording history. But Reiner with exquisite tenderness, persuades Maureen Forrester to attack her high Fs and Gs with a genuine half-tone. The whispered murmurs of "Ewig" at the end have no premonition of death about them as they have with Ferrier: the end brings instead the feeling of sinking back on the eternal feather-bed of ecstasy, and that, I assume, is closer to what the Chinese poet and Mahler intended.

Though precision is his keynote, and phrasing is never mannered, Reiner does secure very beautiful pointing from his Chicago players, whether in the yearning phrases of the slow songs or the chattering opening of "Von der Jugend" which is more beautifully 'sprung' than I ever remember before. In the fifth song, "Der Trunkene im Frithling", too, the sharp brightness of the opening gives way to the drowsiness of "Ein Vogel singt im Baum" with superb control of mood—matched by very understanding singing from Richard Lewis; a lovely moment achieved here more effectively even than in the Walter.

My direct comparisons tended to a surprising degree to favour the new Reiner against the Walter, but returning to a complete performance of the Reiner I saw more clearly what reservations will almost certainly strike Mahlerians. However free Walter is with some of the markings, his performance gets inside the music, wrings one's emotions, makes one feel the performance, recorded or not, as a great occasion. I shall not say that Reiner's is not a great performance, but in the last resort one remains detached to a degree that I do not experience with any of the other three versions in their different ways—Klemperer and Bernstein as well as Walter. As I say, there is a clear argument for suggesting that that is apt for the work. At one point I felt tempted to place this version, with its remarkably good stereo and bargain price, ahead of all three of its rivals, but the chances of disappointment are too high. The sound is a little harder than in the very latest recordings from Chicago, but unless the last degree of high fidelity is essential, it will be very acceptable—better than some recent issues. The clarity of texture and vividness of atmosphere are most impressive, and both the voices are very well caught. Maureen Forrester has rarely if ever sung more expressively on record, and though Richard Lewis's tone is not always as sweet as one would like, his musical precision and imagination are always most satisfying. Neither singer is immaculate in German, but one has rather less to put up with on that score than with, say, Ferrier, who for all her glorious projection of feeling was not always comfortable with the words. Another marvellous addition to the Reiner discography: I hope the RCA Victrola label will be providing still more.

-- Gramophone [10/1969]

Mahler’s cantata Das klagende Lied today constitutes a veritable rarity in concert programmes – in an age that without contradiction recognizes Mahler as one oft he most eminent milestones in the music history of the late 19th and early 20th century. Based on a horror tale written by Mahler himself, this large-scale, vocal symphonic work forms the beginning of Mahler’s more familiar oeuvre. Mahler, at the age of only 20, submitted the score for the Beethoven Prize at the Society of the Friends of Music in Vienna. He did not receive this prize, however, and subsequently made several revisions. It was finally premiered by the composer in Vienna on 17 February 1901 only. The ‚mixed version‘ (also employed for this recording) consisting of the original first movement and the revised version of the other two parts, became customary in the course of the great Mahler Renaissance in the 1960s. The presented live capture with the 2019 deceased Michael Gielen – like Mahler not only a conductor but also a composer – with the ORF Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra was taken in June 1990 in the Konzerthaus Vienna.

REVIEW:

This performance of Mahler’s youthful horror story realizes every gruesome detail with positively sadistic relish. There are other fine versions in the catalog, but this live version is the most graphic, exciting, and true to Mahler’s youthful vision. Impactful live sound, great singing, great conducting—this is now the one to get.

– ClassicsToday.com

MAHLER Des Knaben Wunderhorn • Markus Stenz, cond; Christiane Oelze (sop); Michael Volle (bar); Cologne Gürzenich O • OEHMS OC 657 (SACD: 61:28 & no trans)


This recording of the Wunderhorn songs was made simultaneously with that of Symphony No. 4 (reviewed last issue), which not coincidentally features Christiane Oelze as soloist. The song that constitutes the symphony’s finale, “Das himmlische Leben,” is also included in this program, placed last and, appropriately enough, after its earthly predecessor, “Das irdische Leben.” The two performances are so similar that one would assume them to be the same, but there are subtle differences in timing and execution that prove them to be different. It is evidence of the care invested in this project that this extra effort was expended; Stenz’s symphony cycle is thus both extended and enriched.


