Dr Kultur: Gustav Mahler Todestag Konzert. Glowing valecdictory 'Das Lied.' Claudio Abbado. A.S.von Otter, Jonas Kaufmann. Philharmonie. 18.5.11

Claudio Abbado accepted honor of doing 2011 Mahler Todestag concert for Berlin – commemorative of his passing one century ago. Two works from Gustav Mahler’s late period occupied this program. Adagio from the unfinished Tenth Symphony opened. Ample, well varied tonal opulence made interpretation here distinctive. A sense of contaminazione – through developing thematic material - became something with which to reckon. Lushness from the strings hearkened back to days the Berlin Philharmonic could play this music with still greater ease. The Philharmonic grew in other ways more attuned to playing Mahler under Abbado - its boorishness, klezmar, eccentricities all becoming more of a natural than during tenure preceding his.

Opening violas resounded distraught – searching, trailing off during introductory idea provided – then to fully realize obbligato to opulent first subject. Abbado deliberately marked recurrent theme for B section during its first visitation. More fully harmonized, brass increasingly prominent, Abbado slightly set back restatement of first theme to build early melodic intensity before through variation process thematic elements then begin disintegrating. Violins passionately sang descant over main theme, for all then to abruptly dissipate into trailing off recitative. Outpouring of emotion henceforth sounded put somewhat at an aesthetic distance, as though to temporally observe from afar.

Any deconstructionist feel is really Mahler’s own – that Abbado let speak for itself – also to eschew notion, even after numerous completions of the Tenth that it is still anything but a torso. (I believe Mahler Ten, though arguably could be completed through the third movement – there seems almost enough there for even the obviously uncompleted first scherzo second movement, but still silly to have attempted completing anything past ‘Purgatorio’ - brief third movement interlude.

Color during quasi-Allegretto-like Andante pages was piquant, with pizzicati in violas and cellos enhancing spectral pre-Messiaen bird call, flutter in woodwinds. Voicing in lower strings, doubled sometimes in the bassoons that often get covered up in an ersatz-Brahms or perhaps Reger like dense texture got fully drawn out to both expand upon the opulence of Mahler’s rhetoric while making one hear from beneath what also tears at, rends the fabric. Chamber groupings of winds with concertmaster strung out light febrile lines between dense tutti.

Any sign of insecurity here was likely due to nature of the material itself. One might have sensed matter-of-fact trailing of unaccompanied violins' duet right before damply realized organ like progression leading into the Adagio’s dissonant climax. Light Abbado shot through such accumulated dissonance then infused lines of peaceful resolve through the remainder of this while keeping violins restrained with their vibrato – until chromatically leaning into low harp starting cadence preparing evocative chord to follow. Brief moment stable in the key of E-Flat high in the violins provided fine benediction – Abbado following Mahler’s instructions to keep matters here simple. This place can ideally, hypothetically provide the listener glimpse of the other side – such a way the Tenth’s very incomplete finale gets spoken of. This Adagio, under the right circumstances, will say all that Mahler Ten can say; here it did.

The other symphony on this program was one alongside that of the Eighth Abbado has conducted least frequently of all of Mahler’s symphonies – unofficially his ninth - just called ‘Das Lied von der Erde.’ Numerous early Abbado Mahler performances were with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. A cool temperament, grasp of atmosphere was paramount then, stressing the surface brilliance, linear clarity of Mahler’s writing, its virtuosity more than other factors then. A more thorough musicality, emotional depth he has eventually well provided, especially through again the Ruckert and Ninth symphonies with Berlin.

A glowing opulent radiance suffused the first movement, ‘Das Trinklied von Jammer der Erde’ throughout. Such in Mahler from the Berlin Philharmonic often gets replaced nowadays by something drier or urbane Things on top lines here started forthright in one, with feeling of some dragging (far) underneath. With this opening movement, Abbado seemed restrained about opening out very much, preferring to defer to his tenor Jonas Kaufmann. Kaufmann with lean tone and a ringing top brought out, unusually febrile, great expressivity of timbre while sustaining good legato and keen, impassioned attention to text. The forced joy on for instance ‘Herr, dieser Haus’, anti-heroism, deep angst came across completely. This piece can hardly get sung better than this.

Kaufmann resounded forth at ease with a ringing ‘euch Klingen’ – long sustained appoggiatura on (B-Flat and) A to fill out ‘Welkt hin du stribst. While stopping short of emphasizing surface brilliance at the music’s expense, Abbado continued slightly cool, detached, while always attentive to Kaufmann. English horn solo/obbligato during central orchestral interlude of this helped fill matters out, complemented morosely by Kaufmann on ‘Das Firmanent,’ for all to then fill with menace for ‘Du aber Mensch’; and ‘following.’ Even with Abbado deferring just emotionally one or two layers back, Kaufmann made very intense the start of last full stanza to this, then to gently back off at tormented brindisi’s conclusion. Abbado provided strong profile to dramatic utterances during its closing stanza.

In contrast with the more contralto like Thorborg, Ferrier, or Ludwig, we had here near as illustriously Anne Sofie Von Otter. “Einsam in Herbst’ here started off at easily flowing pace, never rushed - all orchestrally continuing to leave, likely deceptively a weightless impression. A richer quality to mezzo of choice’s middle register might be coveted, but pay-off in phrasing this music from a more youthful, intimate perspective here was very clear.

