BBC Proms 2010: Proms 24 and 27. BBC Scottish SO, Donald Runnicles. Karen Cargill. Halle Orchestra, Mark Elder. Paul Lewis.

Prom 24. BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra, Donald Runnicles. Karen Cargill. Edinburgh Festival Chorus. Royal Scottish National Orchestra Junior Chorus. Royal Albert Hall. August 4, 2010.

This resulted in second Mahler collaboration by Sir Donald Runnicles and the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra for the BBC Proms, the first one of which, Mahler’s Lied von der Erde, also featuring Karen Cargill, anticipated Runnicles assuming helm this past regular season as their new chief conductor.

As first one of these I heard, this interpretation of the Third, in its overall profiling of form, was reliable, but in finding the character of this music within such, tentative. The first movement, paced well, but with self-conscious thrust on occasion to keep all moving - for fear of instead dragging things - made inchoate slush out of some of its fabric. Such became only able to fully dissolve right before end of the first movement. Boorish romp of the Rabble episode and enunciation of most trombone arioso both happened very capably. Runnicles distinctively also found a rapt stillness for long rests between more dramatic utterances, mostly during wintrier episodes of the first movement.

Curious was a tendency to press forward sometimes, to get stopped by numerous sub-phrases in early funereal sounding rumblings through this - the losing sight of being able to press still a little more forward through series of these. Excessive dovetailing of many phrase endings in arioso developing in solo brass, partly to hide how expressively generic Runnicles’s handling of all this was, also became distracting. After first soggy intimation of thaw outdoors, Runnicles made confusing in terms of placement (vis-à-vis accompaniment) trombone lines through concertato of brass to what gets intended as fairly definitively nodal, sufficiently final conclusion - before real thaw settles in. Deep pulsation in the lower strings to close this section only compensated so far.

Some haze was made of figuration leading into more complete thaw to arrive, followed by adequately, surreptitiously entering march; handling of climatic music to cap further overt pressing forward was stodgy. Large segue back to renewed cold blast (in D Minor) got rushed and brass arioso solos to follow again were shapeless, with change into brighter color for brief duet between concertmaster and principal horn matter-of-fact, only minimal. The Rabble section started off well, very much in character, but then lost – eight measures in – lack of focus to line ensuing through it. Strings through the storm then got drowned out, compromising the full effect of a summer storm to wrest one through the midst of all occurring about. Runnicles then awkwardly jumped over good two beats of rest for snare drum to urgently segue in the recapitulation Calibration of rustling tremoli beneath more spacious spinning out of arioso in trombone was even a little more emphatically off than before ‘rabble’ and tempest, but BBC Scottish cellos framed eloquently their closing phrase to what followed.

Lift verging on Disney, cartoon-like opened second half of the Recapitulation. March tune, though through much of the rest gained better shape and dark episode right before the end, with its large, wide sweeping gesture, ascending runs too finally at last gaining the profile they deserve. Push to the end from here turned so light, detached from all the previous to insipid length, perhaps to help one forget the limited engagement of the shifting variety of colors and light through such a sprawl of a Mahler first movement.

Dragging accents from the oboe principal apart, the Minuet took on pleasant shape, but with Runnicles once into first Mendelssohn like trio self-conscious about downbeats, to make sure his forces all enter right. Clarinets, coming off strong gust of wind coursing through the meadow with refined attention to where downbeats are, restored requisite lightness to the touch for most of this. Drowsy feel, though on verge of becoming too gilded, informed reprise of the minuet, but nervous insistence on securing downbeats stood in the way of finding sufficient magic for varied strong breezes to waft on by through reprise of the trio section – bespeaking less than fully adequate preparation for intricacy to ensue through all this. Not all charm could get lost here, but there continued a nagging sense that there could be more to all this than to come by underlining so much – with final restoration of the opening section here. The heavy gilding of the light surge into the Neapolitan in the violins indicated perhaps higher rates of humidity out on a summer day in the highlands - or near Brenham where the bluebonnets grow and by the ice cream we eat, we surmise the cows near here think they graze in heaven.

Third movement, marked Comodo, got to the most promising start of anything thus far, with all rustic accents clear and good jaunt to the Beethoven parodying trio section. Just the concertato of winds at play through the scherzo seemed, one could surmise, as effective self-guided, as having to be extra attentive all the time to reassure the maestro that, for their section, all remained intent on staying together. A few disproportionate accents and over-emphasis on fortissimo crane downward of octave staccato brass distracted from overall good flow in advent of expansive posthorn interlude to follow.