As in the classic set on EMI featuring Schwartzkopf and Fischer-Dieskau, several of the songs here are presented as duets, a practice condemned by Donald Mitchell: “Mahler, I am sure, did not have this possibility in mind. He would have expected a capable singer to have been able to characterize each role sufficiently, without recourse to a partner.” ( The Wunderhorn Years, p. 260 n. 34). Be that as it may, the device can be justified from a dramatic standpoint, and I find the added variety refreshing. The pairing is only applied to three songs—“Trost im Unglück,” “Lied des Verfolgten im Turm,” and “Verlor’ne Müh”—and each one consists of pure dialogue (the last stanza of “Trost im Unglück” is written for both protagonists) so it hardly seems far-fetched to characterize the songs through the use of two voices. The voices of these particular singers, youthful and unaffected, produce versions of the songs that should please all but the Mitchellian purist.


Volle and Stenz give “Des Antonius von Padua Fischpredigt” a somewhat slow and dark reading, which adds just the right touch of irony to this familiar piece. The two later songs, “Revelge” and “Der Tamboursg’sell,” find Volle in martial mode, his delivery falling somewhere between the declamatory and lyric, but always dramatically true. “Wo die schönen Trompeten blasen,” sung by Oelze alone, is quite moving, her pure tone adding the appropriate touch of pathos.


Oelze offers a moving “Urlicht,” for which she manages the darker mezzo timbre very convincingly (she recorded the soprano part of the “Resurrection” Symphony with Fabio Luisi, reviewed in Fanfare 31: 5). The song is given a very close audio perspective—this is almost an intimate setting, highlighting the simple sincerity of the words and setting it apart from the lighter vein or martial theme of the preceding songs. Another notable vocal achievement occurs with “Das irdische Leben,” which is sung by Volle—if not actually unique, certainly exceptionally rare. One might have expected Oelze to take this song, thus providing the finale of a mini-drama with “Das himmlische Leben.” Volle also begins the program with a charming “Rheinlegendchen,” another song more characteristically taken by the soprano when the vocal duties are shared by two singers.


Two classics, the EMI previously alluded to and the more recent DG set featuring Thomas Quasthoff and Anne Sofie von Otter, accompanied by Abbado and the Berlin Philharmonic, provide stiff competition for any newcomer. I have no qualms about placing this new set in such august company. Stenz and his Cologne orchestra produce accompaniment of subtlety, humor, and power by turns, never content to simply play along. The sound production is spacious, detailed, and grounded with solid lows. I recommend this inspired set to Mahlerites and Lieder-lovers without reservation. (There is one minor blemish: The songs come with no translations.)


FANFARE: Christopher Abbot

October 2011 marked the 100th anniversary of the Hamburg premiere of Mahler’s Second Symphony. This release features music recorded from the previous year with the Hamburg Philharmonic under the direction of Simone Young. Michaela Kaune and Dagmar Pecková appear as the soloists, performing with the NDR Choir and the Latvia State Choir in an impressive interpretation of Mahler’s Second.

REVIEWS:

Hugely impressive, a must for all Mahlerians...the heroine of the hour is Simone Young.

Mahler’s Resurrection has been much recorded in recent years, so much so that new versions prompt one to groan inwardly and mutter: ‘Not another one’. Such ubiquity has its price, for any newcomer has to be something out of the ordinary if it’s to have any impact. Of recent releases David Zinman (Sony-BMG), Jonathan Nott (Tudor) and James Levine (Orfeo) definitely belong in this category; Vladimir Jurowski (LPO) and Markus Stenz (Oehms) manifestly don’t. And now Oehms are taking another bite out of the cherry, with the Hamburg orchestra led by their chief conductor Simone Young.

But does this strategy pay off? First impressions are highly favorable; Young adopts sensible speeds and a generally spacious approach that really lets the music breathe. As for the orchestra, they play like a group of chamber musicians, each miraculous contribution dovetailing neatly with the next. Textures have a shot-silk quality that’s especially attractive, putting Oehms’ Super Audio efforts for Stenz to shame. And climaxes are superbly judged as well, expanding without any sense of strain; as for the soundstage, it’s as broad as it is deep, perspective natural and timbres vividly registered.

