Uplifting
Mahler Resurrection
Symphony
from the
Czech Philharmonic
United
Kingdom.
Mahler
& Bruch:
Sarah
Fox (soprano), Jana Hrochová Wallingerová (mezzo),
Josef Špaek (violin), Czech
Philharmonic Orchestra,
CBSO
Chorus / Jiří Bělohlávek (conductor),
Symphony
Hall, Birmingham, 24.4.2015 (GR).
Gustav
Mahler: Symphony
No 2 in C Minor, Resurrection
Max
Bruch: Violin
Concerto No 1 in G Minor, Op 26
It
was difficult not to compare this performance of the epic Mahler
Symphony
No 2,
Resurrection,
with another from the same venue back in 1998 from the CBSO and Sir
Simon Rattle. But if any orchestra can aspire to rival the much
acclaimed Rattle version it is the Czech Philharmonic, steeped as it
is in the composer’s native central European tradition. On
April 24th
and
under their veteran music director Jiří
Bělohlávek the Prague-based ensemble made
full use of the renowned acoustics of Symphony Hall, Birmingham, to
deliver an unforgettable and enriching experience.
I
have often praised the concert compilers of Birmingham’s THSH
group for enterprising programme content, but this evening’s
grouping was not their most inspired. Squeezing the Max Bruch Violin
Concerto No 1 in before the monumental Mahler work was I thought a
misplacement, a ‘filler’ that failed to gel. Added to
this is that the concerto is a somewhat overexposed piece and its
execution by soloist Josef
Špaček was
uninspiring; although virtuosic at times I thought it lacked
emphasis. To say that the orchestra’s delivery of the exquisite
Bruch melodies came across with more feeling than they did from the
soloist, is surely getting it the wrong way round. I got the
impression that the orchestra could not wait to get stuck into the
Mahler, getting up to leave as Špaček
came on for his third round of applause: an embarrassment I don’t
think I’ve seen before!
Any
symptoms of exasperation were immediately dispelled after the
interval by the initial chord blast of the opening Allegro
maestoso
of the Mahler 2 – sit tight and listen it said. The double
basses set the tone of the Todtenfeier
(Funeral Rites)
a lament that the oboe and clarinet soon endorsed. Both pacing and
weight are vital in this first movement, a balance that I thought
Bělohlávek
judged perfectly with his twenty minute duration; quicker than the
average perhaps, but not so speedy that any deficiency in detail was
apparent. The conductor’s beat moved the march along in
deliberate and measured mode, Bělohlávek and his band at
one, having done all the hard work in the rehearsal studio. The
plaintive cries of the horns and harps spelt out Mahler’s
question as a student of philosophy: ‘To what purpose have you
lived?’ This heralded a gorgeous pastoral response from the cor
anglais, a mood effectively echoed around the sections. Strident
brass bursts and explosive percussion revisited the darker side of
Mahler’s vision, highlighting the ‘sweet and sour’
constituents of Bělohlávek’s interpretation
(possibly influenced by the Kubelik version, heard when he was
nineteen). The enigma of life’s struggle emerged in the final
bars – the occasion was becoming a memorable one.
Bělohlávek
allowed a two-three minute break before the second movement, in
keeping with Mahler’s wishes (although perhaps slightly more
than he had planned in order to settle everyone down after the
annoying ripple of applause that greeted the two soloists). The
triple-time of the Andante
moderato
was overtly stated by the baton of the ex-BBC SO maestro, the initial
Ländler
theme clearly stated without any need for flamboyancy of stick; it
was given a delightful airiness by the sonorous strings led by Irena
Herajnová. Creating a contrast to the unresolved tension of
the previous Todtenfeier
as
Mahler intended, there were further idyllic glimpses into the past
life of our hero. A wallowing contentment among the Czech
Philharmonic players infectiously penetrated the auditorium,
culminating in the fluffiest of finishes from the pizzicato strings
and the two harps.
The
importance of the string section was underlined in the third
movement, In
ruhig fliessender Bewegung (with quietly flowing movement)
yet the carefree attitude of youth had developed one of uncertainty
and disenchantment. Based upon the song ‘St Antony and the
Fishes’ its poetic makeup was peppered with cymbal crashes,
piccolo squeaks and woodwind palpitations, together with a heroic
reminder to the Titan of Symphony No 1.
Jana
Hrochová Wallingerová instilled the necessary
prayer-like atmosphere to the ‘Urlicht’
(Primal Light)
a song from Des
Knaben Wunderhorn;
her opening
O Röschen Rot! (O little red rose) was
simply and sincerely stated, yet conveying vulnerability as befits
man returning to God. While the attentive auditorium held their
breath for the first four lines, the solo was given some heavenly
oboe accompaniment. Then as the pace quickened with Da
kam ich auf einen breiten Weg (There came I upon a broad path)
it was the turn of leader Herajnová to add a luxurious lustre
to the mezzo voice.
Judgement
Day arrived with an almighty orchestral amalgam of sound for the
fifth movement, In
tempo des Scherzos – Langsam: Mysterioso.
After the fade, expertly engineered by Bělohlávek, the
first call from the off-stage horn was heard. A wonderful
kaleidoscope of instrumental colour and texture from the orchestral
ensemble followed, creating a feeling being in limbo. The dead were
summoned with an amazing crescendo from the seven-strong percussion
section, cut off with pinpoint precision. The return of the ‘March’
theme produced some fantastic ‘surround’ sound, superbly
galvanised by Bělohlávek. The far-off brass, both left
and right, plus fluidic tremolo from flute and piccolo introduced the
hushed CBSO Chorus; initially seated as is their want, they delivered
an intensity to Klopstock’s Aufersteh’n,
ja aufersteh’n (Rise again, yes, rise again)
– a hair-tingling moment. Again the combined sound as Sarah Fox
joined choir and orchestra was admirably balanced by Bělohlávek.
As the drama of the resurrection was played out to Mahler’s
additional text, Wallingerová’s O
glaube, mein Herz, O glaube (O believe, my heart, O believe)
was passionately rendered and Fox’s nicht
bright and clear. Their two voices blended well for the duet O
Schmerz (O pain)
convincing in their conquest over death. Rising to sing Sterben
werd’ ich (I shall die)
– who could sing this mighty statement sitting down? –
the full complement of performers glorified this ‘Resurrection’
in uplifting fashion.
Geoff
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