Broadly taken post-horn interlude began magically – post-horn placed more forward than perhaps is ideal. Some element of the vernacular then crept in, even crooning of such, into the playing, limiting to ordinarily sublime this adieu to romanticism. Spirited enough, forthrightly paced, extra pointing of kletzmer accenting and sloppy attack in the strings during scherzo reprise turned vulgar. Birds, perhaps wanting to catch more Mozart, Schumann in the posthorn calls when they resumed, had to blithely settle once more for muzak instead; with perk aplenty, they did just that. Runnicles made something too lightly restrained for very close to the scherzo - after slight trouble right before with notably brief, mysterious episode – before all got sent hurtling off to a very rollicking conclusion.

Equally flat-line as mysterious episode right before - it called for to be very close to still anyway - was how opened the Nietzsche lied. The deep toned, highly expressive and solemn Karen Cargill guided horns into obbligato of very well sculpted line; violins followed suit eloquently on their cantilena between verses. Cargill, past illusion of practically too motionless re-start, gave her lines, starting off very quietly, the fuller ardor, urgency with no lapse in quality of what she poured out. Why could not have the childrens' choir been called to rise out of their seats right before the caroling fifth movement, instead of two seconds in? All was crisp from both choirs, with Cargill lightly but very expressively delivering much expected penitential fervor for her lines.

Solemn fervor marked most of the Adagio, with measured, freely expressive slow opening to its noble line and arch. Mildly extra arched leaning into climactic passages, particularly the vertical handling of a last one to reprise of Minore episode, proved distracting. Fine overall legato, filling out of transfigured light pretty much however still ruled the day. One or two transitions produced from Runnicles tentative opening to coda reprise of the hymnal main theme. Second part of double reprise at one point also got a little more chewed upon than should be ideal. Runnicles, apart from excessively projecting allargando turns in the trumpet parts, showed restraint in bringing his steadily paced Adagio to a measured, very euphonious conclusion. Apart from several lapses, still achieved here was a fairly acceptable rendition of the Adagio, to close halfway decent, but ordinary stroll through Mahler's paean to Nature - his Third Symphony.

Prom 27. Halle Orchestra, Mark Elder. Paul Lewis. Royal Albert Hall. August 6, 2010.

One among set of ‘Impressions’, nine minutes long, John Foulds’ evocative ‘April-England’ opened this altogether fulfilling single Halle prom for the summer. It opens with bright woodwind dominated carillon of alternating perfect fifth triads, perfect fifth apart - cellos responding with folk-like air of their own. A passacaglia takes up the entire middle half of this piece. Mark Elder preferred within fine enveloped profile to emphasize this music’s warmer colors, but without understating too much its brasher qualities, as in some of its extended polytonal leanings almost coming loose from their tonal moorings. It is perhaps as much as anything our knowledge of the music of William Walton, that in this music’s brasher qualities and brighter dissonances, one may pick up on the surface some Petrouchka like quality to the scoring, but deeper still the influence of Busoni. Mark Elder preferred having this music play in mildly broader, Romantic context, but within fine technique on display from the Halle. For all the free alternation of contrasting, clashing strands to jostle about the Halle exuded much confidence. If not as fully characterized as possible, Elder made overall good nature of this music, with its vernal splash, still something to be presented as at forefront.

An air of self-conscious reticence with quasi-period abbreviated note values opened the orchestral Exposition for the Beethoven Third Piano Concerto. All suggested some fine opening out of the line with winds, their entrance with the lyrical second theme, Except for distracting clunky negotiated cadence of sorts, fine calibrated tremolo through Halle strings assisted very well preparing Paul Lewis’s severely negotiated first entrance, with even octave length runs slightly more rolled than how he played similar later.

From this point on, even including the on purpose strained sturm und drang opening to the solo cadenza, everything from this point on just fell ideally into place, with hardly ever any lapse to encounter again. In all three movements, Lewis’s alternation of solo lines with principal winds and elaborate accompaniment to them was astutely, keenly sensitive - Lewis always also providing strong shape or at least preparation to everything in this way. While always highly attentive to maintaining classical proportions, Lewis still brought out a fire, a stormy quality to even ends of lines of animated figuration to extend and highlight a solo line both seamless and febrile with vitality – all without even a hint of self-consciousness. It was very evident how close Lewis and Elder had come together long by the coda by the very rapt attention to all at hand from both, in as tricky a passage to calibrate as anything in the Third Concerto. Lewis’s marking of long first descending run with forthright marking of thematic motif in strong octaves beneath into scintillating subtly varied trills was further hallmark.

Even a hint of Lisztian fire subtly infused spinning off cadenza like runs in the Largo within sublimely classical profile, noble shape to it all; bel canto ardor for beautifully singing line on the Hamburg Steinway employed for this entire venture was clear. One had to take note of how nobly profiled slow measured ascents on staccato sixteenths to accompany chords in the winds then set off much spin-off of very bright filigree in the right hand to follow. All then through subtly profiled alternation of simpler lines restored complete sense of noble frame to the Largo.