This lightness of touch – not to be confused with lightweight – is such a relief after the heavy-handedness of some rivals, especially in the affectionate phrasing of the Andante. Young doesn’t dawdle, the music as fleet-footed as one could wish for, the silken strings lifting Mahler’s lovely tunes and really making them sing. There’s little of the tugging and misjudged tempo relationships that mar so many readings of this symphony; that tends to underline this conductor’s unwavering sense of clarity and purpose, qualities that I yearn for – but don’t always find – in this glorious work.

This tautness of conception and ensemble continues in the Scherzo...As for the woodwinds, they’re alert and idiomatic, the lower brass growling with the best of them. But it’s the liquidity of rhythm that’s most telling here. Young presses on without ever seeming rushed or perfunctory. Indeed, that’s another aspect of this performance that demands a mention; none of Mahler’s quirkier passages is ignored or sidelined. The music is in a constant – and intoxicating – state of efflorescence. This really is Mahler playing of the highest order, magnificently recorded

Young builds and maintains tension throughout. The sudden eruptions are entirely expected and, more important, suitably scaled. Just sample the outburst at 8:04; it’s massive without being ponderous or overdriven. Moreover, it’s not as histrionic as some, which fits in well with Young’s clear-eyed view of this score. I know Klaus Tennstedt’s recently released live Resurrection has its devotees, but its extreme soul-baring strikes me as self-serving and, ultimately, self-defeating. While the LPO play this music as if to the manner born, the Hamburg playing is more sharply characterized. They’re precise but not at all pedantic, every nuance and instrumental strand is uncovered in the most easeful way.

...the cataclysm that follows is truly thunderous, Young dimming the lights as it were, so that when the Resurrection motif appears it glows beautifully in the inky darkness. It’s an effective piece of theatre that works this time round. Although the passages that follow aren’t as broad as they can be, they’re alive with incident and chockful of detail. This really is a most impressive recording, every bit as immersive as Nott’s Super Audio disc. Indeed, the crack of timps here is just as arresting as it is on the high-tech Tudor one; oh, and I’d love to know what tam-tams the Hamburg band use, as they pack a mighty shimmer.

Young presses on, but there’s so much in which to revel – helped by the fact that the orchestra keeps its composure throughout – that one isn’t aware of just how swift she is from this point on. It’s incredibly exciting, the offstage contributions rather distant but just audible above the hike in ambient noise.

Again one can only marvel at the subtle instrumental and vocal shading the engineers extract from this acoustic. It’s a pity the soloists aren’t ideally secure, but what a heart-racing sense of anticipation Young conjures here - what trembling inexorability, that throwaway harp figure like the rending of a veil. Although the organ isn’t very prominent the tam-tams are simply stunning, the closing pages as death-defiant as ever.

What a glorious coda to this double centenary, with its hits and misses, and what a triumph for Oehms[.] But the heroine of the hour is Simone Young who, while no stranger to these symphonies, here confirms her Mahlerian credentials in a most emphatic fashion. Despite one or two minor caveats, this Resurrection belongs in the select company of recent issues from Zinman, Nott and Levine, all of whom bring something memorable to this oft-played score. Hugely impressive, a must for all Mahlerians.

-- Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International

Mahler: Symphony No. 5

This recording features the rare version of this score with baritone replacing the mezzo-soprano. Sony Music have released this CD to mark the company’s centenary.

Review:

"Nagano brings to the listener the full depth and breadth to this lapidary score in which the realism of nature and the outdoors speaks with forceful impact from the concert platform."

The story goes that Mahler did not dare to call Das Lied von der Erde a symphony, for fear that being his Ninth it would also be his last as it was also for Beethoven and Bruckner. Even so, he entitled it: “Symphony for tenor, contralto (or baritone) and orchestra” but did not call it “Symphony No. 9”. It is this seemingly hybrid form that makes Das Lied the epitome of Mahler’s two poles: song and symphony. The hybrid form drew from him some of his most masterful music as it did with Richard Strauss some forty years later in Vier letzte Lieder.

What are those qualities, those ‘basic elements’ of Mahler’s sound-world that captivate people today? It’s an intriguing question. After all these elements are the driving force behind the continuing popularity of the music in concert-halls and on record and the vital spark that gives life and momentum to “Mahler Societies” worldwide: Chicago, Hong Kong, London, Malaysia, New York, Toronto and Vienna. Those elements involve an ingenious combination of early twentieth-century polyphony, late-Romantic pentatonic monumentalism and his ability to recapitulate the “yin and yang” of life. His music has the potential to amaze even a century later.

