Royal Albert Hall
Mahler - Symphony no.3
Gerhild Romberger
(mezzo-soprano)
Leipzig Gewandhaus Children’s
Choir (chorus master: Frank-Steffen Elster)Ladies of the Leipzig Gewandhaus Choir (chorus master: Gregor Meyer)
Ladies of the Leipzig Opera Chorus (chorus master: Alessandro Zuppardo)
Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra
Alan Gilbert (conductor)
It would be unfair, but one
could summarise this concert with the words, ‘Senator, you’re no Leonard
Bernstein.’ Unfair, because it would ignore the excellence of the playing and
singing from the combined forces of Gerhild Romberger, the Leipzig Gewandhaus
Children’s Choir, the ladies of both the Leipzig Gewandhaus Choir and the
Leipzig Opera Chorus, and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra; but not because it
would seriously misrepresent my impressions of Alan Gilbert’s conducting, nor
indeed of his remarks in a programme interview. Mahler withstands, indeed
rejoices in, a good number of interpretative options, and one should always be
one’s guard, lest one reject, Beckmesser-like, something new, simply because it
is something new. However, that does not mean that anything goes. The Achilles
heel of Gilbert’s performance throughout was his lack of structural understanding,
or at least his inability to communicate such understanding in performance. He
seemed, indeed, to have taken Bernstein at his word – as opposed to following
Bernstein’s excellent practice as a conductor – in the claim cited in that
interview: ‘I heard Leonard Bernstein … rehearsing it once and he said: “You
know what? Finally, after all these years, I’ve found the answer to this piece.
It’s like a nightmare of marches. You shouldn’t try to connect them but just
live in the moment.’ Perhaps you can do that once you have internalised the
piece sufficiently, but, lack of score notwithstanding, Gilbert’s understanding
seemed only superficial. As for his bizarre claim in that interview that there
was no Viennese tradition of performing Mahler prior to Bernstein...
The first movement, then,
sounded rather like Gilbert heard Bernstein described it, save for the fact
that it was not very nightmarish. The Gewandhaus Orchestra played with greatly
impressive attack, but seemed encouraged to sound brasher than usual, almost as
if it were being asked to ape Gilbert’s – or Bernstein’s – New York
Philharmonic. What was entirely lacking here was the formal inevitability – form
should be understood in dynamic, not static, terms – one hears or has heard
from conductors as different as Abbado,
Boulez,
Haitink, Horenstein, or indeed Bernstein. (I could have done without the Big Bird-style
conducting gestures too; at one stage, I thought Gilbert was about to launch
into flight. O for the elegance, the economy of the first three named of
alternative conductors!) At least there was, for much of the movement, a strong
sense of rhythm, even if its connection with harmony appeared to elude the
conductor. That dissipated, however, with some unconvincing rubato and tempo
changes later on, signalling instability in very much the wrong sense.
Doubtless this will all be lauded as ‘exciting’ in some quarters, but without
structural command, the excellence of the orchestral playing could not make a
symphony out of what sounded more akin to a very lengthy suite. The rush to the
finish, however, well executed by the players, was straightforwardly vulgar –
as opposed to harnessing apparent vulgarity to higher ends.
The second movement strayed
closer still to Simon
Rattle territory (or rather recent Rattle territory). Necessary lilt soon became
unduly moulded, variations in tempo excessive. Some material was taken very
fast indeed, to the extent that it sounded almost balletic. Mahler as Delibes?
A point of view, I suppose, but that is the best that can be said. The third
movement veered weirdly between such ‘balletic’ tendencies and imitation
Bernstein ‘house of horrors’, which would have been better left for the Seventh
Symphony. The problem, really, was that they arose from nowhere, and that the
whole movement was more than a little rushed. At least the post-horn solos were
played beautifully – as indeed was everything else.
Gerhild Romberger gave an
excellent rendition of ‘O Mensch!’ though she sounded very much a mezzo rather
than a contralto. Hers was nevertheless a performance of compelling honesty, in
which words and music amounted to considerably more than the sum of their
parts. Gilbert’s conception, though restrained, I think, in the light of the
soloist’s presence, seemed unduly ‘operatic’, missing the essential simplicity,
however artful in reality, of this song. The fifth movement opened with as much
coughing and shuffling as singing but, once that audience contribution was out
of the way, the excellence of singing and playing alike could register. (That
said, Romberger’s diction was noticeably less good here.) It was taken quickly,
but at least it was not unduly pulled around.
Finally, the great Adagio - well, strictly speaking, Langsam - which came off surprisingly
well. At least some of the time, it appeared to speak ‘for itself’. The Leipzig
strings were wonderfully warm in tone, with the necessary depth to let Mahler’s
harmony tell. Although it was not always as rhythmically solid as it might have
been, the performance was a definite improvement upon most of what had gone
before. And the sound of this great orchestra remained a wonder in itself.
