DKR de: Berlin PO/Alan Gilbert. Emmanuel Ax, Christianne Stotijn. Berg lieder, I.S. Katschei musik the highlights. Philharmonie Berlin. 01.04.11

Contrasting sonorities, between concertato of winds and strings, more plentifully intermixed, intermeshed in Stravinsky’s Firebird – especially as played complete, seemed unifying theme to well varied program New York Philharmonic music director Alan Gilbert conducted - also of Alban Berg lieder and Mozart concerto.

Christianne Stotijn made most distinctive, opulent soloist for the Seven Early Songs by Berg. Evenness of tone all across the range, fine bloom on often floating top, at once vivid and intimate painting of Romantic text by varied poets made all here clearly evoke shifting moods, lights, perspectives issuing forth. Mystery evoking barely lit night sky for reprise of beginning of the first song, ‘Nacht’ was haunting, Stotijn’s voice opening out more fully, beseechingly for the ‘Gib acht’s’ that frame crest to first stanza of this song and envelope its conclusion.

Gilbert and the Berliners became more openly engaging in accompanying the chamber ensemble accompanied ‘’Schilflied’ (Reed Song) with its more apparent clarity of texture, all to limn Stotijn’s intimated and yet full grasp of romantic yearning, longing this song more directly conveys. Febrile line from Stotijn opulently filled out ‘Die Nachtigall;’ ‘with for its quasi-operatic conception, Gilbert and string section of the Berlin Philharmonic sounded slightly retiring. Stotijn floated crests to the song’s broad line with fullness and ease. Lightly apprehensive conversational tone very knowingly filled out ‘Traumgekroent . It all worked toward Stotijn’s alternation of darkening and lightening of her tone, latter working toward ability to float very freely the soul-liberating high G - in engagement with image of night closing this song. Light interlude of ‘Im Zimmer’ (‘Indoors’) got intimately pointed, contrasting it with rich appoggiatura laden, rapturous ‘Liebesode’, betraying sense of deep longing underneath, fullness thereof grasped entirely on ‘so reich an Sehnsucht,’ its closing line.

For closing song, ‘Sommertage’, fully orchestrated, Gilbert became more openly engaging in his collaboration with Stotijn than with either one of two other fully orchestrated songs here. Stotijn picked up well on sense of passionate determination, desire, intimation of such, in view of the fleeting quality of youth, of life in general. Alan Gilbert throughout, though passively for some of the Berg,, made a fully supportive accompanist to Stotijn, having the Berlin Philharmonic read their elaborately harmonized lines, spellings with good clarity, likewise of purpose, with keeping in mind the gentle naivete of vision conveyed here, but perhaps as all at slight distance from the very emotional fiber near core of this brief cycle. Stotijn, who gave a fascinating recital at Edinburgh last fall of Schoenberg’s Opus 15, ‘Book of Hanging Gardens’ and selection of a dozen Strauss lieder, made ideal choice for soloist here.

Alan Gilbert then brought out Emmanuel Ax for the E-Flat Piano Concerto, K. 482 by Mozart, composed for Lenten season concerts of 1786 – alongside most celebrated concerti Mozart wrote in A Major and C Minor. Identifiably, a generically Romantic approach to Mozart prevailed here, Gilbert stepping back from being slightly pedantic on opening ritornello (and other ritornelli) to allow Berlin wind principals to expand out deferential lines with fine grace. Gilbert then boldly framed approaching first solo entrance, Ax providing his lines good, gently playful fluency. Some stodginess interfered with grandiose B-Flat Minor opening mostly solo transition, Ax then deftly descending into turning winsome first movement’s second theme. Slightly pulled back phrasing of runs coming off, also during transition leading up to the second theme became tricky for Ax to shake off - also after phlegmatic start to ritornello right before the Development.

Ax slightly dragged pace through harmonic sequencing to follow, his runs blandly decorating line beneath in mostly the winds; he then could hardly make re-transition more yielding than how his playing sounded already. Fortunately, some reassuring sobriety then took over, managing to restore sense of scale to how this passage concludes. Ax, in decoratively imitating flute consequents from the Exposition, was imaginative, but expanded out second theme in the recapitulation, curiously came across slightly glib, phlegmatic. Enveloping for starting the cadenza became self-conscious, as toward also making following utter flourish of it all discreetly introspective.

Gilbert, in having provided Ax limited poise, grandeur to frame his solo flights during expansive first movement made statement of theme in strings alone glibly shaped to open the second. Ax then opened out beseechingly on first variation with singing tone, though phrasing some of it slightly as from behind. Including duet flute and bassoon duet over strings, the most Mozartean playing Berlin provided here emerged during variations led by woodwinds. Ax somewhat heavily underlined running left hand sixteenths for minor key variation in-between (two in major keys). Gilbert then made phlegmatic firm tutti statements in dialogue with more yielding soloist – replies thereof deftly, elaborately expressive, continuing simply, varyingly so to the end, with Berlin Philharmonic less well defined behind Ax - while not forgetting how first-rate their woodwinds.

Woodwinds very well abetted animated skip from Ax through rondo theme, return thereof during the finale, Ax providing second theme equally good spring and animation – with Gilbert slightly retiring right behind. All slightly more in earnest, leaned on than how the music, fleeting impression for it to make, might better simply speak for itself, the central Minuetto section had winds and Ax especially trading off how to make ardent vocalized line out of much of it. Less genuine was Ax making fleeting cadenza reprise of this section precious, Ax and winds for reprise of main section of this needing allotment of more space with all a bit stiffly, but robustly pressed forward from Gilbert. All in all, for the concert hall, this was a fairly good, passable K. 482, if lacking something in grand gesture and fully realized expressive weight framed thereof for it.

Having Mozart programmed likely abetted how very well much of ‘Firebird’ went. The Berlin Philharmonic has neither played or recorded the complete score for this much; when they had, under Bernard Haitink, results, due in part to some weighing down of Teutonic accents in both strings and brass, emerged only intermittently inspired – taking also into account Haitink’s London Philharmonic disc of this (still among very best listed). Gilbert kept restrained infusing ‘Firebird’ with any excessively projected or American accent. Such could have from Berlin easily turned out wonky, awkward.