Das Lied reflects the composer’s perception of time, of life and nature, and demonstrates a peculiar affinity with the arabesques of Orientalism. Contemporaries like Debussy, Ravel, Puccini and Stravinsky were equally seduced by the East. However Mahler made music speak in a language never spoken before - a link to the extremes of humanity, the passage of time, and the wonder of nature woven into the notated score. Mahler redefined music as had Bach, Beethoven and Berlioz centuries before him.

With the aid of sound engineers Jeremy Tusz and Carl Talbot Nagano brings to the listener the full depth and breadth to this lapidary score in which the realism of nature and the outdoors speaks with forceful impact from the concert platform. The first song “The Drinking Song of Earth’s Sorrow” (sung by the tenor) ranges from exhilaration to terror. It includes a remarkable passage accentuated by the OSM evoking an animal howling in the moonlight over the grave. It anticipates Schoenberg’s expressionist art. The second song “The Lonely one in Autumn” (sung by baritone) is in D minor, a key laden with autumn tints supported by the veiled, damped sonorities of the violin ostinato and a lyrical solo oboe line by Theodore Baskin. Nagano's flexible tempi allow the performers full expression of their solo entries. His understanding of the philosophical tone of the original Chinese poems has, I am sure, contributed to the musical drama. Listen to his way with the extremes of existential anguish in the three songs “Of Beauty”, “The Drunkard in Spring”, and “The Farewell” (sung by tenor, baritone, tenor). Nagano’s understanding of Mahler’s music is like fitting hands into a pair of perfect gloves.

Surprisingly, what is marvelous throughout this recording is not the grandeur or boldness of the sound, but Nagano’s keen perception of softness. Through quietude and suggestion Mahler makes his greatest impact. For example, the poetic depiction of an autumn landscape in transition toward winter becomes a metaphor for the passing of life. The music becomes a stimulus to trigger memories of the beauty of the earth and of nature, enhancing ones memories of the coniferous and deciduous forests and the serene sounds of meandering river creeks. “The Farewell” (sung by baritone), lasting 29:07, impresses just as vividly as all that has preceded it. This encloses a great funeral march, and when the soloist engages in the words of the final verse, the orchestra intensifies the emotional scale of the text: “everywhere the lovely earth blossoms forth in spring and grows green anew … for ever.” Death is a fact, and this is what Das Lied is about. For this reason, the work has been called "one of Mahler’s surest claims to immortality as a composer.”

Second, the success of this recording owes much to the soloists – tenor Klaus Florian Vogt and baritone Christian Gerhaher. Gerhaher is well suited to the exotic East and his versatile voice is apt to the heart-felt arabesques of the melodic line. But the especial miracle of this performance comes with Vogt's intelligent and relaxed account of the daunting tenor songs. This score has left many a tenor red in the face and struggling to be heard over the welter of orchestral sound. Vogt projects well with a fine and even somewhat baritonal quality. He scales the heights of the text with ease and never seems to strain. His range of expression adroitly conveys the depiction of young people on green and white porcelain and the extrovert vehemence of the springtime drunkard. Yet he also accommodates witty irony amid lightly inflected rhythms. If his voice is well stewarded and not overtaxed Vogt could be one of the great heldentenors of his generation. The attractions of these two singers complement Nagano’s incisive way with the score.

Nagano is one of the few conductors to record this work in one of its rarer versions with a baritone as partner to the tenor in place of the more usual contralto - often sung by a mezzo. He follows in the footsteps of Leonard Bernstein’s infamous 1966 legendary recording with James King and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau (reviewed here) and Bernard Haitink’s 1985 Mahlerfest recording with Ben Heppner and Thomas Hampson. More recently we have had Kenneth Slowik’s unique 2003 interpretation of the Schönberg-Riehm chamber transcription with John Elwes and Russel Braun and Michael Tilson Thomas’s revered 2007 recording with Stuart Skelton and Thomas Hampson (reviewed here). One minor downside is that listeners will have to get the text of these poems elsewhere although note-writer Dujka Smoje provides an excellent analysis of each poem in her notes.

