Monday 8 May 2006

Leonard Bernstein: Mahler Complete Recordings on DG Vol: III

Symphony No. 8 in E flat major
Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra
with Rudolf Scholz, Trudeliese Schmidt, Judith Blegen, Gerti Zeumer, Hermann Prey, Jose Van Dam, Margaret Price, Agnes Baltsa, Kenneth Riegel
Das Lied von der Erde, for Alto (or Baritone), Tenor & Orchestra
Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra
with James King (Tenor), Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau (Baritone)
Symphony No. 9 in D major
Concertgebouw Orchestra
Symphony No. 10 in F sharp minor (Adagio)
Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra

Deutsche Grammophon 4775187 Bargain/Mid Price
(5 Discs)

Following on from my pretty critical overview of Bernstein's Deutsche Grammophon Sibelius and Elgar Box set, I thought I'd turn my attention to the later symphonies of a composer whom he was arguably the most significant (and somewhat controversial) exponent of in the late 20th Century, Gustav Mahler. Bernstein had a well documented affinity and love affair with the music of Mahler restlessly proselytising its cause throughout his life. His passionate, revelatory performances and recordings from the 1960s were especially significant culminating in the first complete Mahler symphony cycle on record and the facilitating the full reintroduction of his music into the orchestral mainstream. To Bernstein it was as if Mahler had written his symphonies with himself in mind, and to many concert goers and record buyers across the 1960s and1980s both composer conductors became together, for good or bad synonymous. Documenting this evolving relationship, Bernstein embarked between the 1970s and early 1990s on recording a second more idiosyncratic cycle for DG which the recordings in this set, except the 1967 Decca Das Lied originate.

Mahler's 8th
In the case of the massive eighth symphony Bernstein died shortly before he was scheduled to record a second studio version with the New York Philharmonic for DG. Consequently the vaults of Austrian Radio Station ORF constitute the source of the 'live' eighth in this volume. Unfortunately, the limited ORF recording and engineering of a 1975 Salzburg festival performance really doesn't do Bernstein's subsequent grandly moulded and energetic vision of Mahler's grandest symphony justice.

The combination of the limited 'live' recording and engineering with Bernstein's intensely theatrical and orotund interpretation give the recording and performance a series of somewhat unintentionally surreal and amusing passages. The most significant problems are the variable choral, vocal and orchestral balances which barely serve one choir let alone the three required by Mahler. In the louder passages of both movements a frustrating congestion becomes apparent giving impression that everybody is one steps off simply shouting at each other over the orchestra. Add to this highly conspicuous editing and patching at points where the ensemble presumably went off key, plus an organ whose contributions sound akin to a fairground wurlitzer and you get the picture...

These criticisms aside, the VPO and soloists are generally fine and spirited in the circumstances and it is hard to fault Bernstein's committed approach, especially when he can be easily heard groaning and stomping the floorboards under his podium into oblivion throughout the performance. Bernstein's vision in Part One 'Veni Creator Spiritus' is swift, high on tension and electricity attempting to conjure an ecstatic release, whilst an expansively moulded approach is taken in Part 2's Faust setting, although still replete with self consciously febrile moments of hysterical intensity exacerbated by the engineering. Bernstein's vision of the finale and climax of the symphony after the final chorus trades the transcendentalism redemption of fine European versions such as Chailly/Concertgebouw, Sinopoli/Philharmonia, Tennstedt/LPO for a conspicuously American bombastic and declamatory vision of redemption. Undoubtedly sincere and glorious, its almost a little too much in your face. Of course, Bernstein would argue that is what Mahler intended, however I prefer the more common subtle spiritual, dare I say less materialistic, approaches to the finale, such as Tennstedt and Chailly, which shift emphasis back more to the final chorus than the loud closing moments of the symphony. Solti's celebrated Decca Chicago recording is perhaps closer to Bernstein's intentions in terms of impact and extroverted drama whilst being far better recorded, sung, and conceived under studio conditions.

Das Lied Von Der Erde
Bernstein's 1966 Vienna Das Lied von der Erde using the baritone of Fischer-Dieskau rather than the normal alto again is equally idiosyncratic but far more successful. The engineering in this instance is generally very good, vividly conveying the elegance and magic of the Vienna Philharmonic woodwind and strings. With this sumptuous orchestral palette at his service, Bernstein's highly individual, expansive and expressionist perspective is amongst the most expansive on record at 67 minutes (the classic Walter/Ferrier/VPO clocked in at just over 60 minutes). This is no bad thing. King and Dieskau are in fine form in their respective movements and Bernstein's approach is vindicated by a mesmeric and moving interpretation which firmly wears its heart on its sleeve and culminating in a memorable Der Abschied.