Pulsation through brooding Introduction was good, but color dry from lower strings, but lower winds and brass then better defining repeat of the same lines. Gilding of animation to percolate up from depths below and rushing through Jardin enchantee made for a surface-y feel to further opening paragraphs. Breeze through Firebird’s first appearance on the scene, with fine shimmer achieved in the strings, emerged very well in character; as abetted by bright woodwind and muted trumpet solos, her dance conveyed much supple life and animation, with capture by Ivan continuing matters well on cue. Woodwinds for ‘’Supplications’ found themselves slightly more, though characterful, to the fore than the norm for strings having entered somewhat subdued and dry, denying some shape to all their beseeching. Strings returned for reprise of main section with better profile after well achieved lighter arabesque for middle section to this.

Following brief taking in of Ravel-esque dreamy atmosphere all about, rhythmic pointing of ‘Jeu avec pommes d’Or’ was good – very fine clarinet solo to solo viola obbligato notable. Mild preciosity from Gilbert only intermittently began to turn things bland, as also did a little tentativeness toward making good profile to line for lyrical Round Dance to follow. Past a slightly rushed daybreak and other than gilding several flowers springing up along the way, Gilbert became the most engaged he had been entire evening long with much sorcery, trickery, carillon from Katschei and his minions to kick in. Even places where Gilbert, especially for Katschei, tended to almost over-emphasize, underline - as during dialogue between Ivan and sorcerer, came alive for all the very droll wit Gilbert could pack within – including for passing explosions of rage.

Picking up pace for all of Katschei’s malevolent retinue as segue into Danse infernale was joyously spot-on. The bizarreness and queer Mozartean lightness to Danse infernale itself all became very telling. Gilbert’s balancing, interweaving of Berlin woodwinds through string section refrain was at once very well defined and supple. Flute flutter-tonguing and Eastern quality to strings on their melisma chanted refrains built up to very defiant conclusion. Equally focused was the following Berceuse, excellently so, deeply achieved principal bassoon solo, strings gilded on descant harmonizing above just right.

Achievement of light, following droll sorcerer’s demise, however got lingered over more heavily than Gilbert could manage well, but emergence of solo horn from afar spinning out his lines was haunting, preparing solidly accented general rejoicing, if mildly less engaged with primary colors to the fore here than with mercurial, prickly interplay, engagement with sinister forces omnipresent before. Gilbert brought much of his own knowledge, character to this score, even if not having yet found a completely defined interpretation for it entirely; too much though can be made of that. Many of the right elements are already present; the Berlin Philharmonic emerged deferential to solid effort thus evident from Alan Gilbert at the Philharmonie. daskulturradio.de

Met (NPR): Debussy's Pelleas - Miller production (revival) - through heavy naturalistic trudge under Simon Rattle (debut). New Year's Day.

With only so much experience in opera thus far, it seems that debut of Simon Rattle with the Metropolitan Opera has become long overdue. The Met granted him his choice of repertoire with which to make it; that choice is obvious. He had what on paper naturally would appear a good hand-picked cast with which to work, and among productions that originated during Volpe era at the Met, a good pick as well – by Jonathan Miller. Miller sets Pelleas during time it was written, the Belle Epoque era. Miller has gone further in making light of to abolishing altogether elements of mysticism that infuse Maeterlinck’s text, then some of Debussy too. Perhaps more controversially than anything else, Melisande is no longer the innocent waif, but even deliberately active forthright protagonist, perhaps driving it all, behind much action to take place,

One other irony is that wisest presence on Met stage for this appeared to be Golaud (Gerald Finley). Normally, we think of Golaud, as lone character in this abiding by classical reason or logic that in being trapped by all of what is phenomenal in his midst turns out at end of day to turn him into the most uncomprehending, least enlightened, basically most clueless among modest sized cast of characters populating Debussy’s opera. Simon Rattle, conducting a work he has conducted at Salzburg with the Berlin Philharmonic before, then two years later at Staatsoper with their own, Staatskapelle, instead – once same evening Barenboim conducted Schoenberg’s Pelleas with the Philharmonic. Stage direction at Staatsoper interestingly fell under aegis of being posthumous revival of ‘Grandma (Ruth Berghaus)’s’ production. At Salzburg however in 2006, the team that staged it there had initiates of Allemande in upright position, dressed as clowns, all facing front and failing to interact with one another. Rattle perhaps achieved the most responsive playing so far for Pelleas from Staatskapelle Berlin.

Rattle’s Met effort here sounded as though more of one piece than how has been described his outing with Pelleas at Salzburg five years ago. There by now certainly is some concept in mind, but what I would describe as still practically inscrutable. It is refreshing to hear Pelleas sometimes played unabashedly, unambiguously realistically direct, as one has already on disc in differing ways from Pierre Boulez and Claudio Abbado. Much in the way of wafting by, being least bit ambiguous or mysterious or implied to be in Debussy’s scoring goes mostly by the wayside here. Robert Wilson might be a more interesting choice of producer - with all its use of abstract lighting, graphics, slow choreographic gesture together with which for Rattle to work than Miller.

Rattle sought out of Debussy’s score its often full orchestral weight - development of musical argument along these lines. It was in this aspect of going about it that I fear Debussy’s score became something somewhat fleeting and elusive to Rattle – the more weighted down, the more elusive to maintain a strong grasp on it. Rattle continues most interested in bringing obvious darker undercurrents to Pelleas constantly to the fore; no doubt, on the other hand, doing Pelleas all svelte, misty, wispy, wafty is a distortion. This also proved the slowest Pelleas I have yet heard – clocking in at 171 or 172 minutes, not counting intermissions, applause, etc. Bernard Haitink, with Orchestre Nat’l de France, comes in, still quite slow, at 162. Here was a Pelleas almost along lines of late-career Knappertsbusch or Goodall - doubtful that either maestro ever conducted it.

Hi-Fidelity, reviewing the EMI Karajan Pelleas years ago, described it as more Maeterlinck, heavily allusive to Symbolism, than Debussy. It is likely the sveltest played Pelleas in modern sound - veering close to glutinous during this score’s most saturated writing, such as interlude almost midway through Act Four. Tempos are comparably very broad to on the still fairly recent Haitink (extending beyond it only by a minute).