This 2009 recording will surely be remembered for long, as one of the quintessential recordings that brought Mahler’s bleeding Weltschmerz to full expressive power.

One final thought and recommendation. Do try listening to your favorite recording of this work in a nearby forest. It really helps to distil the fundamental earthly elements Mahler hoped to convey. You’ll be surprised how satisfying this can be.

- Patrick P.L. Lam, MusicWeb Interantional

SYMPHONY 7 SACD

Artfulness disguised as simplicity – achingly beautiful.

‘Flicka’, as she is known among friends, has garnered the opera houses and concert halls around the world for four decades and her agenda is still well-filled. As a recording artist she has been prolific and appeared in opera, art-song, sacred music, operetta, Broadway musical and cross-over albums – always with glorious results. The present disc, recorded in 1978 and reissued by Arkiv with the original cover picture and Lionel Salter’s liner notes, was one of the few records with her I never bought on LP – God knows why! Now that I finally have it in my collection I feel satisfied. Mahler songs and Frederica von Stade’s voice have always seemed the ideal combination.

Her clean, slim voice is especially well suited to Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen. One of her specialities in opera was the trouser role: Cherubino and Octavian. The opening lines of Wenn mein Schatz are sung with innocent, boyish tone and in Ging heut’ Morgen she is wonderfully fresh and youthful, singing the final lines touchingly with ‘naked’ tone. She can also be strong and dramatic: Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer has all the necessary intensity with desperation almost visible. Then Die zwei blauen Augen is simplicity itself. I have heard few recordings of this cycle that sound so right – and this in spite of a woman singing what is, after all, a man’s words.

The two Wunderhorn songs are just as affecting. In Rheinlegendchen she adopts that boyish tone again and sings, so to speak, with wide open eyes – a spontaneous story-teller. Wer hat dies Liedlein erdacht?, famously recorded in the 1930s by Elisabeth Schumann, definitely has an open-air atmosphere. Schumann was a charmer, ‘Flicka’ with rounder tone is no less charming.

The five Rückert songs are, for me, indelibly connected with Janet Baker and her late 1960s recording with Barbirolli. Baker could, like no-one else, combine simplicity and deep emotions. But Frederica von Stade’s leaner voice is equally well suited to these songs. Her sophisticated artlessness – sounds like a contradiction but is exactly what I hear; artfulness disguised as simplicity – makes Liebst du um Schönheit so achingly beautiful. She applies the same light touch on Um Mitternacht, and this doesn’t exclude interpretative depth. She has the required power for the big emotional moments, most importantly the final pages of this great song.

The final song, Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen, has for forty years been one of the family’s great favourites – always in Janet Baker’s reading. Other recordings have popped up and we have admired them, listened closely and in the last analysis returned to Ms Baker. I still find it the deepest-probing but Frederica von Stade’s ethereal rendering of Ich bin gestorben dem Weltgetümmel (Rückert actually wrote Weltgewimmel) has also etched itself into my store of unforgettable musical moments. A wonderful end to a memorable recording.

The recording is first class and the LPO play like gods under Andrew Davis’s watchful direction. There are no song texts in the booklet, which is a pity, but they are easily available on the internet.

-- Göran Forsling, MusicWeb International [6/2011]

MAHLER Rheinlegendchen. Ich ging mit lust. Frühlingsmorgen. Wer hat dies Liedlein erdacht? Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen. Zu Strassburg auf der Schanz. Das irdische Leben. Nicht wiedersehen. Phantasie. Wo die schönen Trompeten blasen. 5 Rückert Lieder. Urlicht • Christian Gerhaher (bar); Gerold Huber (pn) • RCA RED SEAL 756773 (75:52 Text and Translation)


Christian Gerhaher’s generous Mahler recital offers samples of the early, unorchestrated Lieder und Gesänge aus der Jugendzeit (Early Songs and Ballads), several of the Des Knaben Wunderhorn songs, the early cycle Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen (Songs of a Wayfarer), and the later set of five Rückert songs.


