TÁR: Music from and Inspired by the Motion Picture (CD Review)

By Karl Nehring

Hildur Gudnadóttir:
For Petra; Mortar; TÁR; *Mahler:
(rehearsals for) Symphony No. 5; **Elgar: (recording session for
excerpts from) Cello Concerto in E minor, Op. 85; Johnny Burke and Jimmy
van Heusen: Here’s That Rainy Day; Bach: (lesson on) Prelude in C
Major; Elisa Vargas Fernandez: Cura Mente. Hildur Gudnadóttir;
London Contemporary Orchestra, Robert Ames, conductor; *Dresdner Philharmonie,
Cate Blanchett, conductor; Sophie Kauer, cello; London Symphony Orchestra,
Natalie Murray Beale, conductor; New Trombone Collective & Friends; Elisa
Vargas Fernandez. Deutsche Grammophon 486 3431

It's hard to know just where to start with this
review, for this is a not a release that is easy to characterize in any sort of
simple, straightforward way. It’s just not a simple, straightforward sort of
recording. First of all, it is not a soundtrack album. DG states on their
website, “The multi-faceted concept album features music from and inspired by
the movie, including a series of stunning new tracks by Gudnadóttir, as well as
extracts from major works by Elgar and Mahler. It complements the film by
presenting completed, real-life versions of the music on which we see the
fictional protagonist Lydia Tár working. One of the aims of the album is to
reveal something of the complex process that goes on behind orchestral
rehearsals and recordings.”

Perhaps it might be best to pause here for a
background sketch of the film for those who may be unfamiliar with it. The plot
revolves around the main character, Lydia Tár (played by Cate Blanchett), a conductor who has
risen to the very peak of her profession – music director of the Berlin
Philharmonic. However, all is not well in her rather messy – to put it politely
– personal life; naturally enough, her psychological equilibrium is also
increasingly under strain as the plot progresses. Of course, there is much more
to the film than that (no, I have not seen it), but you get the general idea. It
is not without controversy: Marin Alsop, probably the world’s foremost female
conductor, remarked of the film in an interview for the New York Times, “I
first read about it in late August and I was shocked that that was the first hearing
of it. So many superficial aspects of Tár seemed to align with my own personal life.
But once I saw it I was no longer concerned, I was offended: I was offended as
a woman, I was offended as a conductor, I was offended as a lesbian.”

Now,
back to the CD. Some classical music fans may find the cover photo vaguely
familiar. In fact, some may even have the reason for that feeling of
familiarity resting on a shelf somewhere in their CD collection. I no longer
own the Abbado CD myself, but hey, I knew I had seen that Tár image somewhere, and I knew it
was Abbado. As the liner notes, which were penned by the film’s
producer/writer/director, Todd Field, declare, “one look at the the album’s
cover art will be enough for you to understand that yes, in some parallel
universe Lydia Tár
was finally able to convince the good people at DG to create a cover adorned with
her aped image of Claudio Abbado.”

Musically,
the program combines, as it says on the cover, music from and “inspired by” the
film, seemingly more of the latter than the former. As Field summarizes it,
“the album includes Cate Blanchett conducting rehearsals for Mahler’s Fifth, Gudnadóttir’s making of the score
for the film, in addition to music she composed that was inspired by, but not
heard in the film, the New Trombone Collective recreating the storied 1967
recording of Here’s that Rainy Day played by the great Urbie Green, and
finally Sophie Kauer making her professional debut in rehearsal for the Elgar
Cello Concerto.”  Now,
you might wonder: Why such a mishmash? 
Field’s highlighted answer to that question is, “The tracks, like the
film, are meant to invite the listener to experience the messiness involved in
the making of music.”

Well, yes, it is a bit of a mess, this CD, but
there is some good music to be found in these tracks, too. Gudnadóttir’s contributions are
especially interesting. The young (b. 1982) Icelandic composer and cellist
contributes three fascinating pieces to start off the program. She sings the
melody of For Petra, the musical theme which forms the basis of a
composition by the fictional Lydia Tár.
The CD also contains a longer version of For Petra that Gudnadóttir has
composed for orchestra, which is presented on this recording framed by
introductory and concluding remarks by the composer to conductor Robert Ames
and the London Contemporary Orchestra at the recording session (apparently
intended to illustrate “the messiness involved in the making of music.”) She
also contributes a three-movement moving expressive chamber composition titled Tár.