On purpose hesitant solo opening to the rondo overtly suggested openly mischievous play to come – in most varyingly enlightened openly Haydn-esque a manner. Lewis made suggestion of Lisztian quality to most brilliant flourish in the writing, but as still strongly characterized and framed by very forthright classical profile to it all. Elder and the Halle could have scarcely ever missed a beat in what continued as their best efforts in combining so well with Paul Lewis. This even rang true through raptly attentive, well articulated fugato to frame re-entry by Lewis into sublimely framed E Major reprise of opening theme. Reclamation of the opening idea in C Minor by the Halle, sternly astute, recalled overall tenor, sonority of the first movement. For further contrast, skipping descending second theme was both sprightly and minutely pointed from within by Lewis – for Halle solo winds to attempt precisely matching him at it – at which they mostly succeeded. Lewis entered slightly early on purpose, rhetorically to spin out very brilliantly the bracing cadenza and coda to follow with, though rigorously firm, a very merry, bustling conclusion to not only a definitive interpretation of the rondo, but of much of what preceded it, concerto as a whole.

Richard Strauss at the 2009 Proms shared, between several major tone poems performed, the giving off of more brilliant virtuosity than have either Bychkov's 'Alpine' or this Heldenleben entrusted to Mark Elder. Whereas good characterization in Strauss takes much virtuosic ability to achieve it, the Halle, while understating it, remained confident. There is certainly a ruminative, philosophical element to take into account. Ironically, in taking such an approach (Luisi's 'Alpine' not lacking some special insights –cross-referencing to other Strauss), some of the humor that occurs in this music can feature in stronger, even high relief - as opposed, for instance, to resembling just another dollop of virtuosic gesture. Much, not all of the Mehta Don Quixote last year, brilliantly played, demonstrated very good ear for it.

There is certainly risk, with Heldenleben, in taking excessively the meditative or ruminative approach. Try for instance still fairly recent EMI disc by Simon Rattle and the Berlin Philharmonic - in which I had placed high hopes. It stands as one of the most pure, perfectly staid, marmoreal Heldenleben's around on disc today – nevertheless so well executed. With there being so much about the 'romantic life' with Strauss's hero, self-portrait here, one seeks, strives in vain for indication of anything healthy to this going on - apart from maybe Strauss’s long-standing patience, virtue, but hardly masculinity in living long with a woman who when peeved could on a dime turn shrewish. Toscanini, had he perceived impetus behind writing this was just as Rattle picks it up, might have held Strauss in close to same regard he did Bruckner - or speculate as to when Richard and Pauline might have taken up Christian Science or anything likewise ascetic.

It was thus with mild trepidation I approached listening to this Heldenleben; but glad to report glass considerably more full than empty here. Certainly one could construe a certain Victorian mild manner, restraint, reticence in going about this, but fortunately we were clearly into world as Strauss conceived it - thus farther away from Dream of Gerontius or The Apostles than with Rattle's still well polished Heldenleben.

Mark Elder made lean fervor out of the 'hero' theme, encouraging violins to make sharp cut-offs to their interjections between statements thereof. Foray into enharmonically achieved harmonies immediately turned all airy, with even incisive coloring of reverie penciled in - no gilding allowed. Fine, muscular striving was made out of broader reaches into restatements of the 'hero' idea ultimately into strongly marked passionate sweep up major ninths in the violins toward making freely broad cadence to this section. Elder relied not at all on prop of hairpin pause to politely frame adversaries' entrances; their insolence got forthrightly, rudely emphasized instead - with all variety of cocky wit possible, just exactly as all should happen. Languor from violins was in full supply to stoically provide empathy.

Cheeky reprise of 'hero' material refrain then ushered in Lynn Fletcher, first very pensively as 'Pauline.' – as though shy to enter center stage just as of yet. Her mastery of much delicious caprice to follow showed a few cracks - hardly at all to impede upon the variety of attack, wit, color with which she displayed the flighty moods, passion of Pauline Strauss. Surge of passion from all tstands behind her developed gradually - eventually to take it on in full, with simultaneously steady tone and unbridled passion, while keeping the simplicity of Strauss's design in focus.. Fletcher then with great ease fell back into fine state of reverie as full participant in taking it all in. it would have been churlish to ask for more. Rattle's 'Pauline' episode had practically become staid to effect it could have made D.H. Lawrence blush - not forgetting how well Berlin can still play it. Fletcher’s unusually fine portamento, coming off well limned harp glissandi, provided great finishing touch – followed by very fine reflectively ardent principal clarinet.