Debussy however was, in adapting Maeterlinck, striving for realism, but defined along different parameters than the naturalism in vogue during his day. What more uninspiring can be turned into a libretto, in other words than a Theodore Dreiser novel? (And yet that has been, in terms of commission, been tried at the Met recently). I have also avoided on purpose listening to Nicholas Maw’s Sophie’s Choice - and have regretted time spent on Heggie’s Dead Man Walking I would rather admit accidentally stepping in than listening to again. For objectivity’s sake, it was worth one try.

When taking on Debussy’s Pelleas, to avoid giving it any slanted perspective, one has to judge for one’s self how subliminal or overt to reckon its dream-state. The Miller production has ditched this as just reckoning it further extension out of Romantic myth, cliché that in partly different way Debussy left behind too. With Pierre Boulez – preferable on his old Sony recording, not to demean the integrity of Peter Stein’s production on DGG – a crystalline percolated flow forthrightly conveys Pelleas’s realism.

The closest on disc to Rattle’s interpretation is likely Bernard Haitink (Naïve). What reticence, lumbering surfaces therein however occurs with overall line in perspective, and toward keeping all supple numerous openings out – acutely moving the rapt never motionless stillness (as informed by what surrounds the line) for Melisande’s gentle, fleeting oasis of ‘C’est que jet e regarde’ during love scene in Act Four - there being illusion of continuing motion underneath through overtones, memory – with all orchestral activity having ceased for one measure. Anne Sofie Von Otter, not lighter casting than Magadalena Kozena suggestively nuanced this; Kozena emitted a loud yawn through it.

What largely resulted for Rattle was in a still valid hybrid approach to interpreting Debussy’s Pelleas was more than the alert realism of the Boulez interpretation – not desirable that Rattle attempt himself – a stodgy naturalism even lopsided as such – more prose than poetry – perhaps mildly denigrating, demeaning what Jonathan Miller’s production, with expected meta-textual ironies all its own, might want most upfront to accomplish. In fact, for stretches of this under Rattle, all appeared to be prose. He best brought matters to life for more dramatic passages, such as the finale to Act Three – Act Three often better paced, granting also the Met orchestra opportunity to sink slightly more into what they were playing than earlier and/or elsewhere.

More glutionous in terms of weight than texture was Rattle’s approach. Dynamics tended to be generically loud, denying suggestive color contrast for such lines as Pelleas’s ‘Nous aurons un tempete’ along seaside near end of Act One and for Melisande’s ‘je ne suis pas heureuse’ ending central scene with Golaud during Act Two. Dramatically climactic moments at end of Act Three and during Act Four did not stand out as better than reticently violent from what had come before, for playing already having become too loud. Veering close to massaged solos by Nick Emmett for second interlude in Act One, and by Rafael Figueroa (cello) under sagging English horn right before pair of half-brothers entering caves in Act Three. Reticent poise inhibited making supple transitions during seaside closing scene to Act One and filling out Pelleas’s beautifully undulated ‘Je les nous’ – most relaxed moment during Tower scene opening Act Three – as though wary of compromising a more stolid stance having to prevail.

After making phlegmatic the subterranean portion of Act Three - of good cross-voicing among orchestral lower reached - Rattle made worked or pedantic re-emergence to daylight, then excessively scherzo-esque what animation to follow. Eventually the close to this scene, all slightly over a line to being stiffly detached, could have had one ask what Debussy might have plagiarized from Ferde Grofe’s Grand Canyon Suite – except for the Grofe having been composed later. Other seemingly contradictory gilding occurred elsewhere. Mystery was most curiously lacking for evocative interlude before grotto final scene to Act Two - from low bassoons’ iunison with cellos even through shimmering tremolo descent in divisi violins for effort within their playing showing.

Magdalena Kozena as coltish, but distraughtly restrained Melisande made nigh perfect devil’s advocate for keeping Rattle off his guard against his own lesser instincts – of stiffly, vaguely groping his way about Debussy’s Pelleas. Tone tended toward opaque, pressed near the break, compromising pitch and consistent with much getting placed back. Innocence of Melisande became gravely in doubt – if as free, driving agent through action of this Melisande can still make a good liar to Golaud – her pouted, grunted low D’s right after being queried while at Golaud’s bedside about issue Golaud thinks she might have regarding Pelleas. French pronunciation– occasionally with swallowed consonants, tended to be thick – except for welcome moments of relaxation vocally, mostly while in the company of Pelleas – and for Melisande’s chanson as well. Even several instances of ‘laissez-moi’’, similar therein resembled indicating hypothetical Monica Vitti take on Melisande instead of better, one plausibly halfway enamored of Pelleas. ‘Ouvrez la fenetre’s’ during Act Five got close to as heavily limned as good warnings earlier to Pelleas of Golaud approaching nearby.

Stephane Degout as Pelleas, genuinely French casting at last, was very nearly as well cast as half-brother for Gerald Finley. He most often infused with warmth his naturally baritonal timbre for Pelleas , even conveying something of mystery that, for so much wariness of abandoning reason for cliché, Rattle became prone, pedantic to eschew. Pushed quality to Met orchestra’s playing in driving passages – missing slightly what eroticism compels them – abetted well Degout following suit – and even misguidedly attempting to match timbre with that of Kozena a few times. The strain in doing so was obviously felt. Acting, with natural feel for musical idiom and text, and also for Pelleas’s sensitive prudence in regards to threat about, was most realistic and believable. Degout cut an altogether handsome, likable figure as Pelleas - with much oppressively hardened all about overtaking the usually hazier gloom, hint, hint, cliché, of Debussy’s inspiration. Freely achieved top during Tower scene was most refreshing to hear.

Gerald Finley made highly credible a perplexed Golaud, making beautifully limned contrast between Golaud’s sensitive qualities, including befuddlement while interacting with Yniold in Act Three and guarded manner toward allowing jealous suspicions to overtake Golaud too early, and his aggression. Here was a definitively complete interpretation, not yet exceeded (or matched) by anything else this Met season thus far. The right snarl, incisive French and force for violent declamation came all forward, yet as compelled from within. Over slightly jerky accompanying from Rattle, Golaud’s imploring to Melisande for some reckoning, greater understanding as always to be beyond Golaud’s grasp, was deeply moving. Finley’s free top – for instance for ‘la joie’ toward end of scene in Act Two – revealed o youthful perspective to still be within Finley’s grasp- not lost yet starting in on heavier repertoire – toward as more easily Balstrode for English National Opera to win sympathy than Golaud. We have today, add Laurent Naouri, two Golaud’s sharing mantle belonging before to Jose Van Dam.