Next
on the program are brief excerpts from Symphony No. 5 by Mahler, these
now taken from scenes in the film wherein Cate Blanchett as Lydia Tár is rehearsing the orchestra. We
get a bit of the opening funeral march, a bit of the scherzo, and of course – what
else? – some of the gorgeous Adagietto. We also get Cate Blanchett speaking,
imploring the orchestra to play with one voice. At the end of this session, she
asks the orchestra members what they would think of having the Elgar Cello
Concerto as a companion piece on the upcoming program (uh oh, she has an
ulterior motive – things are getting messy indeed!). We then hear some chunks
of the work itself, not as satisfying as hearing the whole work, but at least
enough to sit back, relax, and enjoy. In fact, Sophie Kauer and the LSO’s
12-minute performance of the Allegro movement is the longest uninterrupted stretch
of music on the entire CD. Following a bit more from Kauer’s Elgar audition
(which Field in his liner notes justifies by drawing an out-of-left-field
parallel with historical recordings in the same studio) we then get an even
more out-of-left-field musical selection, Here’s That Rainy Day, played
by a small jazz ensemble (truth be told, however, it’s actually quite pleasant)
before the program concludes with a song that in the was used in the film in a
scene that fictionally portrayed Lydia Tár making a field recording in the Amazon in
1990.

Just
as it was hard to know where to start this review, so it is to know just how to
end it. This is – by design, really – a release that is difficult to
categorize. It is not really a soundtrack, nor is it really a documentary about
how music is made. It does have some interesting new music by the young
Icelandic composer Hildur Gudnadóttir, so in the end I can perhaps be justified
in giving it a solid recommendation as a Hildur Gudnadóttir EP with some stuff
from the film Tár thrown in as a bonus. Alternatively, for fans
of the movie, I can recommend it as an interesting take on the film from its
director with some fascinating new music thrown in as a bonus.

Meanwhile, I’ve reserved the DVD of the film at
my local library. Although I will confess that I am not predisposed to like it,
I’m willing to give it a try. Will my wife and I be able make it all the way through?
We shall see…

.

Recent Releases No. 41 (CD Mini-reviews)

By
Karl Nehring

Lucie Horsch: Origins. Charlie Parker: Ornithology; Piazzolla: Libertango; Maxwell Davies: Farewell to Stromness; Traditional: Simple Gifts; Piazzolla: Fuga y Misterio; Bartók: Romanian Folk Dances; Debussy: Syrinx; Stravinsky: 3 Pieces for Solo Clarinet, No. 1; Chanson Russe; 3 Pieces for Solo Clarinet, No. 3; Piazzolla: Café 1930; Traditional: Pašona Kolo; IsangYun: The Actor with the Monkey; Bartók: 3 Hungarian Folksongs from the Csìk, Sz. 35a; Traditional: She Moved Through the Fair; Londonderry Air (Danny Boy); Horsch, Sissoko: Tilibo; Nyami; Heraclio Fernandez: El diablo suelto (The Devil on the Loose); Zequinha de Abreu and Charlie Parker: Tico Tico. Lucie Hirsch, recorders; Fuse (Julia Philippens & Emma van der Schalie, violins; Adriaan Breunis, viola; Mascha van Nieuwkerk, cello; Tobias Nijboer, double bass; Daniel van Dalen, percussion); Carel Kraayenhof, bandoneon; LUDWIG Orchestra; Dani Luca, cimbalom; Sean Shibe, guitar; Bao Sissoko, kora. DECCA 485 3192

The young Dutch recorder
player Lucie Horsch (b. 1999) started playing the instrument at the age of
five, appeared on national television at age nine, and made her first recording
in 2018 while still a teenager. The liner notes point out that “as a performer
of Baroque music, Horsch feels at home with the folk melodies adapted by its
composers to please their aristocratic masters.” Around the middle of the 19^th
century, there had been something of a Great Divide in art between so-called
“high” art” and “low” or “common” art, with folk music being cast into the
latter category – despite the fact that many “high art” composers drew much of
their inspiration from folk music. In any event, Horsch’s goal with this album
was to bridge the Great Divide by showcasing music where classical musicians
feel at ease with folk styles from various cultures and musical styles from
around the globe. With music ranging from Parker to Pizzzolla to Stravinsky, Bartok,
and Debussy, there really is quite an eclectic mix, but trust me, it is all
quite enjoyable to hear. If you have been looking for something out of the
mainstream but not “way out there,” this may be just what you were looking for
but didn’t know it.