Dieskau's famous moving and haunting performance in this movement is one of the highlights of the recording, infusing the text with a palpable humanity against the moments of almost suffocating silence, and Bernstein and the VPO's vividly intense and atmospheric performance backdrop. Nevertheless, the only criticisms I can envisage of this fine music making in particular would be that some will find Dieskau's emphases and inflections in Der Abschied hand in glove with Bernstein's
generally italicised approach veering toward self conscious and self regarding. These perceivable quibbles taken into account, this sincere performance is easily amongst the finest and most stimulating recorded versions I've yet to hear of the work, and this weighs in the favour of the set.

Mahler's 9th
The 9th in the set is Bernstein's third recording of the Symphony with the Concertgebouw following on from his celebrated recordings with the New York, and Berlin Philharmonic. It also happens to be one of the most controversial Mahler 9ths on record. This is not to say that the recording is without its merits. Technically the performance and engineering is accomplished showcasing a broader than usual but no less absorbing first movement (complete with irritating wobbly lead trumpet which couldperceived to jaded ears as empahising Mahler's arrhythmia), and a set of somewhat more conventional inner movements.

However, the self consciously expansive,and colossal edifice that constitutes the final adagio is where the controversy resides. Twenty three minutes in New York, twenty six minutes in Berlin, thirty minutes in Amsterdam Bernstein somehow gains seven minutes in this movement over nearly thirty years! In this vision Mahler's redemptive death prayer is treated to super insensitive moulding and a very broad tempi which are almost too enervating for its own good. Towards the protracted ascent to the climax of the movement Bernstein's exaggerated phrasing, hesitations, and painfully laboured tempo create the almost cosmic impression of the movement's tonal fabric tearing slowly apart under the weight of this approach! Memorable and disturbing, probably as Bernstein intended but also excessively self regarding.

Somehow Bernstein's morbidly peculiar vision of the final moments of the symphony are even more disconcerting. The fading, disintegrating final moments are of the 9th are self consciously spotlighted in a protracted and insensitively italicised manner which robs Mahler's dying musical utterances of their quiet dignity and trancendental qualities. This is a very public musical death, which typifies the bewildering and frustratingly interventionist approach to the adagio. All very interesting and provocative, but not very convincing. Sadly the music is simply not allowed to speak for itself as it does in Bernstein's earlier recordings or the classic recordings of Walter, Klemperer and Karajan.

Mahler's 10th: Adagio
Taken from the soundtrack to a UNITEL video recording, this
brightly lit and satisfactorily recorded performance is unsurprisingly broad showcasing the VPO's luminous sound. Alongside the Das Lied it stands as one of the more successful and cohesive interpretations in the set.

Conclusion:
Although a welcome reissue at mid-price, the set is not completely convincing value for money. Just under Four and a half hours of music spread across five eighty minutes discs is a bit suspect! Especially when the highlight of the set Das Lied can be purchased seperately at mid price, and the acceptable 10th Adagio is effectively a 30 minute filler for two interesting if idiosyncratic 90 minute symphonies, neither of which are front rank versions. Of course Bernstein fans will lap this all up, even if he did it better in his earlier less idiosyncratic recordings. General listeners and Mahler fans are better off approaching with caution.


Brahms - Piano Concerto No 1 : Zimerman/Rattle/Berlin Philharmonic

Brahms: Piano Concerto No. 1 in D minor (Op. 15)
Krystian Zimerman, Piano
Berlin Philharmonic, Simon Rattle


Deutsche Grammophon 4776021GH
(Mid Price on Release/will eventually revert to Full Price)

On nearly all technical grounds this latest account of Brahms' First Piano Concerto is pretty much state of the art. Zimerman’s characteristically immaculate, sensitive and refined playing is brilliantly weighted, whilst the Berlin Philharmonic under Rattle’s direction provide a luxurious and brightly lit orchestral backdrop. However, this said the recording is a good example of when great engineering, great playing, and great artists don’t necessarily produce a 'great' final product.

The high point of the performance for all concerned is easy to identify. The striking Adagio is a powerfully sustained 16 minutes of poignant almost Zen like calm. Interpretatively, however, the outer movements are less convincing failing to provide the fullest contrasts with the adagio and hold their own with the finest recordings of the piece. In the first movement Rattle’s well moulded approach lacks tension conspicuously failing to match the dark tension and repose of classic recordings by Gilels/Jochum, & Szell/Curzon, or even the more idiosyncratic Arrau/Haitink. Whilst in the finale Zimerman’s approach comes across as curiously lightweight, despite his interesting Schumann-esque inferences and sparkling finger work.

I'm not completely sure Zimerman's a natural Brahmsian either despite the reliable flair, distinction and insights of his playing. His crystalline technique coupled with a somewhat self conscious, calculated and at times underpowered approach really doesn’t seem to fully inhabit and reflect the crucially darker and more muscular aspects of the Brahmsian sound world in the manner pianists such as Arrau, Serkin, Gilels and Pollini have done in the past. I'd also be interested to hear Rattle in more Brahms as here his general interpretation, although impressively moulded and meticulous, is somewhat lacking in character. Overall, a slightly disappointing release but nonetheless well worth listening to for the beautiful adagio and some interesting touches and insights throughout the piece, some of which are more succesful than others.