The program begins with three lighter songs, intimately sung. Doubts about Gerhaher’s vocal substance are dispelled in the Songs of a Wayfarer, which he sings with a fuller tone and greater dynamic range. It’s a great performance of Mahler’s early masterpiece. Gerhaher sometimes sounds like the young Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, particularly in his upper register, and his Wayfarer approaches the level of Fischer- Dieskau’s magical performance from 1952 with Fürtwangler conducting. (I call it “magical” because it captures Fischer-Dieskau at his most unaffected and therefore most affecting). Gerhaher doesn’t have as rich a lower register as Fischer-Dieskau, nor is his singing, at this stage, marred by the self-consciousness that sometimes affected the older singer.


There’s an appealing modesty to Gerhaher’s approach that suits Mahler’s folk-like early songs particularly well. The voice suggests a sensitive youth singing with great sincerity, which seems at odds with the singer’s unshaven, morose-looking cover photo. (Is this an attempt at marketing Mahlerian angst? Why?) Gerhaher’s lack of mannerisms and lovely though not particularly distinctive sound do not mean that he doesn’t interpret the darker songs with real intensity of emotion—he does. The two big Rückert songs, “Um Mitternacht” and “Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen,” are given satisfying readings, and “Das irdische Leben,” a feverish drama with narrator and several characters like Schubert’s “Erlking,” is strongly characterized.


There’s a treasurable version of the Rückert songs that Fischer-Dieskau recorded with Leonard Bernstein as pianist, a deeper, more italicized approach than Gerhaher’s—it seems to be currently unavailable—and there is also a wonderful concert performance by Lorraine Hunt Lieberson with Roger Vignoles, but I’m sure that I will return to Gerhaher’s performance for his natural manner of singing and for the outstanding contribution of the pianist, Gerold Huber.


I usually prefer to hear the songs that Mahler orchestrated played by an orchestra, but Huber’s piano playing has the rhythmic control of the greatest conductors. Every sound and balance is judged meticulously and his huge range of articulation and color sets a new standard in the playing of Mahler’s orchestral parts on the piano. Other than in the Rückert songs with their very delicate, specific instrumental timbres, I don’t miss the orchestra. The disc is well recorded and highly recommended.


FANFARE: Paul Orgel

The most recent release from the Chicago Symphony Orchestra Resound label is an impressive recording of Mahler’s Second Symphony. Based on performances given in late November 2008, this recording preserves the memorable readings CSO principal conductor Bernard Haitink gave this work last year. While comparisons can be awkward, the previous point of reference for CSO audiences was the series of performances by Michael Tilson Thomas in early 2006. At that time Tilson Thomas conducted the work dynamically, but some elements did not emerge readily as, for example, the portamento in the strings in the second movement. Haitink’s approach may be characterized as attentive to the details of the score, and his mastery of those various elements has resulted in an intensely moving interpretation.
 
While it is possible to distinguish the first three instrumental movements from the last two vocal ones, Haitink fused the five movements into a convincing whole in the concerts he gave in Fall 2008. It may be difficult, at times, to perceive such cohesiveness in a recording, since listeners can stop and start at various points. Nevertheless, the disc captures the style Haitink achieved in live concerts in a fine recording of Mahler’s Second Symphony.
 
In this recording, it is possible to hear the attention to detail which Haitink brought to those live performances. Such integrity allowed the score to play as intended by the composer, an intention implicit in the various revisions Mahler made after the premiere of the Second in 1894 - particularly the refinements he published in the 1906 edition of the score. From the start Haitink made the work resonate, with the tremolo with which the first movement opens as intense as a climactic moment in an opera. The opening tempo is engaging, and Haitink is able to propel the movement forward by drawing from the orchestra nicely etched articulations at cadences and other structurally important places, as indicated in the score. He broadens the tempo when necessary and, when marked in the score, allows various passages to push forward. The swells of sound Mahler orchestrated have a clear shape, as the sonorities build to fullness and decay naturally. While some of this ambience may be the result of the acoustics of the hall, the tight ensemble of the CSO must be acknowledged as the source of the solid and mature sound in this masterful performance. With the strings at the core, the orchestra offers equally strong sonorities from the woodwinds and brass. At the same time, the percussion deserves recognition for the effective use of the timpani, along with support from the non-tuned instruments. With its immediate and upfront sound in this recording, the softer passages are never lost in the mix; however the tutti passages at the end of the first section of the first movement, to cite one example, can be overwhelming. The passages which conclude the movement reveal an appropriate pacing, with the final gesture bringing the movement to a resounding conclusion.
 