Christopher Tin: The Lost Birds: An Extinction Elegy. Flocks a Mile Wide; The Saddest Nosie; Bird Raptures; A Hundred Thousand Birds; Wild Swans; Intermezzo; Thus in the Winter; There Will Come Soft Rain; All That Could Never Be Said; I Shall Not See the Shadows; In the End; Hope Is the Thing with Feathers. Voces8; Royal Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Christopher Tin and Barnaby Smith. DECCA B00836123-02


Having previously enjoyed a recording of a composition by the American composer Christopher Tin (b. 1976) titled “To Shiver the Sky” (reviewed here), I was excited to see that he had a new composition out featuring the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, this time with the vocals of Voces8, whose vocal stylings have been featured on numerous recordings reviewed previously on this site. The theme of the album brought to mind the composition Spectral Spirits by another American composer, Edie Hill (b. 1962), which was included on a recording by the Philadelphia-based choral group, The Crossing (reviewed here). The recording was largely funded by a Kickstarter campaign reported to have topped the record for the highest-funded classical music crowdfunding campaign ever. The lyrics (which are printed in the CD booklet) are adapted from poetry by Emily Dickinson, Christina Rossetti, Edna St. Vincent Millay, and Sara Teasdale.

Although there is plenty to like about this release, the music has a film score quality to it that may not prove palatable to all listeners, and the prominence of Voces8 in the mix can make some of the soprano parts sound overpowering at times. All in all, this is a pleasant, well-intentioned album that will not make serious demands of listeners, but on the other hand might leave some listeners wishing for more musical substance.

Mahler: Symphony No. 5. Czech Philharmonic conducted by Semyon Bychkov. Pentatone PTC 5187 021

Conductor Semyon Bychkov was born in St. Petersburg, Russia, in 1952 to Jewish parents. As a result of his family suffering from some official anti-Semitism, Bychkov fled to Vienna in 1974 and then emigrated to the United States in 1975, becoming an American citizen on July 4, 1983. He was music director of the Buffalo Philharmonic from 1985-89 and the Orchestre de Paris from 1989-98. Fast-forward to 2018, and Bychkov became music director of the Czech Philharmonic. Then early in 2022, he and the orchestra made their Pentatone recording debut with the release of Mahler’s Symphony No. 4, the first of what is projected to be a complete Mahler symphony cycle. That recording received generally favorable reviews, including from our own JJP, a review that can be found here.

 

Now we have the second release in the series, Symphony No. 5, and once again Bychkov and his Czech forces have produced an excellent recording. Although it does not quite have the sheer dramatic intensity of the Bernstein/Vienna Philharmonic version (as an aside, Bernstein was buried with a copy of the score of the Mahler 5th) on DG or the completely convincing combination of performance and engineering of the Haenchen/Netherlands Philharmonic version on Pentatone – a release from some time back, reviewed here. This is a very good recording; the problem is that there are just so many very good recordings of Mahler on the market today. Or maybe that’s not a problem – if you are a Mahler fan, this new recording would be a good one to add to your collection. The Czech Philharmonic, which did a previous Mahler cycle under the late Vaclav Neumann in the 1970s, is a natural fit for this music, and Bychkov certainly knows what he is doing. This will be a Mahler cycle to keep an eye – and ear – on.

Igor Levit: Tristan (CD review)

(CD1) Liszt: Liebestraum No. 3; Henze: Tristan; (CD2) Wagner: Tristan und Isolde Prelude (Piano arrangement by Zoltán Kocsis); Mahler: Symphony No. 10: Adagio (Piano arrangement by Ronald Stevenson); Liszt: Harmonies du Soir. Igor Levit, piano; Franz Welser-Möst, Gewandhausorchester Leipzig (in the Henze). Sony Classics 19439943482.

By Karl W. Nehring

Let me say at the outset that Tristan is an album of contrasts and extremes that is at the same time strangely unified. If that opening sentence makes me sound confused or perhaps even a touch insane, blame it on my having listened to this album over and over in a vain attempt to decide what sort of recommendation to give it. It’s a strange, wonderful album, offputting and endearing, but certainly not boring. You can certainly get a sense of what I mean by this from the heading over the liner notes, which shouts out in capital letters:

“SINGING, LAMENTING AND SCREAMING
IGOR LEVIT PLAYS SONGS OF LOVE AND DEATH”

Although the program itself opens with Liszt’s familiar and soothing Liebestraum No. 3, as the liner notes immediately make apparent, the centerpiece of the album is its title piece, Tristan, a six-movement, 50-minute work for piano, electronic tapes, and orchestra. Actually, the composition consists of six separate movements or ,as Henze calls them, preludes: I. Prologue, II. Lament, III Prelude and Variations, IV. Tristan’s Folly, V. Adagio - Burla 1 - Burla II - Ricercare I – Burla III – Ricercare II, VI. Epilogue. Although the presence of Levit on piano and Welser-Möst with the orchestra in the cover credits might lead one to assume that Tristan is a piano concerto, such is not really the case. The six pieces were composed separately and then assembled together – including not just then piano and orchestral parts, but also the tapes.