Battle proceeded with consistent touch of irony, strong wit. One waited s in vain for the Halle to make as grand a cacophony as one might immediately draw out of a Berlin or Chicago, but no matter. Shift in emphasis here was at least in spirit as much in line with what Strauss wrote as any hollow bombast to be made out of this. Much sharp intricacy of the writing in so much interplay very skillfully, especially in light upper strings and winds highlighted the irony. Such vain conflagration shifted gears with ease into lean, direct repeat of idea of 'man of the bourgeoisie' hero Strauss was - with repeat chord accompanying winds driving all stirringly forward. Elder only lost a little focus in this music taking on greater heights than perhaps his interpretation would sustain - yet with french horn principal excessively underlining his part (through notable quotation of Don Juan) as though attempting to take it all on alone. His excellently very controlled soft playing in final episodes, however, came across most refined.

Noble cast, broad pace, also expressively guided mild liberty with Strauss's tempo markings informed closing passages to this Heldenleben. If there were one or two places the Halle strings could have sung out more passionately, they only held back once again with overall shape of the discourse here in mind. A hanging, drained tone of reverie over still, rocking obbligato in English horn was most poetic, following agitated stretto Elder avoided making too brusque. The woodsy toned reminiscence of earlier tone poems in previous episode found Elder on equally intimate terms with all of this. Passing reminiscence of adversaries became oppressive, almost as though something frozen in the psyche - all the greater for arriving conclusion to be more reassuring.

Lynn Fletcher's duet with principal horn maintained very slow steady line - all riding out beautifully poised toward horizon – with brief following moment of peroration all devoid of bombast. If not the most inspired Heldenleben, it still had plenty to say - what genuine, fervently humane qualities in full this music should still ideally communicate.

BBC: Halle Orchestra. Markus Stenz - Reflections on varying stages of life. Mahler 4. Schubert. Carolyn Sampson. Manchester (UK).

Markus Stenz’s one other appearance for a complete Mahler symphony cycle at Bridgewater Hall, involving both the Halle and the BBC Philharmonic, continued here with the Fourth. Numerous symphonies in the series are accompanied by including a new work that reflects upon what Mahler symphony, to begin with, is on the program. With the Second, space constraints prevented my mention of Crossing the Alps by Colin Matthews, a choral piece of flexibly shifting bi-tonalities, lasting eight minutes. It all sounded as challenging, compared with really crossing the alps, as technical climbing of sidewalk along north face of Uxbridge Road – for all the effort troupe seen putting into it. Inoffensive but unmemorable was this setting of Wordsworth.

This program, that opened with the original, then discarded second movement of Mahler’s First Symphony, called Blumine (recorded by Ormandy, Ivan Fischer, Mehta, Frank Brieff before, as part of the First), featured as companion to the Fourth - with Franz Schubert’s ‘Einsamkeit’, D. 620, as orchestrated by Henze protégé Detlev Glanert.

The sweet naivete of Blumine made it an ideal opener. Markus Stenz and strings of the Halle made febrile rustle of the breeze that, so facile, ushers in the bel canto melody, that principal trumpet of the Halle sang forth with tartly sweet ardor. What dark currents occur in the middle section of this were well pointed - also well pointed how short-lived they are, with gentle push forward into Neapolitan for relative minor key and then subtonic to the C Major Blumine is in - to reprise main idea in B-Flat Major. After colorfully moving through tertiary related key areas to full blossoming out in C Major, all here just wafted by with fine ease in ascending light, violins to most exquisite close.

‘Einsamkeit’ (“Solitude’) is set to poetry - philosophical testament - by Johan Mayrhofer, bosom buddy of Franz Schubert at the time - Schubert just barely out of his teens. The model of Beethoven’s unusually successful An die ferne Geliebte came to Schubert’s mind – toward his putting together probably his first song cycle - slightly longer than the Beethoven. Each of the six strophes making up this poem – each paired with antistrophe – begins with a heartfelt request, ultimately taken together covering some, figuratively speaking, of what is called the Seven Stages of Man – according to insightful liner notes by Graham Johnson (in Hyperion’s Schubert edition).

Two facts remain for introducing this piece. First of all, one title in ‘Winterreise’ coincides with the name of this song; similarity between that simple piece and this ends there. Paradoxically, this is not quite the best poetry that Schubert ever set to music. Reading it without the mostly inspired music to which it is set can strike one as pedantic, even quite naïve, clichéd. Beethoven, Johnson explains, conformed in what text he chose to more conservative among contemporary tastes than did Schubert in picking Mayrhofer.