While some labels issue Mahler’s Second Symphony on a single disc, CSO Resound offers it on two, with the one devoted to the first movement, the piece Mahler once entitled “Todtenfeier,” in the manner of a tone poem Mahler once intended for the piece. The remaining four movements are found on the second of the two CDs. This division also assists in adhering to the marking Mahler put in the score to allow some time before proceeding with the second movement. In the medium of a sound recording, this physical separation supports that kind of stage direction. Likewise, the placement of the second through fifth movements on the second disc helps to prevent any kind of artificial separation of the instrumental movements from the vocal ones.
 
In contrast to the dramatic effect Haitink brings out in the first movement, the second conveys a delicacy implicit in the score. This emerges not only in the softer, more restrained playing, but in the clean articulations of the accompanying figures. In a similar way, the woodwinds are not just soft, as marked in the score, but seem sotto voce in approach, with a reedy blend prominent in the second section of the movement. With the return of the first area, Haitink’s hesitant gestures helped to distort the expected melodic pattern before the variation proceeds. Even within the delicate shadings of the movement, full sounds of the central section never seemed to be a compromise. Rather, the plaintive effect fits into the sometimes elegiac character of the movement.
 
The Scherzo in Haitink’s hands is relatively brisk, and the tempos convey a sense of the instrumental idiom of the movement. While the music from Mahler’s Wunderhorn setting Des Antonius von Padua Fischpredigt (“St. Anthony of Padua’s Sermon to the Fish”) is recognizable, Haitink allows the other ideas in the movement to emerge easily from that vocal model. Those brisk tempos set up the middle section of the movement, where the brass fanfare introduces music by Mahler’s deceased colleague Hans Rott, specifically the opening of the Scherzo from the Rott’s Symphony in E. When the thematic content from both Rott’s Scherzo and Mahler’s Wunderhorn song combine near the end of the movement, Haitink sustains the tension of the orchestral outburst sufficiently to allow the remainder of the movement to dissipate naturally.
 
The quieter sounds and thinner textures at the end of the Scherzo fit nicely into the chamber-music-like sonorities at the beginning of Urlicht, the fourth movement. In this movement Christianne Stotijn uses her full mezzo sound to color the text from Des Knaben Wunderhorn. Her voice blends well with the middle-string sounds, yet is never obscured within the orchestral textures. The calm and paced song gives way, in turn, to the choral Finale, and in this movement Haitink delivers a compelling reading of Mahler’s cantata-like structure which centers on the famous “ Auferstehungs” Ode of Klopstock.
 
The contrasts found in the score are realized nicely in this recording, with the thunderous opening of the movement serving as a foil for the relatively quiet sounds from the off-stage brass which follow and, later, the development of the opening theme on solo instruments. Haitink restrains the horns in the first part of the movement, with the fanfares from that section quite rich in color, but never as prominent as they are later in the movement. Likewise, the low brass are wonderfully clear and resonant, without overbalancing the ensemble - not only in the reprise of the “O Roschen rot” idea from Urlicht, but also later, Mahler develops motifs around the interval of the tritone. Ultimately, the repose which accompanies the instrumental presentation of the Aufterstehungs-Motif from the third act of Wagner’s Siegfried (the passage in which the character Brünnhilde sings "Ewig war ich, ewig bin ich" -- "I was eternal, I am eternal") serves as a further foil for the various off-stage and solo instruments in the section before the a capella chorus enters.
 
At this point, it is difficult to recall a more satisfying interpretation of the choral entrance with the words “Aufersteh’n, ja aufersteh’n, wirst du, mein Staub” (“Arise, yes, arise, my dust”), with the vocal textures full and rich. Miah Persson’s soprano solo plays off the choral timbre with ease and assurance as her passages emerge clearly. When Persson interacts with Stotijn in the duet which follows, both women’s voices blend well in conveying not only the meaning of the text but also the emotional pitch of the music. This sets the tone for the choral sections which follow. The full sounds of the male voices are impressive for the textured sonorities they create. Haitink is good to allow the passage “Bereite dich” to resonate, and then to linger on the passages that follow. In such a way, the text and music build to a fitting and appropriate conclusion, which climaxes on the phrase “Sterben werd’ ich um zu leben” (“I perish in order to live”) before the reprise of the text “Aufersteh’n, ja aufersteh’n” (“Arise, yes arise”). Here the combined sounds of the chorus, soloists, and orchestra have free rein in bringing this monumental work to its conclusion, as Mahler creates a vocal tableau as the culmination of his Second Symphony.
 