The liner notes explain that “Henze has left us a detailed description of the genesis of his Tristan, including much of its autobiographical background. He prepared three tapes with Peter Zinovieff, a well-known pioneer of electronic music in London whose inventions had a considerable influence on the pop music of those years, notably on Pink Floyd. Polyphonic music from the Renaissance, complex contrapuntal writing for a veritable battery of percussion instruments, Chopin’s funeral march and the aforementioned Prelude to Act Three of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde all found their way onto these tapes. Henze then added the virtuosic orchestral parts minutely timed to these tapes, which functioned as a fixed bass. To the still-incomplete first Prelude for solo piano he now added two further preludes, with the result that the work grew to a total of six sections, a hybrid of electronic music, a concerto, and an example of music theatre that defies all of our conventional ideas on the subject of genre.”

Yes, that sounds like quite a big mess, and there are times when it sounds like, yes, a mess. But there are also passages of delicacy and wonder. For the most part, Levit’s piano seems to float above the rest of the score, which at times includes quotations from other musical works – for example, the opening of Brahms’s Symphony No 1. pops up out of nowhere and then just as quickly disappears back into the void. Tristan is a strange piece – interesting to listen to a few times, perhaps – but not likely to be something that many music lovers will return to very often, if at all.

The second disc will likely have much more appeal to a much broader audience. After hearing Henze’s complex, multi-layered, and at times frenzied take on Wagner’s Tristan, to hear Levit play the Tristan Prelude in an arrangement for solo piano is like leaving the frenzy and frustrations of rush-hour traffic for an enjoyable drive down a scenic highway. Many music lovers have no doubt become familiar with this music not from attending a production of opera itself, watching a video production of it, or even from listening to a recording of the opera, but rather by listening to a recording of orchestral excerpts. To hear Wagner’s lush orchestration reduced down to keyboard scale offers an intimate gaze into the heart of the music, music that Levit brings to life with a blend of passion and precision.

Next up is the opening movement Adagio from Mahler’s Symphony No. 10 in an arrangement for piano by the late Scottish composer and pianist Ronald Stevenson, whose Passacaglia on DSCH  as recorded by Levit along with Shostakovich’s 24 Preludes and Fugues was reviewed previously here: https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2021/09/recent-releases-no-19-cd-reviews.html. Unfortunately, Mahler’s orchestration is just too powerful and dramatic to be portrayed by a piano; it just doesn’t quite satisfy. Wagner’s score worked for the piano, but Mahler’s – sorry, it’s no fault of Levit’s, but it just doesn’t work. Fortunately, Levit chooses to end the program with a work written expressly for the piano, the eleventh of Liszt’s Trancendental Etudes, titled Harmonies du Soir (“Evening Harmonies”). This is a gorgeous piece of music, full of rippling arpeggiated chords, reflective and calming, bringing the program to a peaceful, satisfying conclusion. The sound quality is excellent, as are the liner notes. Although I have reservations about the Henze, it is a piece the adventurous among our readers may want to give an audition. The Mahler, although unconvincing in itself, might certainly be of interest to Mahlerians looking for some more insight into the music. The Liszt and Wagner are beyond reproach. No, this is not a release for everyone, but for some, it will be quite a source of excitement. You know who you are.

KWN

Hans Rott: Symphony No. 1 (CD review)

Also, Mahler, Bruckner. Jakub Hrusa, Bamberg Symphony Orchestra. DG 486 2932.

By John J. Puccio

“Hans Rott wrote his First Symphony--filled with groundbreaking musical ideas and a unique vision for how the symphony could develop--at a time when his younger schoolmate Mahler was barely getting started and his mentor Bruckner was struggling through his middle period. Jakub Hrusa and the Bamberger Symphoniker present this masterpiece alongside words by Bruckner and Mahler, shining a new light on a work which deserves to sit at the centre of the symphonic repertoire.” --DG liner notes

Mahler described Rott as “a musician of genius...who died unrecognized and in want on the very threshold of his career.... What music has lost in him cannot be estimated. Such is the height to which his genius soars in...[his] Symphony, which he wrote as a 20-year-old youth and makes him...the Founder of the New Symphony as I see it. To be sure, what he wanted is not quite what he achieved.... But I know where he aims. Indeed, he is so near to my inmost self that he and I seem to me like two fruits from the same tree which the same soil has produced and the same air nourished. He could have meant infinitely much to me and perhaps the two of us would have well-nigh exhausted the content of new time which was breaking out for music.”