Detlev Glanert has settled for pastel colors, smooth contours - more than likely he should have – in orchestrating the Schubert. Otherwise, this is successful work and here got played very well. Mellow lower winds introduce opening scene in an abbey, where we may more conventionally expect brass to more hieratic effect, with narrator, soprano Carolyn Sampson in this instance, pensively reveling in the solitude of abbey life (likely during which Schubert met Mayrhofer). Sampson came across here shade or two too light for singing this, but largely made up for any lack for the covered tone with which she expressed over chromatic harmony the first episode’s pensive thought – verging on deep melancholy. Stenz most effectively underlined trumpets cutting through strings to catch very well the restiveness to characterize the first antistrophe – cause for anxiety the idea of breaking free from abbey life.

Schubert expresses the quest to be active in life and then past another antistrophe to be among mix of good company by most Biedermeier means, so that Glanert is mostly free of fault for not coming up with the most imaginative solution to these two brief strophes, except for, in scoring, missing the hollow tone of repetitiveness and of the text itself toward end of the latter. The antistrophe in-between follows a hearty, naïve march in the winds to take us through moment of pensive daydreaming out to rural landscape, with it audible shepherd’s horn softly replaced by trumpets and flutes within perfectly bucolic air - Sampson’s voice filling things out so well. The yearning Sampson conveyed during third antistrophe, in E-Flat Minor, was most affecting.

Following a romanza (fourth strophe) with Sampson finding ideal bliss to fill out Schubert’s underlining of ‘Liebe’ and seligkeit’, Glanert most effectively has scored, with arch detachment probably the least effective passage of this piece – fourth antristrophe with its thinly inspired bellicose accents. Firm slow cortege on marked dotted rhythms for what followed got very close to as effectively scored. From Sampson for next strophe, while picking up pace of the dotted rhythms, one missed the firmness expected from a deeper voice, toward making felt the stark antiwar protest of the lyrics here. All peacefully opened out with guileless ardor into great contentment found at last in solitude, nature all about - with Glanert having strings undulate the least intrusive lilting barcarolle rhythm which Schubert has had accompany the narrator’s final lines.

Carolyn Sampson was less than perfectly ideal in sustaining legato for such a passage, but feeling for the text, emotional purity and quest for finding as much tonal variety as is feasible all worked to her advantage. She is hardly more at fault to attempt this than Robert Holl or Nathan Berg who take the entire song a third down, and are each mildly too heavy for it, while she has settled for ‘Einsamkeit’s original key.. Stenz here made a consistently most sensitive accompanist, catching so well the willfully shifting moods of this piece, understatedly scored by Detlev Glanert.

Stenz, after interval, then proceeded to make close to a true bucolic romp out of first movement of the Mahler Fourth Symphony, still stopping short of making something two-dimensional or shallow out of this – as for instance did Abbado for DGG thirty years ago. Tempo choices for playing the introduction and reprise thereof were inconsistent here, willfully so, but all working within a context where, as Stenz hears it, everything can sound forth spontaneous and free. One should not more than lightly begrudge Stenz for taking such open liberties. All parody, pomposity, latter including that of the French horn in way he randy-toned went about the quote from Beethoven’s Fourth Piano Concerto in the coda, got underlined here with wonderful fervor and intensity - always stopping short of getting self-conscious or excessively breaking line. Harsh muted trumpet, mixed with percussion and flute sonorities rang out in full relief, especially during the Development. Toss-off of music to trail off from quote of upcoming Fifth Symphony opening ideally made the sublimely ephemeral thereof, with slow lilt into recapitulation mid-phrase to follow. The subito piu mosso off the sleigh bells to open the first movement was hardly at all excessive. Parody in underlining Haydn-esque closing theme with hard bumps forward where called for was ideal.

One had throughout the first movement the feeling of musicians being highly well prepared and at once thoroughly, unabashedly enjoying themselves, so simply bringing out this music’s rough edges. Stenz’s interpretation has reminded me here somewhat of Jonathan Nott’s with Bamberg at the Proms several years back – arguable whether more ideally or not - in more of a Romantic filled out sense - yet without shirking any of this music’s frequent asperity or harsh dissonances. Such held true in the macabre scherzo, with sting on high F in G Minor in violins most searing in its main section. Only the ‘ohne hast’ that Mahler marked for the scherzo seemed to get put aside. The most Vienniese lilt otherwise characterized Stenz’s manner, with Lynn Fletcher’s playing demonic fiddle with good arch tone.

Incisively placed muted trumpet staccato arpeggios in reprise of the main section of this contrasted with the lazy gait Stenz gave reprise of the simple laendler trio section that opens out from F Major to, understated by Stenz, idyllic episode in D Major with all deft grace possible. Stenz toward end of final reprise of main section only missed underlining French horn on brief solo to extent he should. Winds, though, explained the going bad of fairy tale only as apologetic for the consequences. Such made, without turning coy, for just the height of badness in confronted odd scenario here.

