Mahler: Symphony No. 7
L’Orchestre National de Lille (ONL) performed its first concert in 1976 under the baton of Jean-Claude Casadesus, who retired as music director in 2016. Since then, French conductor Alexandre Bloch has taken the reins. Bloch’s career is impressive; he is principal guest conductor for the Düsseldorfer Symphoniker (2015) and winner of the LSO Donatella Flick Conducting Competition (2012). Bloch has recorded 3 albums with the ONL, all for Alpha Classics: works by Ravel, Chausson and the recording reviewed here, Mahler Symphony No. 7 (2020). The ONL was also shortlisted for the Gramophone Classical Music Awards ‘Orchestra of the Year’ in 2020. A good pairing to take on a highly complicated symphony.
Mahler’s Seventh: The enigmatic symphony.
It’s been only a few years since I started listening to Mahler, although it does feel much longer. My first experience was the First Symphony under the direction of Leonard Bernstein with the New York Philharmonic. I was confused about what I was listening to, those first notes of expanding, sustained high As. Nature sounds from a symphony I hadn’t heard before—a clarinet cuckoo call, a free fall of dangerous notes. It was an amazing moment. By the third movement, I was completely hypnotized—this is the ‘Mahler Effect’.
The compositions of Mahler are emotion in pure form. This is not lost on conductor Bloch, who clearly understands the composer when he states ‘Mahler is the king of emotion’ (Gramophone podcast, 2020).
Mahler’s sound is an exploration into his psychology. This is one of the many reasons he resonates with our emotional experience. His music is discourse of life, death, love, loss, fear, nature and existential questions. One can (and many have) study his compositions, his wonderful orchestration, his move into atonal themes, but, quite simply, you cannot separate the man’s inner world from his musical work.
Mahler in 1903 at the Vienna Sate Opera, 2 years before composing his 7th Symphony.
Perhaps the most mysterious and elusive of Mahler symphonies, the Seventh, is also known for being one of the least recorded and played. Known as ‘Symphony of the Night’ the Seventh, is ‘stuck’ in the middle of two larger than life symphonies. The Sixth is an experience of the tragic, of sorrow and existential angst. While the eighth, called ‘Symphony of a Thousand’, is immense, filled with voices and spirituality. The Seventh searches for its identity in the ‘night’, or through a walk in the night, a stroll into the dark, with its strange sounds and nightmarish quality.
The symphony has puzzled many who have tried to understand it. Mahler conducted and premiered it in Prague in September 1908. It took several decades until we had at a recording. That fell to Hermann Scherchen and the Vienna Symphony Orchestra, a live recording in June 1950. The first studio recording was also by Scherchen in 1953 with the Vienna Staatsoper Orchestra (both live and studio performances are available on Tidal Hifi, Qobuz and/or YouTube Music—Ed).
The remarkable work takes time to explore, experience and appreciate as a unified symphony. The five movements were composed separately. The second and fourth called ‘Nachtmusik I’ and 'Nachtmusik II’ were written in 1904. The other three movements were completed in 1905. For many, the middle movements are coherent, beautiful, and enigmatic. The outer movements, however, present us with a night and day situation. The first movement sets the scene of a funeral march, includes a famous and important tenor horn solo (‘größer Ton!’, or ‘loud tone’ with an exclamation mark, as directed by Mahler, yet only marked forte), with rich textures developing, minor to major shifts and challenging tempos and dynamics. The fifth movement exposes a grand, over the top festival of fireworks and destabilizing structures. As if Mahler was making a statement saying farewell to tonality, to his beloved Romantic style. Perhaps this is why the Seventh made such an impression on Schoenberg who wrote to Mahler ‘I am now really wholly yours’ (after listening to the Vienna premiere in 1909).
L'Orchestre National de Lille
The recording & performance
‘Langsam: Allegro con fuoco’.
At the beginning, we hear a sound of solitude expanding: (ominous and pp string tremolos with equally quiet bass drum trills) just before the entry of the tenor horn. By the second minute, the march has arrived (at a pleasant tempo by Bloch), then slows down for a French horn that laments. Woodwinds against strings come alive, a frenzy in the brass erupts. There is a great balance here by Bloch and the orchestra. The back and forth is setting the atmosphere as a march turns into a weird dance. So many ups-and-downs in this movement, shifting tempo makes for a rollercoaster ride. A conductor can easily lose direction. Let us not forget the experience should be a journey. Bloch is very straight forward in his approach of the first movement; there’s no rush and he builds on these opening minutes. Later, listen at the ten-minute mark: he calmly slows the tempo and the solo instruments are clearly heard.
Just before the twelve-minute mark a harp delivers a soothing moment, it repeats itself and the orchestra follows the sound into the dark. The tenor horn appears again telling a personal story of loss. The cries of the strings answer the solo lament of the horn. Again, the march, full orchestra in conversation begins minute sixteen. This is done wonderfully by Bloch and orchestra, the music continues gleefully, a big band marching down a Bohemian street. As Anna Stoll-Knecht (2019) writes of this movement: ‘The gesture of the first movement is globally ascending, even if the shadow of tragedy is lurking here and there, reinforced by motivic allusions to the Finale of the Sixth’.