Veteran mezzo Felicity Palmer (Genevieve) with beautifully pointed, insinuated French, Paul Corona (Shepherd/Doctor) and after a throaty start Neel Ram Nagarajan (Yniold) hardly less, made for an altogether first-rate supporting cast – Rattle’s forceful not fortissimo marked but played pizzicato to open Yniold’s scene – yielding soon thereafter to better flexibility – not to unduly distract Nagarajan.

Former Golaud, even sounding intermittently like a second one on stage - long time colleague, close friend with Rattle - was Willard White to return to the Met (and Miller production) as Arkel. White fully conveyed fine dignity, wise forbearance, gravitas, and mystical lift to Arkel. Lack of mystery to Met brass underneath, for Rattle’s insistence on projecting forward Debussy’s sonorities, accompanying Arkel’s opening lines was enigmatic. Rattle’s sincerity could hardly be in doubt, especially at such a moment in this, so it was frustrating it was to figure out what it might be he wanted here.

White became taxed with some of Rattle’s slow pacing – as to sustain line, tone very well making awkwardly diphthongal some of his French. His easier lines to practically calmly bring Act Five to a close got drawn out to vocally relaxed Gurnemanz scaled proportions, practically making full epilogue out of all left to unfold, enlighten us once Melisande has mysteriously slipped away, then for remainder of long – the slowest Pelleas until now? - New Year’s afternoon quietly slipping away thereafter.

Comments dedicated to Dr. Jong-Wook Yu.

DR Kultur: RSO Berlin, Marek Janowski. Emanuel Ax almost single-handedly saves all-Brahms engagement. Philharmonie. 04.06.10.

Marek Janowski's past season with RSO Berlin has been truly something conservative - a complete cycle of the Beethoven nine, a series of mostly 19th, early 20th century music by French composers and two, likely several all-Brahms programs. What competition there is around, one expects more effort, care for Brahms than encountered here.

Janowski felt on relatively safe ground with Tragic Overture. Without taking anything to (quasi-)'period' extent, Janowski started things off conscientious about clear separations between its opening jagged textures and stark dotted rhythms, but too jerky, detached of the latter. Spinning out of first theme became too loose - indefinite for winds attempting to carry line forward. Janowski did best here with supple, ardent handling of overture's second theme, both times it appeared (as to open later the reverse recapitulation). Janowski caught well the apprehensive calm of preceding bridge section – aptly dark but mildly damp brass on abbreviated chorale this little section frames.

Janowski took cortege starting the slower (extended retransition) Development too light, glib through its woodwind led lines; what solemnity remained came across ironic, half-baked. Perhaps worse was heavily cliched back-phrase from violins playing at nearly double pianissimo, where only marked pianissimo, so that pianissimo marked brass became incapable of underpinning much of anything at all, then resulting in their brief, sonorous transition into warmly opening reverse recapitulation getting devalued or undercut. Spongy attack on first theme group octave descent jumping dotted rhythms segued into increasing stodginess the rest of the way, from which then the music never again recovered. Clumsily played luft-pausen occurring soon before the end helped characterize the rest. Granted, bigger names have made a mess of Tragic Overture, obscuring its form - sense of progressive turn too this music takes lost, regarding its abundant stark figuration and rhythms upon which it is built.

One assumed Janowski perhaps could have taken his ease toward letting much of the Opus 16 A Major Serenade play itself. Nevertheless, the two orchestral serenades have their subtle traps. Partly for not watching it, partly for being distracted by less important matters, Janowski fell often unsubtly right in. I recall the New York Philharmonic, perhaps very least desirable of any leading big name orchestra to play this music, Riccardo Muti a few years ago lovingly led through the longer D Major Serenade, as though no measure therein can be taken for granted - regardless how easily it reads to the eye. The whole thing just glowed under balm of sun-drenched Mediterranean color, infusing the amore with which Muti compelled the Philharmonic to respond.

Good lift was provided winds for downward lilting series of triplets to lyrically begin the opening Allegro moderato. Due to insufficient attention overall, repeat of first theme turned flaccid, losing just about all shape. Jerky pointing of alternating voicing and offbeat chords through the Development quickly turned wonky, right preceding brief violas’ maudlin attempt to stabilize the line. With same slovenliness, soggy accents helped drag down the coda to an adequate, but unpromising first movement. Following scherzo went worse - Vivace taken a stodgy Moderato, tense on its accenting, thus draining it of much animation. Trio led by C clarinets and bassoons comfortably fared better, but reprise of scherzo, with mildly more obvious strict adherence to tempo fazed Janowski equally as much. Hemiola (partitioning off in two beats in place of marked three) stretto jumping octaves comically slipped from being coordination with all the rest.

Equally an Allegretto to the Scherzo, the following Adagio non troppo also proved discouraging. Apart from workmanlike handled scherzo, it might have seemed more normally paced. In lilting 12/8, quarter notes seemed slightly too short and eighths slightly lengthened - out of such seemed fear of being unable to keep line secure through all this otherwise. Section of obviously gentle repose in flatted lower major key proved reliable anchor for restoring ease to musical matters here; return of the Adagio at least gave illusion of proceeding in more restful mode than how it first appeared.

How the intermezzo 'quasi minuetto' – almost prefiguring several late Brahms piano pieces - could have gone more flat-line, drab, missing shift of color to bright major submediant (F Sharp Major) for being already in wistfully cheerful major key, is an enigma. Reprise of F-sharp major parenthesis even entered almost a full half beat early - after practically etude dull regrouping style reading of the intermezzo’s trio section.

Rondo-finale opened regrouped, lightly clipped - as to hint at street accent for its caccia style frolic. Brief turn to minore for winds became soggy, with jerkily half-confused string section interjections to mark off the woodwinds’ simple, candidly retiring lines. Second theme proceeded texturally light, but rhythmically not - of which Janowski made more flexible shape upon its reprise. Attempt to make ardent lean on cello descending line played non rubato risibly proved off-tether. Forced esprit was made of much of what remained, with heavily marked trudging of open intervals in the lower strings and wheezing RSO woodwinds, all to goal of little more than dull thud to conclude it all.