Schubertian restful poise was found to open ‘Ruhevoll’ - the ‘poco’ in Poco Adagio ideally well observed. Stenz, breathing the lines of this so naturally through Halle strings, eschewed making the utterly sublime out of opening the movement that to 101 strings level can in all truth become far too limned too early on, insipidly so, but not here. All was internalized to extent that one hardly could resent lack of there being much of a slowdown as marked for the first Minore episode in this double variations movement. As episode proceeded, Stenz gradually infused it with deep requisite yearning, expressive depth. Stenz, though seeming slightly restive in moving return to the Maggiore - Mahler only gradually having shifted the pace - beautifully made up for what only by some may be construed wrong by completely waiting for the zuruckhaltend (holding back) to be marked toward end of this episode to observe it. By some standards such strict observation was most unusual; it also proved so refreshing.

Oboe starkly opening second Minor episode in Phyrgian mode G Minor prefigured impassioned outcry in strings in tritone-related C-Sharp Minor with something veering toward Italianate fervor in handing such out so openly.. Stenz then eschewed making too exaggerated - back in Maggiore - the speed-ups to follow, content with pointing the humor of doing so with plentiful detail for point to fully get across. Again, very refreshingly, Mantovani failed to make it through rear or stage door for reprise of Poco adagio, coming upon the grandiose pomposity that follows to ‘open gates of Paradise’, sense of which Stenz clearly on purpose maintained as still seeming at a distance. He most unusually brought out conspicuously an open non-harmonized third/fifth on D (with only fourth below in harps to give it so hollow support) in muted horns, chimed with hollow tone right before bombast to ensue.

In sonorities to follow ‘gates of paradise’ only expressing longing or desire to completely dissolve into the blue, allusion found before to 1950’s dance hall pop very refreshingly did not emerge here. If any moment in Mahler has perhaps resembled something Lawrence Welk so often, this one has. Stenz, with his background in Second Vienna School through Rihm, Stockhausen, Henze, will not allow it.

With that consideration in mind, the ‘himmlische Leben’ finale opened with unforced ease - good pointing of laendler throughout with hard accents on off-beats for touch of roughness or contaminazione made intact. Pace moved breezily forward - without pushing too hard ahead - until final stanza in E Major. Acrid however were the pushed loud ritornelli based upon sleigh bells from opening movement, as Stenz pointed them. Carolyn Sampson found herself vocally on home turf here for sure, keeping innocence of this vision completely with the words themselves, thus refraining from making coy her lines or vocal color. Her voice then filled out for relaxed gait with which Stenz took the final and most sublime stanza that again so warmly brought this symphony to a close.

Here was a Fourth fully attuned to the ‘Wunderhorn’ of Mahler’s early adulthood, with bucolic element infusing it never put away for more sublime heights to be achieved here or anywhere. Accents of what is to follow in Mahler, in his later symphonies, in clearly but gently progressive manner, got fully observed and as unashamed of their dissonances - without having to skewer ensemble balances to get them. By contrast to that was the fully song-like ardor Stenz lent the second theme of the first movement and stark, ebullient lift he gave the jugglers-in-the-temple marcia idea – announced boldly on solo flute early during the Development.

The Halle Orchestra returned in this series with the Eighth and Ninth Symphonies conducted by their music director Mark Elder. During its Barbirolli days, the Halle would most frequently get deduced, perhaps accurately so as being third tier or lower rung second tier. Barbirolli would be taken aback by the stark relief and flexible manner of phrasing Mahler Stenz has availed himself of here. Barbirolli openly shirked music expressing modernism to exceed either that of Schoenberg’s Pelleas, Delius, or Malcolm Arnold. Other than some weakness in the double basses, the Halle is under such men as Elder, Stenz, and Nagano before, an ensemble today most assured, including in twentieth century and progressive repertoire. It now ranks out near front of the line among plethora of second-tier orchestras islands and continent wide.

BBC - Halle Orchestra: Mahler Second in fine, driven account by Markus Stenz - 10.02.10

The Mahler Second Symphony, closing with the Klopstock ode, Auferstehung (‘Resurrection’), to which Mahler added a few verses of his own, is likely - before embarking on the Sixth, especially for its great finale, the most progressive and challenging Mahler wrote, It also aspires for lofty aesthetic heights and elicits the most striving, dramatically and musically, to make them as anything he ever wrote.

What often gets missed is what elucidates the most naked progressivism possible for those who can see or hear it. The Second lays out its structure in such a way to challenge all odds. It also most frequently gets partly overlooked because of so much overlay of theatricality for what Mahler is surmised to graphically depict in its finale. Numerous interpreters of the Second, including even some famous names, appear not foolhardy enough to avoid temptation of leaving things just at that, most notably Leonard Bernstein, at least on both of his first two recordings, for CBS, hardly less the one he recorded in London than the previous.