The question has always been: Did Rott’s one and only full symphony influence Gustav Mahler’s compositions to come, or did the young Mahler somehow influence Rott’s writing of his First Symphony? We’ll probably never know for sure, but Maestro Jakub Hrusa and his Bamberg Symphony players do their best to illuminate the comparisons among Rott, Mahler, and Bruckner.

Whatever, it’s a shame composer and organist Hans Rott ((1858-1884) completed only a handful of tunes before he died. It seems that after writing his Symphony in E in 1880 Rott tried pressing it on both Brahms and Bruckner, but they wouldn’t have it. Brahms even became annoyed with Rott's pushiness (and possibly with some of the symphony's content, which he felt mimicked his own work), telling him he had no talent whatsoever. As a result of these and other obstacles, Rott’s Symphony fell into obscurity (it was not performed publicly until 1989), and Rott himself became depressed, delusional, and hostile. The state locked him up in a mental institution while he was in his early twenties, and he died there a few years later.

The present disc opens with Rott’s Symphony No. 1 in E-major, which has always reminded me of Schumann in the opening, Wagner in some of bigger, grander passages, and Brahms in the Finale. There is also a goofy third-movement Scherzo, which does, indeed, sound a lot like Mahler, the similarities being much too obvious, it seems to me, to have been mere coincidence. I like Rott’s intriguing, atmospheric, and mostly pleasurable (if not entirely memorable) passages, but in the end, it sounds to me too much like a pastiche of ideas. Still, I do like that bizarre Scherzo and the overall Romanticism of the piece.

The symphony begins quietly, much like Mahler’s First, though with both a Wagnerian and Schumann-like flavor. Then, by the time the first movement gets moving, we hear a touch of Brahms. I have to admit that I have never heard the Rott Symphony played in a live performance, but by the measure of the several recordings I’ve heard of it, I have never been overly impressed. That said, Hrusa does a fine job making the opening sound more imposing than I’ve heard it before. Of course, whether that is good or bad is entirely in the ear of the beholder.

The slow second movement Adagio seems more appealing at its outset than it does in its development, which doesn’t appear to go anywhere. Not even Hrusa can salvage it, although his sensitive hand guides us through it with a gentle sweetness.

Thankfully, we are rescued by that eccentric Scherzo I’ve mentioned, a jolly affair that couldn’t help inspiring Mahler. Under Hrusa’s direction, it marches steadily forward, pauses briefly for a quiet middle interlude, then resumes with vigor in a series of anticlimaxes. Hrusa keeps it under control as best he can before barely reining it in at the end.

The symphony culminates in a lengthy grand finale, which begins as the symphony began--in muted solitude. Then it quickly builds up a head of steam, which Hrusa and his Bamberg forces play to the hilt, amplifying, reducing, broadening, inflaming, inflating, decreasing, and stretching almost interminably. Yet Hrusa is skillful enough never to let it become overly bombastic, just overly drawn-out.

Following the Rott Symphony, Hrusa gives us two more works, the Andante allegretto “Blumine” by Mahler and the Symphonic Prelude in C minor by Bruckner. Hrusa’s purpose, of course, is to show us similarities in the writing of all three composers, even if the comparisons cannot offer any definite proof of who might have influenced whom. I can say I liked both the Mahler and Bruckner pieces better than I liked the Rott, but that rather misses the point.

Producers Eckhard Glauche, Johnannes Gleim, and Sebastian Braun and engineer Markus Spatz, Christian Jaeger, and Thorsten Kuhn recorded the music in the Konzerthalle, Bamberg in 2021 and 2022. There’s a good sense of depth to the orchestra, noticeable from the very beginning, and enough hall resonance to provide a realistic ambience. A slightly greater distancing makes the sound a mite soft and cloudy, though, so expect a seat in an auditorium perhaps more than halfway back. It makes for big, sometimes massive sound that complements the big, massive sections of the Rott score but tends to leave the quieter passages too recessed.

JJP

Mahler: Symphony No. 5 (CD review)

David Bernard, Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Recursive Classics RC5956731.