Principal French horn of RSO Berlin waited to recover until later than his opening solo lines to recover from case of soggy timbre; Emanuel Ax began his part with clear sense of expectation if then less than entirely optimum accenting of his extended lines to begin the Second Piano Concerto. Janowski started orchestral exposition forthright, but with accenting still more out of place and sense of routine to spelling out of its argument. Somehow from this Emanuel Ax mysteriously very fluently played his solo exposition opening flourish, entirely free of grand-standing – still sounding detached from what had preceded him. Ax, continuing phase of heroic stance seemed to almost entirely guide the course of events in this performance as playing, judiciously so, essentially an obbligato part – albeit not quite Clifford Curzon at this; who is? Searching quality of fantasy persisted with Ax, looking past phlegmatic orchestral impetus – with stiff accenting on violas too insistent underneath more interesting idea on horns to push anticipation of next episode. Accent pointing between RSO Berlin woodwinds and Ax became momentarily too incisive.

Phlegmatic transition from Janowski into more agitated closing section to the Exposition could have sunk a much lesser soloist, not to mention the flat-line stiffly coordinated support that persisted, denying soloist any kind of firm springboard off which to play such difficult figuration. Ax blithely sailed through it, conscientious of orchestral part, but again as though not encumbered at all. Better perhaps this setting than up against a self-styled deconstructionist take on the orchestral part as Horacio Gutierrez (who repeated considerably better the same concerto with Litton in Dallas weeks later) encountered in Houston long ago under Eschenbach. Ax just almost alone guaranteed sufficient lightness for B Minor scherzo like section of the Development, then limning fine re-entry of principal idea in the horns with great ease. Light orchestral filigree early on in the recapitulation failed to remain together with Ax; dull RSO Berlin winds then entirely undercut Ax’s negotiation of difficult octave jumping trills at end of section, all preceding sturm und drang approaching these having been denied all line. One should not think ‘support’ to describe orchestra’s role in type of concerto Brahms wrote four times. Janowski’s leadership was even insufficient at that.

Clunky accenting from Janowski confusingly undercut light jumping octave pointing of line toward making sufficient peroration to first movement almost sustained alone by Ax, oxymoronic as it sounds. Ax, who it seems could never get lost in dull thicket he had run across here, I mention as funny quip here, was found to entirely miss a big quiet, unencumbered celesta tremolo entrance in finale to Mahler Symphony No. 6 with Eschenbach (to follow Prokofiev First Concerto) here approximately twenty years ago. Sitting in Jones Hall, I was unaware of what exactly had happened - the entire incidence almost completely inexplicable for remainder of performance to ensue.

Janowski for opening idea for the D Minor intermezzo-scherzo waited until past trio section of this to find any shape therein. Mysterious, highly taxing interlude for rapidly shifting octaves, other intervals in Ax’s part again coasted by entirely fluent - so unsupported to have come off almost completely flat-line orchestral preparation thereof. String section’s hatchet-y accenting of opening of the Trio section made it sound something down home (near-) Deep South. Ax fluently contrasted tone of wistful inquiry with well couched open passionate outburst where called upon, as though again oblivious of so much in the way. As much as the orchestral part should intrude, buttress the soloist, ability to find such input more than half the time was difficult.

Principal cello of RSO Berlin, finding more thorough poise for later reprise, followed Janowski closely in allowing sag to his lines and then intonation thereof. Opening lines to the Andante then ended with waltz-y back-phrase before bassoons and strings, followed by oboe, began to better enhance the pastoral mood. All then dragged to such an extent, it was all Ax could do to keep line alive - to change marked ritardando into a subito poco piu mosso. He continued rhapsodically, wistfully, through middle section in which Janowski hardly found any definition at all. Quiet re-transition into brief recapitulation and then poetically achieved slow ascending chords from Ax closed parenthesis, framed an ending to, against meager effort toward making Brahms’s orchestral impetus to the easier Andante happen.

All was adequately light and piquant for the finale, but with queasy hint of Biedermeier to it all orchestrally for not more forthrightly taking it on. Ax continued with fine deft aplomb, wit, fervor, and ephemeral passionate outburst or two pianistically – with savor for this music’s incidental zingarese schmaltz - lust, shall we say as well. Ax even at one point very remarkably replaced Gypsy orchestrally, i.e. crude accenting, with ‘gypsy’, as though halfway deaf to what the orchestra had just played, but ninety-nine point five percent sure just intent, lightly so, to set things right. Right afterwards Ax with great ease tripped through opening bars to the Coda – tepid, flaccid underpinning from RSO Berlin no curb or restraint on him whatsoever.

One could only remark at end of the day on the valiant, practically heroic effort on part of Emanuel Ax – what valuable at all had emerged from this go at Johannes Brahms. Given such circumstances, but most of all his highly developed intimate knowledge of this piece, I do not recall better from Ax, though certainly good before, than this. It was as though he had walked into the Philharmonie with in his mind’s ear what much better orchestral playing to which he played his difficult obbligato part a previous time. His disc, to earnestly seek after, with Haitink in Boston (Sony) could remain some reference.

Haitink/LSO at Barbican 13.10.09 - valedictory Schubert and Mahler "Das Lied" - Christiane Stotijn, Anthony D. Griffey

Certainly a major event early at the Proms last summer was Bernard Haitink’s twilit autumnal Mahler Ninth Symphony with the LSO. Pedantic bitterness in the scherzos, rhapsodic feeling to opening Andante comodo, and moreover transfigured light to infuse the final Adagio managed to preview a truly harrowing Lied von der Erde. Cast with two such lighter voices, it might have on paper looked off; especially British music critics have pointed this out. Back when Haitink made his only recording of this music - with Concertgebouw – Das Lied recorded as practically afterthought to finishing up recording all the numbered symphonies – it was the Ninth instead with which Haitink had found great success. Even in comparison with (an aging) Dame Janet Baker, this time it proved more the Das Lied; the Ninth still had much to commend it.

The program opened with Schubert’s ‘Unfinished’ Symphony. Even though the outline from which Haitink worked here seemed conventional, its thorough outworking went more than just the extra mile, especially in the first movement - uncertain attack or two in ensemble inconspicuous. The pace here - very broad - helped delve out great inner nuance and tragic weight beneath the dramatic argument here.