Mahler, for one, never subtitled the symphony ‘Auferstehung.’ On the other hand, he had not developed the contrapuntal mastery that later one hears hinted at in the Fourth, and is still being developed past what is so well mostly academically achieved with the Fifth. It had become fully integrated into his compositional processes when he got around to the Sixth. Forget the Sixth’s deceptively starting out along conservative lines formally; the sprawling ‘sonata quasi una fantasia’ finale does not take any hostages.

Among Mahler interpreters today, someone with experience in some of the most progressive of twentieth century music – Henze, Stockhuausen, Rihm – should be most adept to conquer the Mahler Second Symphony. Markus Stenz’s recording of this with the Melbourne SO has received accolades in some quarters as its greatest recording nobody has ever heard. It has never in any format been available over here.

One of probably only a handful of disappointing movements in the very fine Gielen Mahler cycle (Hannsler) is probably the finale to the Second, for perhaps mildly excessively the academic approach - not quite catching quite this music’s full scope. One often settles from the podium of leaving interpretation just to depict events the music supposedly describes, even graphically so, and letting with (mostly) clear beat everything else take care of itself. Many people have left concert halls the world over much satisfied with performances that end up so, and yet there has to be a feeling of something too superficially achieved, such as for instance on at least Bernstein's first two recordings. Problem with making theatricality out of the finale, such as also did Solti is that Mahler introduces a tension within having an existentialist grasp of what was before him. He expresses such by a certain internal fragmentation in how he builds structure to most emphatically the finale to the Second; in doing so he broke new paths – more so than in the Third Symphony to follow. Johannes Brahms, upon only having heard the first three movements of the Second, correctly indicated Mahler ‘composer of the future,’ with so many around proclaiming it Richard Strauss.

Markus Stenz is, along with Nott and Metzmacher, a conductor to watch very closely today, including in his progress at conducting Mahler, after very striking impression he made at the Proms with the Gurzenich Koln on the Mahler Fifth in 2008. I enjoyed very much listening to his new disc of it with them this past week. He prudently understated here with the Second that he had at all in mind a more expansive Romantic approach or really, latent, in fact somewhat of a hybrid with such for just about all of this up until its finale. With measure of intellect Stenz has, this proved curious.

The revised ‘Totenfeier’, first movement of the Second, opened with stark realism and forthright rhythm and structural sense, holding forth great promise for what might follow. Even tremoli in the strings, occasionally heard as being still a little thin with the Halle, helped sustain tension, pulsation, and line very effectively here. Nodal points, numerous in the first movement, all received very astute placement, making full dramatic effect out of each without having to bloat Mahler’s textures or put on any grand display Halle’s resources. An at once gritty, old-world quality in sound especially on brass sonorities assisted toward their finding all internal dissonances thus so very well, Stenz achieved more with in effect less. Stenz also attended to diffusing space for textures to open out to full extent for especially lyrical pages – second theme suffused with transfigural light each time - each time individually in context of both what was to come before and follow.

Contributions from Halle brass varied from cutting incisiveness to muted, deep accents from lower reaches - very warm French horns in-between. At a few points, Stenz excitingly, even perhaps excitably made something a bit fractious, through brilliant agitato string writing, but with all clear goal in mind very well attained, keeping paramount the highest priority of dramatic clarity and firm structural sense. He drew out of this music its deep funereal colors and contrasting sublime light that still shines through, even at times slightly during some of the darkest passages of the first movement. Muffled accents on timpani down low right before momentary E-Flat Minor reprise of start to the first movement, following perfect Wunderhorn mirth through light procession in the woodwinds was moment rapt, rife with musical and dramatic tension, succinctly achieved. Pointing of the ‘Weh’ motif in the first two movements, in always being placed so beautifully and poignantly, was always spot-on - also to anchor disparate contrasting strands of development especially in the first movement.

Placing violins very far back for long last arch to the musical line in the first movement during the coda showed a penchant also for some risk-taking with this music. Stenz pulled such off with solid vigor. One welcomes Stenz perhaps taking on a little more of an urgent pace with this music, for still more acute sense of what this music is about without making any diminution of it - doing so possibly risk in and of itself. For what he had before him here, he chose tempo for this most sensibly, toward getting everything he asked for here quite definitively so.

Slightly heavy accent underneath combined with gentle lilt above, and simplicity in picking up the music’s rustic accents in-between definitively characterized the Andante moderato– within context of always comfortably forward moving pace. Stenz always closely observed proportions between contrasting Maggiore and Minore sections with very flexible, blossoming gemutlich, melos infused shaping of violin section descant and cello section obbligato lines for the former, yilelding nothing to excess or bathos. For first trio, Stenz prudently placed entering high violin triplets behind repeat eighth-note E-flats on solo horn, toward making both arch and fully satisfying profile of the main theme for both Minore sections. Contrasting with such astute formal sense was the gentle air of nostalgia he had waft through so many lyrical accents this music picks up - including in making long transition out of especially second trio (‘Minore’) into closing A section.