By John J. Puccio

If you have been enjoying the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony for a while, or if you have been reading Classical Candor for any length of time, you probably know how good the Park Avenue ensemble sound. The orchestra includes mainly players who do other things for a living (like hedge-fund managers, philanthropists, CEO's, UN officials, and so on). They're not amateurs by any means, but they're not full-time musicians, either. Nor is the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony a particularly small group. It's about the size of most other full-sized symphony orchestras. Whatever, whether you’ve heard them or not, believe me, their playing will dispel any skepticism about the quality of their work; everyone involved with the orchestra deserves praise, especially their energetic leader, Maestro David Bernard.

So, why does the ensemble call itself a “chamber symphony”? After all, a chamber orchestra is traditionally a smaller group, originally designed to play in smaller rooms; whereas a symphony orchestra is a larger group, designed to play in concert halls or auditoriums. But while symphony orchestras produce bigger, more mellifluent, more grandiose sounds, chamber ensembles usually have the advantage of producing clearer, cleaner, more intimate sounds. I suspect the Park Avenue players chose their name because they combine the best aspects of both designations, chamber and symphony. At least, that’s they way they have always come across.

On the present recording, Bernard and his crew play the Symphony No. 5 by Austro-Bohemian composer and conductor Gustav Mahler (1860-1911). He wrote it in 1901-02, and it remains among his most multifaceted works, beginning in sorrow and solemnity and culminating in joy and happiness. The turning points are the third movement Scherzo, sounding much like Mahler's usual parodies of a traditional Viennese waltz, and the famous fourth-movement Adagietto, really a love letter to the composer's wife, Alma. These lead into a joyous fifth-movement Rondo-Finale, made more jubilant by the conducting of Maestro Bernard and the playing of the Park Avenue performers.

There is nothing flashy or earthshaking about Maestro Bernard’s performance, yet it seems perfectly suited to the occasion. In the first movement Bernard maintains a solid, forward-moving rhythm, the music gradually building into a heady climax. It’s a steadfast, firmly grounded interpretation that eschews histrionics in favor of an unwavering fidelity to Mahler’s intentions. The Park Avenue ensemble is equally up to the task of handling Mahler. The composer requested a large orchestra, listing most of the instruments he wanted; but he did not identify the number of strings assigned. Whatever, the Park Avenue players appear big enough in their numbers to produce a thrillingly full sound yet not so massive as to becloud the overall sonic picture.

For the second movement, Mahler indicated “Stormy. With utmost vehemence.” Maestro Bernard again adheres to the composer’s direction. Bernard is a particularly forceful and energetic conductor, so this movement suits him fine. This movement actually acts as a kind of extension of the first movement but with greater intensity and passion, a tone Bernard achieves admirably.

Next we come to the Scherzo, which after the turmoil and “vehemence” of the second movement may seem almost anticlimactic. Nevertheless, it provides a delightful interlude, if a typically peculiar one common to Mahler, as it playfully dances around various waltz and country dance motifs. Maestro Bernard seems to be having a good time with it. And then it’s on to the celebrated Adagietto. In fact, this section became so well known it is often performed by itself. The composer notes that the conductor should play it “very slow,” but Mahler himself was known to have played it fairly fast, at least compared to many of today’s conductors. Maestro Bernard takes a sort of compromise approach, slowly but not too slowly. It emerges perfectly, conveying Mahler’s obvious affection yet not dipping into sentimentality. It’s a sweet, compelling, and still highly emotional approach.

In the Finale, Mahler incorporates several themes touched upon in the previous movements, which help to unify the symphony into a satisfying whole. Here, Maestro Bernard lets the work’s effulgent joy shine radiantly through, concluding a thoroughly enjoyable reading.

Jennifer Nulsen did the audio engineering and mastering, along with engineers Isaiah Abolin, Thom Beemer, and Lawrence Manchester. They recorded the symphony at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music, NYC in May 2022. The opening trumpet notes set the stage for sound that has depth, dimension, and spaciousness. It’s clean, transparent sound that well captures the simulation of a live event, even though this one was done in a studio. A pleasantly deep, rumbling bass line adds to the illusion of realism. Both the audiophile and the casual listener should enjoy the sound.

JJP

Mahler: Symphony No. 4 (CD review)

Sabine Devielhe, soprano; Francois-Xavier Roth, Les Siecles. Harmonia Mundi HMM 905 905357.