More than playing it, lower strings deeply intoned their introductory statement. Slow tremolo of violins cast a wintry pall over the whole frame and landscape out of which emerged winding, pleading oboe solo of emotional desolation. An engine of some driving rhythm kept pulse alive through bridge in the Exposition, but held back on accents with sufficiently phlegmatic tenuti, to in effect stem any tide. Gentle second theme emerged as something just to merely intimate instead of more obviously giving it complete shape. Haitink treated its reprise off loud tuttis as consequents – as though to drain what vitality might have been required to muster the strength to make tutti naturally resound.

Violins entered somewhat from behind over ominous rustling very dark tremolo in the basses to form very long, extended line in crescendo over internal antiphony among woodwinds. Such led into not especially incisive downward but truly anguished sharp drops from crests of the line. With great bitter despondency, weariness the full orchestra as though (as it sounded afterwards) taking or extending the Development section uninterruptedly a bit into a secondary development was accented as such, without being obviously incisive. Firm grip on all this continued unhindered.

Relief through Schubert’s recapitulating the oboe idea was then such as just simply one could anticipate. D Major recapitulated second theme was obviously a little brighter in color - purposefully so - in contrast with how it sounded before. Coda was very expansive from lower strings, upper string tremoli then rising firmly to climax and long yet firm sigh from violins toward strong final despondent chords from the orchestra. Finality to such utterance was sublime.

Moderate pacing for the Andante - well observed - very successfully avoided stodginess. With subdued eloquence, horns gently, very warmly framed lean but winsomely shaped line from the violins, in contrast with firm march in lower string octaves through framing ritornello to follow. With anxiously pleading deep tone, Andrew Richards (clarinet) phrased his C-sharp minor idea, assisting his woodwind colleagues in making gentle the falling off thereof in parallel major key – replying tutti incisive. Violins then effectively eschewed cheap dovetailing off such by fully securing the line - making unusually effective transition to opening theme reprise. Tutti answering wary reprise of second theme in A Minor had Hatink get his violins to phrase their arched descant over opening to such tutti from behind just enough to make something more trenchant to accents below than usual. After considerable relaxation of the tense, weary mood of the first movement, it was just slightly as though the listener at this point for the argument here should be taken slightly unawares. We assume too much how well we know this piece.

Gentle spreading light and lissome accent was made to close section before truly haunting account of the coda to this movement and to the symphony itself. It was most of all in the utter stillness of the pianissimo unison line in the violins that suggested picture of our being guided to perhaps the opening out of another world - as though in other words to attempt revealing in dim light hint of what might lie just beyond such gently framed but very wide, expansive horizon. Mark Berry (Seen and Heard) suggested presence of Mahlerian vistas from Haitink.

After Schubert came the Mahler. Haitink’s rhythmic organization for opening lines to first movement emerged subtle and complex. It had lift to feel as though in one, but at once somewhat phlegmatically spelled out the eighth notes that beckon off opening dotted quarter in the horns. Instead of making the line sag, as is conventional, all cumulatively led through first refrain in Griffey’s part with febrile descending trills supple in aplomb – above so much seemingly drained of all vitality. Broadly moderate paced violin arpeggio framing all this had fine sweep, helping make piquant accenting to follow.

Griffey and Haitink both found right lilt to “Wenn der Kummer naht”, decorated by light flute trills and portamento laced descant in violins. The trilled sounds from nature on bass clarinet under Griffey, usually too matter-of-fact to be noticed, doubled as shudder underneath, such as one might more forcefully had heard from double bass tremoli in the preceding Schubert - perhaps near as dissonantly, and interchangeably so. “Dunkel ist das leben” was also warm, relaxed, but never coy, doubled and imitated so suavely by Andrew Richards (clarinet). Brass then entered very crisp, as mixed in with baroque sickly incisive filigree from celesta and violins, in contrast with decisive stretto in strings and brass at “Herr des Hauses”, opening second verse. Violins took not long to wrap themselves in tone of great weariness. Flutter tongued flutes and solo trumpet light fanfare mixed, in so decoratively coloring firm, emotionally subdued accenting from English horn on opening horn motif as to support lilting supple allargando line in violins above for truly definitive playing here.

Anthony Dean Griffey had most work done for him toward striving for deep sorrow with which he sublimely imbued “Das Firmament” - something so beyond capacity of the drunkard in Li Bai to grasp - room left over for tenor to briefly philosophize over this. Expressionistic terror effectively stacked up through “Du aber, Mensch.” Griffey (understandably) veered close to barking a few lines; very little focus was lost as any consequence. LSO violins contrasted sweet reverie over closing “Dunkel ist” with lean, anguished appoggiatura on E to D-sharp, as though to cut right through, even more than accenting trumpets, innermost being of any auditors in its grip here.

Sparseness of texture was made suavely acute for starting “Einsame im Herbst” - more emotional desolation to be conveyed than textural clarity. One could feel early frost with violins playing pianissimo in divided thirds, with rocking open fifths from lower winds. Christiane Stotjin opened in youthful, febrile tone, without the deep tone of some - as cited before. With less overt stress on the modernism of Mahler’s writing, that Metzmacher very curiously made somewhat of an albatross for himself last spring, Stotjin this time got more the expressive impetus and accents, variety of coloring to make her voice and tonal quality match up ideally here with all its content here.

Haitink on purpose made tentative segue into ‘Was meint, ein Kunstler” - so confided by Stotjin. She then helped bring in ephemeral fresh shaft of light for “Der susse duft.” Haitink wearily on purpose built line to moment for Stotjin to sing, in passing, “Mein herz ist mude.” Stotjin then expertly contrasted from line before quite an instrumental timbre for “Ich weine viel” – extending into spare oboe and horn duet to spin out from voice trailing off. Urgent, despondent longing with “Der Herbst," enhanced by darker tone and vibrato prepared a fine crescendo to “Sonne der Liebe.” Haitink very effectively stressed the breakdown in awkwardly sloping down harmonic progression off crest of this. Effortlessly, sad and weary, closing lines resounded.

Haitink just gradually engaged the open chinoiserie of “Von de jugend” - Griffey lightly expressive with it throughout. Horn call was both at once pianissimo and crisply accented, with Haitink still phlegmatic – shades of Klemperer for sure or perhaps of Horenstein – in getting this going. Haitink managed too to give us a middle section that was both at once light in texture, but in phrasing it a long extended heavy sigh. Griffey, as lingering as he was to end this, fell slightly short of Haitink, with the latter’s wafting of closing lines underneath sprightly chatter from upper winds.