The third movement, while still being good, revealed at several critical junctures that Stenz could not prove quite entirely foolhardy in getting past a few unscathed. He made very prickly the pointing of the Wunderhorn theme – ‘St. Anthony preaches to the fishes’ – such moment of clipping best to overlook because Stenz effectively made it enhance characterizing this music so well. He wisely understated the often thwack upbeat to open this scherzo, to make complete sense of the rocking lilt serving violin line obbligato that at first plays here simply as introduction to the theme. Clarinet arpeggio in odd intervals could have used both a little more pointing and a little stronger underpinning, but capture of lilt into the first simple trio section was most engaging. Strong digging in on cellos and basses for starting the second trio section was distinctive at first; the second time it occurred it did so disproportionately with Stenz having undercut, clipped endings to ‘paradise gone bad’ middle section he had so beautifully introduced in a translucent E Major with fully voiced trio of trumpets. Anticipatory frolic, pomp to it was excellent.

What space Stenz can allow such moments, that here tend to end with too rapid descending run back into main theme - what pointed rubato, dissonance expanding allargando he can give these will provide solution to common error here. Stenz ultimately made full relish of the very open peasant frolic of this and of this music’s contrasting macabre elements and capture of Elysium as well.

‘Urlicht’, sung lyrically with intimate feeling by mezzo Katerina Karneus, but with Stenz reining in his forces a bit far back behind the vocal line, came across most effectively. Karneus lightly pointed out the angst, ardor, Wunderhorn naivete, and sense of what to grope for as profound through the highly expressive text with fine evenness of line. Orchestral principals characterized their solos with abundant sensitivity and profile, fully supportive of Ms. Karneus.

The monumental finale to this symphony, while not receiving a bad rendition, proved a bit of a letdown after expectations Stenz had raised already. Ferocity and exultation through respectively the most agitated and affirmative passages of the finale were not undercut, except for some of what lies beneath them and between so many multifaceted episodes upon which the finale to the Mahler Second is built. This is true within reckoning this music in the best possible way as designed from modus operandi or impetus that puts, as broadly interpreted, orthodox Roman Catholic faith to doubt – as much as quite differently does the Universalist text of both Klopstock and Mahler. One can even posit that there is within the finale of the Second Symphony, without the cumulative contrapuntal mastery that informs so much of the Sixth what ultimately made it then a very real possibility – not near just so much indicated by change at third from major to minor mode - originating from the ‘Weh’ in ‘Klagende Lied.’ Aspects of the design of the Second are deceptively simple. Mahler was not yet the full craftsman he was to become less than ten years later.

After curiously understated opening to the finale, Stenz held on very well through all the mystery to follow, finding very fine placement of the differing, contrasting voices from afar. Once into louder tutti sections, leading into suggestion of a development section for this finale - while on purpose ultimately being unsatisfactory as such - Stenz lost somewhat the focus he had maintained so well before. One is so used to opening segue into this expanding out, even almost ad infinitum at times, so much that one has to be really thinking ahead of what consequences might be of doing so even halfway. The broad brush digging in by strings for trumpet led marcia (marked Kraftig) is another. Stenz proved himself undaunted in handling complex textures through all the first extended loud tutti, making them all acutely clear, even including what is often inaudible; oxymoron for Stenz, broad sense of structure thereof – fragmentation built therein there to so emphasize that this is from which the most violent struggle arises – replaced such specific indication of what is quintessential here. Only by measuring Stenz’s efforts by the highest possible standards, did things go awry. Acutely, such occurred a minute after ‘false recapitulatory start in F Minor (approached from subdominant - B-Flat Minor), with closing very long descent thereof on diminished chord having proven flaccid here.

Past a slightly enervated, unstable, but still well characterized sequence of episodes - thanks again to consistently fine work from numerous Halle principals - starting with 'agitato' introduced on ‘Weh’ by doleful trombone, the Halle Choir entered well. Slightly gummy attack apart at first, Halle Choir’s keen attention to excellent balances and to expressive meaning of their text restored confidence for all involved. For being placed slightly forward, Susan Gritton had discerning ear to place tone slightly back to achieve right degree of mystery to her opening solos; she then joined Katerina Karneus for duet of freely open expressive ardor, helping bulld toward exultant conclusion to overall a fine account of the Second Symphony.

Stenz, for most concluding episodes, relocated his very fine grasp of formal objectivity that had, in conducting this had intermittently evaded him earlier. One should look forward to encountering him doing a work again soon which he has given much care and attention - and then of course with more in place than even now.