By John J. Puccio

Les Siecles is a period-instrument ensemble, one we are more accustomed to hearing in works from the seventeenth, eighteenth, and maybe into the nineteenth centuries. But Mahler premiered his Symphony No. 4 in G major in 1901, which would seem well out of the range normally associated with “period” music and “period” performances. Here’s what conductor Francois-Xavier Roth said about his period recording of the Mahler First Symphony and which we can assume applies here: “Mahler already had in mind an ideal sound nourished by his collaborations with German orchestras and his studies in Vienna. We therefore decided to use the instruments with which he would have been familiar in the pit of the Vienna Court Opera and the Musikverein, and selected Viennese oboes, German flutes, clarinets and bassoons, German and Viennese horns and trumpets, and German trombones and tubas. These instruments are built quite differently from their French contemporaries! The fingerings, the bores and even the mouthpieces of the clarinets were completely new to our musicians. In the case of the string section, each instrument is set up with bare gut for the higher strings and spun gut for the lower ones. Gut strings give you a sound material totally different from metal strings, more highly developed harmonics, and incisiveness in the attack and articulation."

Of the current performance, when asked if a historically informed interpretation still means something when playing Mahler, Roth explains further: “Period instruments give us a lot of interpretative solutions. You can’t keep ladling on the fortissimi ad infinitum: the instruments have an organological limit that shows us how they should be played. They provide greater poetry. But more than the instruments themselves, which give us the envelope or the musical colour, the challenge of an informed interpretation is to understand where music comes from. In Mahler’s case, the question is all the more fascinating because he was a truly European musician and performer, a pure product of Mitteleuropa. He travelled a lot, he had absorbed Austrian, Hungarian, German influences. He was steeped in that music, which comes from Haydn and foreshadows Bartok; it runs in his veins. You have to respect that.”

Thus, we have a new reading of an old favorite, the Fourth being possibly the most-popular of all the Mahler symphonies (an irony, perhaps, considering that early audiences and critics pretty much hated it). Anyway, as you no doubt know, Mahler intended at least his first four symphonies as extensions of one another, one following  the other in a kind of symbolic progression. In the First Symphony the composer described, musically, Man’s suffering and triumph. In the Second he examined death and resurrection. In the Third he reflected upon his own existence and that of God. And one of his protégés, the conductor Bruno Walter, described the Fourth Symphony as “a joyous dream of happiness and of eternal life promises him, and us also, that we have been saved."

More specifically, the first movement, which Mahler marks as "gay, deliberate, and leisurely," begins playfully, with the jingling of sleigh bells and develops a complex pattern from seeming simplicity. The second movement introduces Death into the scene, with a vaguely sinister violin motif. The slow, third-movement Adagio, marked "peacefully," is a kind of reprieve from the dread of Mr. Death. Then, in the fourth and final movement, we get Mahler's vision of heaven and salvation as exemplified by the innocence of an old Bavarian folk song, a part of the German folk-poem collection Das Knaben Wunderhorn that Mahler much loved. Here, the composer wanted the song to sound so unaffected that he insisted upon the soprano's part being sung with "child-like bright expression, always without parody."

So, how does Maestro Roth and his period-instrument band handles all of this? Well, his interpretation doesn’t differ too much from the mainstream. His rubato, his slowing down and speeding up, appears more flexible than in most readings, but it adds a definite charm to the well-worn proceedings and spices things up nicely. In other words, you won’t confuse Roth with veteran Mahlerians like Herbert von Karajan, Bernard Haitink, Bruno Walter, George Szell, or Otto Klemperer. Nor will you confuse Les Siecles with the Berlin Philharmonic or the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra. Mahler’s Fourth calls for a slightly smaller ensemble than he had used in his previous three symphonies, and the sixty or so members of Les Siecles fill the job splendidly. What’s more, maybe because of the slightly smaller numbers and the period instruments, we get more transparency than we usually find in the orchestration.

The second movement under Roth is so eerie it can be downright unsettling. Mahler marks it “leisurely, without haste,” which is what Roth does, yet he infuses it with a bizarre, menacing tone that’s hard to ignore. It’s no wonder those early audiences had difficulty understanding what was going on. After that, Roth takes the Adagio in as tranquil, as serene a fashion as I’ve heard, and he does so without becoming tiresome or tedious. It’s really quite an endearing rendition.

Then we come to the finale, with its soprano voicing the innocence of youth and promise of the future. Here, the singer must be careful not to come off too coy, self-conscious, or artificial. The soloist is the noted French coloratura soprano Sabine Devieilhe, who provides the music with just the degree of straightforward, effortless spontaneity it needs. It concludes one of the best Mahler Fourth performances in quite a while. It’s different, never dull, and always engaging.