“Von der Schonheit” started ideally lissome, but as though emerging from barely obscured dark layer lingering well beneath. Stotjin started off lightly ironic - violins aloft, as though approaching some state of reverie, without turning insipid with such nuance while Stotjin added some tang to “Neckerien zu’ to close her opening stanza. Middle section, in marked contrast with Metzmacher last spring, was quite Klemperer-esque in maintaining reticent pulse; Stotjin found it considerably easier sailing than breakneck pace before. Eroticism, followed by equally suggestive naivete, was second nature for Stotijn here for so wunderhorn a lied as this. Less heavy than with Klemperer was so much, but also less of the suggestive pull or tug to hesitations closing this song out. All came to a warm conclusion, with dark insinuations still, more subtly, lurking underneath.

Naturally forced joy and merriment from dry, randy woodwinds opened “Trunkene im Fruhling”, Violins, approaching lines phlegmatically, but purposefully with utter ease revealed threat of drifting off into sleep, deftly assisted by Gordon Nikolitch (leader) – oblivious winds still chattering away. Griffey, lightly, almost sounding Schreier-esque, suggested well some baritonal depth for waking up to realize spring has arrived -“Der Lenz ist da." Haitink colloquially pulled out all stops for the dark intimations of “Aus tiefstern Schauern” (so distinctive to ear of Anton Webern). Griffey made most expressive his words, catching with lilt the inebriation in play throughout. Flourish during coda was aptly, prudently terraced; not to come across as just so much orchestrated clutter as often happens.

Opening sonorities for ‘Abschied” were utterly funereal - all light starting to fade out from the horizon. Stotjin and Metzmacher both had most success with “Abschied” in Berlin; Haitink took things further, but much slower (also somewhat than with Janet Baker). Metzmacher could do so yet at his own tempos. Haitink took interludes between vocal lines, stanzas very broadly, even often standing still, for arioso, recitative in woodwinds to sound forth over frequently empty space. Mahler having spoken manic-depressively of “Das Lied’ - perhaps not since Klemperer (EMI) did such quality resonate to extent it did here. Even at so slow a tread - Klemperer certainly less so – one could still pick up keen sense of this music’s internal structure - ongoing cycles of line and rhythm germinating, flowing beneath, encircling long lines of cortege, taking leave, and lament.

Haitink eschewed making quaint the first twenty-eight minutes of “Abschied” - as he hears it now mired down by steady undercurrent of great longing and despair. Individual voices over dark sonorities below most naturally emerged, sang, then gradually vanished, but while Haitink constantly preserved line and tension throughout. “Es wehet kuhl”, occurring soon before part three of the Exposition, has seldom sounded so unearthly still, following “Der Welt schlaft ein” and dark descending lower winds. On similar introductory motif, Stotijn started off very simply, just gradually anticipating “Oh sieh! Wie eine Silberbarke’ A lighter mezzo, Stotijn allowed little artificial darkening of the sound, toward making text so very expressive – albeit running into mild strain with end of line above. Her ardor for "Der Bach singt", over pleading oboe was sublime.

There was then sufficient room to mildly expand out on "Alle sehnsucht”, still more, with erotic charge on “Wo bleibst du” - having begun “Ich sehne mich” so well. Orchestra, still ascetically repressed, groped out from behind toward reaching greater expressive depth, as though, but quietly possessed, drunk on their lines. It was all as though necessary impetus to work Stotijn even perhaps mildly beyond what vocal capacity might be at her disposal, to so effectively ride “O schonheit – trunk’ne Welt," as she did.

Perspective throughout was all with ear for where all was headed. It was so moving too here the full empathy, to be encountering such youthful persona – as Mahler still so youthfully longed for life to continue - in Stotijn’s tone, making the deeper expression of a Ludwig, Ferrier, even Forrester seem mildly self-conscious by comparison. This too was great expression and music-making. The risk of course is to push too much - as happened with Agnes Baltsa (EMI/Tennstedt). What already cost Baltsa – hollowed out middle register - were the Amneris’s, Eboli’s, Carmen’s.

Answer for how things went interpretively – with a “Fliessend” at close of Exposition not particularly so for lines just mentioned - was in there still being momentum to drive clear active pulse underneath, free motion through all this. Lament for cello in lower middle register sounded forth with close to unbearable regret as to anticipate what was to follow. Unspeakable shudder in lower strings for long prelude to the Recapitiulation in lower strings was existential horror epitomized - with despondent close from deep woodwinds into cries that followed. “Er stieg von Pferd” intimated weeping in the tone - yet as still unwilling to let even this sink into bathos. “Er sprach” and “Du, mein Freund” offered warmth, yearning, angst - with close to no glimmer of hope left at all.

Stotijn then made something still more confidential of third section reprise. Nothing wanting for expressive contrast through “Abschied” thus far - here represented all light having departed for good. There soon opened anticipatory sense however of its restoration. For Stotijn’s ardent, fecund “Die liebe Erde all’uberall, Haitink reached back almost beyond what is realistic to return it very gradually. It was as though to have come from a different world - one we could then reckon four minutes before the end, from which all desire has vanished. There had been no need earlier to eviscerate out of earlier passages the emotional fiber of this music to get this, as happens in such silken sonorities as Karajan with his Berliners made show of achieving throughout. The LSO, delicately laced here with mandolin and celesta sounded as though merely playing forth a world having already drunk of its last dregs - to paraphrase Mozart’s Commendatore - to partake now of only celestial meat and drink. “Ewig’s”, from liquid, ample toned Stotijn were perfect. Stotijn completely disappeared into gentle mist coming from sublime reaches afar the most ideally I have heard such do so yet.

There still must be more to get out of this, upon rehearing it. Small wonder what Mahler said of to what considerable lengths this music could drive someone. He also said that one day his time would come. This was most assuredly a “Das Lied” for our time.