‘Nachtmusik I: Allegro moderato’
The solitude of the night arrives with a fiendishly difficult (in terms of tone control) interplay between 1st (open) and 3rd (muted) horns. Woodwinds play, not leaving the cellos behind. The dream presentation of the symphony begins with a swirling feeling of wonder by minute three. Bloch is content in letting the instruments shine on their own. At moments, this leads to a beautiful sound of cohesiveness when they come together in gloomy night sounds surrounded by cowbells (Mahler said they were a ‘distant murmur of life on earth’). Some new, brighter color at minute seven is established, the first glimmer of light in the symphony. A marching melody at the eight-minute, right at the middle of the movement allows us to feel at home, some assuredness that we are still safe. Bloch takes command of this movement acknowledging needed balance in the strings, critical for the mood. At minute twelve, cowbells remind us the nature of repetition in dreams. Bloch and the ONL move through this movement with no deliberate distractions of volume or tempo, the feelings clear, a dream-like narrative that has many pictures, curiosity and imagination.
‘Scherzo’
Maybe my favorite Mahler movement so I tend to be extra-picky here. Sometimes I go straight to this movement in recordings of the Seventh. There’s something special in this waltz of death movement, creepy to say the least, but magical and addictive, too. The ONL string section sounds like it made a deal with the devil. Some conductors mastered this movement, Bernstein, Abbado, Scherchen and Kondrashin, to name a few.
Bloch and the ONL do a wonderful job. The glissandos are not overblown or too loud (this happens often). You’re always on the edge of your seat with a nicely played Seventh ‘Scherzo—sometimes scary, but always interesting. The strings sound clean and the woodwinds follow their lead. The anxiety that Bloch draws here is tolerable, unlike Chailly and Rattle that terrify you (in a good way). Bloch doesn’t go for the jugular, which is fine. Possibly, he didn’t want to create too much chaos. As such, the orchestra plays it safe, but nonetheless beautifully.
‘Nachtmusik II: Andante amoroso’
The two ‘Nachtmusik’ movements may have been created together, but they are certainly not similar. The second has a hypnotic feel and, above all, is chamber-like. This is a more personal movement. Bloch and the ONL are content in letting the playfulness come through. There is, however, a continuous tension in the movement, a withdrawn feeling. It has a constant contrast of colors, layers of conflicting sounds, which turn back and forth between strings and woodwinds. Mandolin (Flavien Soyer) and guitar (Gregory Morello) represent a singular voice, a fear of subjectivity lost in the middle of an orchestra. In fact, this movement delivers such a different emotional sound, you start to miss the full brass section (only the horns play in this movement). You feel more alone in the world, solitude is there to settle into with an appreciation of each instrument, a serenade in the night sky. Bloch and the ONL don’t disguise this solitude; the mandolin gives you hope, but Bloch and the orchestra reminds you there is the Finale ahead where you surrender the night and dream state.
‘Rondo: Finale’
The ‘Rondo’ begins brilliantly with no room for superstition or worry: blazing brass, brilliant strings, we are awakened to a new emotional state. The circus-like quality of this movement has made it the target of much criticism. Bloch and orchestra don’t sound intimidated by this (in)famous movement. Loudness appears to be an ONL specialty, and you can hear it! Straight, direct, a very Mahler-like sound (intense, without hesitation, always surprising).
In the beginning one does not find this movement fun or calming, it’s too strange, even bizarre and we are not able to get a grip on these relentless sounds. There’s so much curiosity in this movement especially during the final moments. Bloch and the orchestra decide to make this movement their own. Bloch emphasizes volume and fast tempo; you can’t look away. This is a very different and alive sounding ‘Rondo’, enjoyable, fun and cheerful. It’s simply the best movement on the recording. Bloch lets it shine and expand where it needs to and lowers volume and intensity at precise moments for it not to be a rude awakening.
The cowbells now reappear as a message of the world as you knew it, not a fearful, nostalgic memory, but placed in the end to remind you the dream has ended, you are back home. The night is gone, morning’s here. By the end of the movement, you are stomping your feet, conducting Mahler yourself! A stunning finish to this masterpiece. One welcomes it with Bloch and the ONL.
Final Observations
Mahler’s 10 symphonies are always intense, emotionally draining, complex and have a story to tell. However, the Seventh is unique. It involves a non-human quality. The first movement embarks on a voyage. The guardian of your own mind leaves you. A march of consciousness that slowly turns into something extraordinary—you are beginning to leave reason behind. The dream-like quality of the middle movements is perceived as not of this world. It all happens in the sound of the night. Perhaps a brief moment of freedom, of letting go. Being taken over by the Unconscious (Freud), or Will (Schopenhauer) or your primitive self. Whatever you may call it, rationality slips away. Could this be the reason the final movement is so loud, detached and, frankly, weird? As if coming back from a long night’s dream? Is it your rational self telling you that you can wake up and face life safely? The cowbells letting you know (like Mahler said) you are back on Earth and everything is going to be as it always has been?
Highly recommended.
Release Date: 25th Sep 2020
Catalogue No: ALPHA592
Label: Alpha
Length: 74 minutes