Between woodwind and string sonorities from the Philharmonic and Von Otter, there was in some of the modal harmony, lines a blended sense of capturing the blues, greens, rich lavenders of Mahler’s sonorities here. Gentle sense of naïve wonder filled Von Otter’s voice at ‘man meint ein Kunstler.’ Through passing indications of despondency, Abbado connected through overall flowing line without undercutting their emotional or expressive content. “Mein Herz ist mude”, coming off such a moment Von Otter darkly intimated in place of heavily underlining it. Contrast between achieving a brightly plaintive ‘Ich komm zu dir’ and finding deep sadness for ‘ich weine viel’ was excellent.

One had to rely upon the Berlin Philharmonic for sufficient lightness on ‘Von der Jugend.’ Deeply expressive was Kaufmann’s handling of sudden infusion of melancholy halfway through – after starting this reticent, heavily on purpose, over Abbado and Berliners lightly pointing the chinoserie; they then joined Kaufmann in lingering over melancholy of having encountered something deep, so unknowable midway through.

Lightness through ‘Von der schoenheit’ was, especially from woodwinds Mozartean - youthful stance of Von Otter to match. Several weak low notes apart, all gradually opened out to a world half-opiate, half-transfigured. Abbado wisely chose to keep slight lid on bacchanalian accents during middle section to this, both without losing character or instead unduly rushing Von Otter through it. Combined deep yearning and brightly rich colors infused closing stanzas, passing moment of occluding despondency in postlude to this - not shortchanged - only to highlight expression, sound world in very strong relief.

“Der Trunkene in Fruhling’, slightly deliberately paced, anticipating ‘Abscheid’ somewhat, sank things in more deeply. Kaufmann, equally as earlier, was again perfect. Something of a truly besotted Chinese temperament strongly rubbed off here – something all at once reticent, stubborn or distraught – drowsily reticent Kaufmann’s handling of ‘Der Lenz ist da.’ Indication of distraction from the wonder of Nature all about an irony-laced Kaufmann potently picked up - with honeyed tone several places. Abbado calibrated the bright chatter of woodwinds against both lighter string and more foreboding sonorities with utmost simplicity.

Abbado set his interpretation of ‘Das Lied’ – what may have been allusive to Bruno Walter and/or Herbert von Karajan already – slightly more apart with ‘Abscheid.’ Sense of the fragility of Mahler’s sonorities over deep undertow remained mainstay here. More radical sounding still was, in specifically spacing everything, austerely a sense of vast empty space – without any massive slowdowns to achieve it.

Von Otter, with lighter voice than perhaps customary, while completely filling out her lines, meaning within, sang somewhat obbligato to overall orchestral line This held true, at ‘O sieh; Wie eine Silberbarke’ – spinning forth at once lighter tone and intense word painting. Berlin woodwinds emerged deeply expressive, such as lied-like oboe at ‘Der Bach singt’ – Von Otter extending, floating out continuing line thereof. Von Otter then found it more sublime to instead of overstating despondency with ‘Die mude Menschen’ to, more potently, merely suggest it.

Anticipating dry, utterly desolate rendering of ‘Die Welt schlaft ein’ was Abbado to evocatively highlight, set up in foreground various strands of horn and lower woodwind obbligato over muffled strings. Other sudden change of perspective, switching what may be in background with foreground, or sudden emergence in fore of something absent a moment earlier was but one subtle means Abbado employed to draw all he could out of the ‘Abscheid’ – Abbado also less the novice with Mahler’s music than was Karajan when he helped give the world the Berlin Philharmonic’s very first commercially issued rendition of ‘Das Lied.’. The greater emotional, psychological engagement Abbado strongly insinuated hardly held back any secrets. Certainty restating opening recitative (‘Es wehet kuhl’) concerning much grief was complete. Beseeching friend final time before parting became, by still lighter means, most intimately expressive – without breaking line.

Coming off Von Otter’s dry, but fully engaged ‘Lebenstrunkene Welt’, arrived abruptly recapitulatory cortege interlude forthrightly issuing forth ongoing tread. Reach for deeply chromatic intervals in lower instruments underneath, naturally compelled much despondency to the fore. A plaintively febrile Von Otter re-entered with ‘Er stieg von Pferd’, all then quietly distraught with ‘Er sprach.’ Even with tone light, sentiment expressed continued to be deep. Arising, emerging from desolate landscape was Von Otter’s febrile, Schubertian impassioned ‘Ich wandle auf der Heimat, with winds left to fill things out further. In a way Von Otter’s interpretation of Mahler’s ‘Das Lied’ resembled Stotijn’s – perhaps a little more Stotijn as she performed this for Metzmacher than the more tragically weighted performance in London under Bernard Haitink several months later.

Coda starting with ‘Die liebe Erde’ with Abbado restrained from having strings dig in too deep, preferring to more sublimely suggest their doing so instead – all lingering, from Von Otter included – quickly turned all febrile. Through obbligato in mandolin, celesta, all emerged radiant and warm – blues through overall perspective gradually turned up without gilding anything - Von Otter’s ‘Ewig’s’, all melting into soft down Berlin provided, still had allotted to them modest remainder of the way.

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.