Producer and engineer Jiri Heger recorded the symphony at La Seine Musicale - RIFFX Studio NO. 1, Boulogne-Billancourt, France in November 2021. As with so many of Harmonia Mundi’s recordings, this one is beautifully full and luxuriant. Imaging is precise; depth is moderate; dynamics are more than adequate; detailing and clarity are good, without being harsh or bright; and imaging is precise. It’s realistic sound, never artificial, never too forward or too soft. It’s comfortable, lifelike sound.

JJP

MahlerFest XXXIV: Sawyers: Symphony No. 5; Mahler Symphony No. 5 (CD review)

Kenneth Woods, The Colorado MahlerFest Orchestra. Colorado MahlerFest.

By Karl W. Nehring

We have previously encountered American conductor Kenneth Woods in his role as conductor of the English Symphony Orchestra, where he has championed the works of contemporary composers, among them the English composer Philip Sawyers (b. 1951), several of whose previous compositions Maestro Woods has recorded with various U.K. orchestras. But Woods wears another hat as Artistic Director of the Colorado MahlerFest and conductor of their orchestra. Colorado MahlerFest is a nonprofit 501(c)(3) organization founded in 1988 that presents an annual, weeklong festival celebrating Mahler’s life and music as well as the works of composers who influenced Mahler and by composers whom Mahler in turn influenced. The Colorado MahlerFest Orchestra draws together young professionals, conservatory and university students, and advanced amateurs. In 2005, the International Gustav Mahler Society of Vienna awarded Colorado MahlerFest its rarely bestowed Mahler Gold Medal. MahlerFest was honored alongside the New York Philharmonic, joining such past recipients as the Vienna Philharmonic and Leonard Bernstein.

In the program notes for the Mahlerfest performance, which occurred in August, 2021, Woods writes of Mahler’s Fifth that “it charts a journey from darkness to light not unlike that of Beethoven’s Fifth, a work with which it often compared. But where Beethoven’s Fifth ends in the unambiguous triumph of hope over despair, Mahler’s Fifth is more equivocal and more ambivalent. As Mahler began the new century, he seemed to be saying that tragedy and adversity are forever part of the human condition, that there can never be such a thing as ‘happily ever after,’ but that when storms pass, we must embrace life, seize the moment, and celebrate. The performance by Woods and his orchestra is lithe and flexible, never sounding melodramatic or exaggerated for effect. Just for fun I thought it would be interesting to compare it to one of my reference versions, that by the Vienna Philharmonic under the baton of Leonard Bernstein (also a live performance). What hit me right away was just the sheer power of the Vienna Philharmonic; this was not really surprising, as the Vienna forces outnumbered the Colorado forces and were playing in a mighty fine acoustic space. Still, the MahlerFest forces have produced an attractive interpretation of this work, well worth an audition. The recording quality of these discs is more than acceptable – very good, in fact – but the plain truth is that the Colorado MahlerFest Orchestra is simply not going to sound like the Vienna Philharmonic, especially in Mahler. No shame in that.

But the real attraction of this release is the world premier recording of another Fifth Symphony, that of British composer Philip Sawyers (b. 1951), of whom. Woods observes: “Composer Philip Sawyers has become recognized as one of the most important symphonists of the past 50 years. Like so many musicians, Sawyers saw many long-anticipated projects disappear overnight following the emergence of Covid-19. However, like Mahler, he has chanelled his energies back into hi creative work, and since then he has produced a new Viola Concerto, a Double Concerto for Violin and Cello, a string orchestra piece, and most recently, his Fifth Symphony. Whether by coincidence or design, Sawyer’s Fifth is also in five movements, and, like the Mahler, it shows a composer at the height of his powers exploring new musical territory.” From the very opening, this symphony announces itself as the work of a serious, major composer. There is a strong sense of mystery in the opening movement, of something brewing beneath the surface. The second movement ups the energy level, giving the brass opportunity to shine, while the third movement, marked Lento, is more brooding and searching in tone. With some plaintive writing for the woodwinds. The fourth movement begins with swirling strings and continues in an energetic romp. The finale opens with boisterous brass and percussion and continues along with high energy until shifting gears and ending subtly, as if in a dream – simple, but striking.

The Sawyers Symphony No. 5 is a remarkable work that deserves wider recognition. It can be purchased here: https://mahlerfest.org/product-category/mfaudio/.

KWN