The recording does justice to the performances on which it is based, and also points to the affinity between Haitink and the CSO when it comes to interpreting Mahler’s music. This recording is a worthy addition to the already fine set of recordings from these performers, which include the two symphonies which frame this one, the First and Third, as well as Haitink’s incisive recording of Mahler’s Sixth Symphony. Whether these will result in a cycle is less important than the fine interpretations each recording contributes to the legacy of recordings for these works. With this newly issued disc, Haitink and the CSO offer a powerful reading of this important score. It stands apart from others not only for the interpretation Haitink offers but also for the execution of the score by one of the finest orchestras in the world. Available both on CD on a two-disc set and also as a download, this recording bears careful listening for the detailed reading it brings to Mahler’s familiar score.
 

-- James L Zychowicz, MusicWeb International

MAHLER: SYMPHONIES NO 9 & 10 (

MAHLER: SYMPHONIES NO 6 & 7 M

Regina Resnik's recital disc reissued here was recorded in 1967 and 1968. It illuminates her consummate musicianship and dedication to her art. With conductor Richard Woitach at the piano, she creates track after track of immense beauty and interest. Resnik has always been a dramatic and thoughtful performer on the operatic stage; it is most refreshing to hear her sing small-scale works for voice and piano. Her command of language is particularly astute in the Russian selections of Tchaikovsky and Prokofiev, and in her Spanish set by Turina.
She also sings her heart out in five Mahler songs, four of which are from 'Des Knaben Wunderhorn.' The fifth, "Hans und Grete," has a text by Mahler himself which contains a humorous allusion to the famous fairytale duo. Resnik's handling of this material is both touching and colorful, further emphasizing her vast artistic ability. The inclusion of an excerpt from Menotti's 'The Medium' with Resnik singing one of Madame Flora's arias about the old, scheming, now-repentant woman is a nice programmatic end to the disc. Resnik is able to conjure both scorn and compassion from the listener--not an easy feat.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Mahler Karneus, Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra Kindertotenlieder

All Mahler scholars have agreed from the very start that Gustav Mahler embarked on an entirely new path with his Fifth Symphony. Even for his immediate contemporaries, such as the conductor Bruno Walter or the music critic Paul Bekker, the Fifth marked the beginning of a new creative phase, and Mahler himself was also keenly aware of this – which is why he was all the more upset by the fact that his work was not understood at its premiere in Cologne in October 1904 and, even later, met with a largely negative reception. In 1905, following an unsuccessful performance in Hamburg, the composer complained: "The Fifth is an accursed work. No-one understands it.” It was only after Mahler’s death in May 1911 that people slowly began to appreciate the piece. The Fifth ranks today as one of Mahler's most popular symphonies. This is due in part to Luchino Visconti's 1971 film adaptation of Thomas Mann's novella "Death in Venice", which used the symphony’s world-famous Adagietto to great effect: the movement enjoyed unanimous approval from the very start, and has now advanced to become Mahler's “greatest hit” and the most famous work in his entire oeuvre. In its structure, the symphony does not follow the classic four-movement form, but presents us with five movements in three sections. Conceptually, Mahler relies on methods he had already tried and tested in the work’s great predecessors, the Second and Third Symphonies. The centerpiece of the work is a lengthy scherzo full of grotesque humour, inspired by Jean Paul, while its resting-point is the Adagietto, which certainly bears many of the hallmarks of Mahler's slow movements. The harsher sound of this symphony ushered in a new creative phase for Mahler – one that he developed further in the Sixth. The maximum use he makes of the tonal means available already clearly anticipates the Ninth, in which he begins to abandon tonality altogether and encompass the transcendental aspect of the music. This Munich concert event of March 2016, now released as a CD by BR KLASSIK, is an outstanding interpretation of one of the most important compositions of the international symphonic repertoire of the early 20th century. „Gustav Mahler himself feared that the „chaos!“ In his Fifth Symphony would deeply unsettle his audiences. The work has long since become popular, and the Adagietto has even become Mahler’s "greatest hit."

Import Hybrid-SACD pressing.

Mahler, G.: Symphony No. 4