BBC Proms 2009: Proms 1 and 5 - Belohlavek/BBC SO Opening Night and Haitink/LSO Mahler 9

Prom 1 BBC Symphony Orchestra, Jiri Belohlavek. Alice Coote, Ailish Tynan, Stephen Hough, Katia amd Marielle Labeque - soloists. - Royal Albert Hall - July 17. 2009


Opening night.at the Proms this year proved a dullard overall. The BBC SO achieved good textures for 'Fireworks' but what rhythmic animation was in the playing did not occur from within. When the fireworks is in the music(-making), no visual enhancement is longer necessary. The Chabrier proved a charming, sweet, diaphanous treat, in a way sending up a little musical incense with which to consecrate so much that is to come, and capably sung by Ailish Tynan and women.

The piano concerti by Tchaikovsky and Poulenc that followed were performed in such a way to hardly be artistically or culturally distinguishable from one another. The grit where needed was almost altogether missing with the Tchaikovsky, and lush passages from both Stephen Hough and orchestra lacked complete definition. The Poulenc, in being French, almost stopped with there being the name Labeque. It as easily could have been Russian writing for piano as French - the slick, heavy, unyielding way the sister duo approached it Belohlavek was little better in engaging the wit and satirical touch, irony that infuses so much of this music beyond an intermittent flash about several times or so. There was little beyond approaching the bare minimum otherwise.

Elgar's In the South more proactively engaged the imagination and vitality of Belohlavek and his players. Some of the rousing quality of it was understated, but the rhapsodic quality of this music, its shifting colors and cross-rhythms came well to the fore. Belohlavek sufficiently, quite fully engaged shifts in light and atmosphere throughout. The sense of musicians enjoying what they were playing was back; Belohlavek's command of both line and gesture was strong. Alice Coote expertly gave the Brahms Alto Rhapsody an expected feeling of reserve and despondency, with clear, firm line, good diction. Coote made complete the sense of both rattled naiveté on the surface and burning passion tucked well underneath to further be calmed. Belohlavek, mens' chorus and orchestra supported Coote in supple manner, if just a bit shy of drawing out all the colors in this piece possible.

I am not confident that Brahms and Bruckner would have enjoyed such close comparison as the BBC emcee may have led us to believe. Bruckner's Psalm 150, in sounding a little more like Dvorak or Brahms in how the forces at hand performed came across as a little muddled, a little short on internal contrasts between its affirmative surface and dark underpinnings, and featured some unsteady engagement from both soloist (Ailish Tynan) and chorus of its more strenuous passages.

Prom 5 - London Symphony Orchestra, Bernard Haitink. Mahler: Symphony No. 9 in D Major - Royal Albert Hall - July 20, 2009.
Formal clarity (of which Haitink spoke in interview as being paramount here) with most flexibly expressive and secure playing than on this occasion was hallmark of the 1969 Mahler Ninth of his and Concertgebouw - still a hallmark in the ever expanding discography for this piece. Expectations naturally ran high for Haitink’s visit this year with the LSO, for the Mahler Ninth. For a considerably slower Andante comodo than previous - not exaggeratedly so - the LSO’s playing sounded on purpose drained of inner vitality and of color, with contrasts between episodes somewhat minimized between, starting out with dragging beat to “Lebewohl’ and so much brooding of the D minor subject (“Leidenschaftlich”).

Sneaking in was a somewhat borrowed tendency to texturally verticalize this music, as such one sometimes associates with Horenstein – not so much true with Haitink before. As different a Mahler conductor as Abbado reminded from Berlin ten years ago of the 1953 Horenstein/Vienna SO Ninth. Here it was more late-career Horenstein. Deryk Barker could not have been more pleased. Trumpet fanfares right before well-limned chinoserie and recapitulation of ‘Lebewohl’ seemed devoid of good underlying rock of pulsation guiding them. Moments of open space, so sublime here in both what followed and other episodes, seemed, partly too with Royal Albert’s acoustics, a little constricted. Haitink’s view of this music remains clear – his good ear for where it is headed, and now more interestingly so at times.

The huge climax twenty minutes in, after buildup of understated defiance - thinking of what people heard at Royal Festival in 1967 with Klemperer – quickly catapulted its way in - then to be followed several minutes later with steep ascent for anguished shift to minor mode submediant and brief reprise of ‘Leidenschaftlich.” Solo work from flute, French horn, and concertmaster was exemplary and beautifully calibrated into the framework of closing pages of the Recaptiulation.

The depressed mood of this Ninth continued into the second movement with soggy attacks on some accents and heavier, though also improved more roughly bucolic approach than innocently so in Amsterdam. Suggestion of defiance has crept in here, but as suggested more than stated as for instance with Klemperer. Contrast between sections was minimized, but Haitink made, halfway through, the third (‘lebewohl’) laendler sag a bit much, making return of first laendler in duet of bassoons answered by acridly spaced woodwinds enter too lively by comparison. Otherwise mastery of structure was intact and spirit of this music well observed. Rondo-Buleske, at sluggish tempo and intermittently compromised ensemble, was weakest of four movements in this. Moments of deftly handled naivete, so in place before in Amsterdam (1969) seemed wonky here. Heavy parody of the ‘academic’ in the rondo-fugue – hallmark of controversially paced Klemperer - plus the aggressive defiance with which that one ends – was minimized here.

Whereas critics have commented before on the 1969 Haitink having given individual characterization of each movement of this, the goal in mind here from the get-go was the Adagio - as bathed in transfigured light - which after a minute to get into it, built up to being fully open and sublime. It was then that there could have been no doubt why any effort to have attended this or special effort to listen in. Pace was just a little slower here than in 1969, with contrast into the Adagissimo final page slightly minimized; Haitink beautifully captured the contrast forty years ago. The Adagio came as somewhat of a release of even unwanted tension, that is to an extent of being alive – the having any desire to continue with, enjoy life – curious because a great love for life infuses so much of what Mahler wrote here.

Haitink opened out beautifully for those quiet passages of the Adagio that let flood the soundscape with the light of transfiguration. Equally so, the darker quieter moments, with solos low in the bassoon part, sounded as withdrawn as they should. Tutti through five minutes before the end sounded forth firm in resolve.

I take less kindly to the Bernstein epicurean approach - but lately the glib, streamlined manner of Gergiev’s LSO Live Mahler cycle has been off-putting. The LSO’s show of mutual affection for Haitink at close of this, with affirmation from throughout Royal Albert Hall was moving. More affecting still would have been less rush to applaud after the last sounds of the Adagio as heard here had faded away.