The Symphonies of Gustav Mahler—10 CDs · 8 conductors · 10 years of the Berliner Philharmoniker
When a new Gustav Mahler recording is released, I’ll spend several days listening, understanding it. As if in a trance, remembering previous interpretations, comparing directors, orchestras, but above all, exploring my emotional experiences. This is the effect Mahler has on many of us. My favorite composer, his compositions play daily in my home.
When the great Berliner Philharmoniker announced a new Mahler cycle was coming out on CD and download formats, with eight conductors, Blu-Ray videos, their beautiful box-set design, there was no doubt in my mind I was going to get my hands on it. More than any other composer, Mahler strikes an obsessional chord. His fans (the die hard ones call themselves Mahlerites) are well versed and passionate about everything Mahler. When this recording was announced, I imagine everyone was trying to figure out which recordings would make the set from so many to chose from. Just think of the Berliner’s history and their legendary conductors. Mahler himself premiered his Second with the orchestra in 1895. Thus, this was a major recording event.
Mahler is sort of an addiction for me, or as my wife says more like a disease. Gustav Mahler is constantly on my mind, my social media consists almost exclusively of pictures and recorded tracks from my vinyl recordings of him. I have books on Mahler, pictures, paintings of him; even books on Alma Mahler, some of his famous students like Bruno Walter, rare collectors programs and too many recordings (again, my wife’s words). His presence is constant. So, reviewing this cycle is a happy task for me. Below is my attempt to review a Mahler cycle and keep it coherent. Reviewing 10 Mahler symphonies is a complex task, so let’s begin.
Daniel Harding
Symphony No. 1
‘My dear friend, on Friday the 27th of this month I am conducting a concert in Hamburg in which a number of my own compositions will be performed (I am the only living conductor who is interested in my compositions) […] It would be a great pleasure to me if you would do me the honor of being present […] Very sincerely yours, Gustav Mahler’ Hamburg October 20th 1893, Gustav Mahler-Richard Strauss Correspondence 1888-1911 (Blaukopf H.).
One of the most often recorded and played, the First is a favorite among Mahler symphonies. I consider it to be the best introduction to Mahler’s oeuvre. The symphony’s first movement can either hypnotize you, with its beautiful long sustained notes and quick shifting colorful sounds, or engross you in an exquisite adventure of nature-images and wonder. On this recording in the set, conductor Daniel Harding goes for the latter.
A wonderful string section eliminates any sight of chaos with a rich texture. A very engaging and articulated interpretation. At the fourteen minute mark, closing the first movement, Harding awakens nature and establishes some hidden danger in it. This is not a scary, in the night through nature experience, instead, he achieves this with balance and control of the orchestra.
The third movement has always been one of my favorite Mahler compositions—it’s a movement that establishes the emotional balance of the symphony, a glimpse into his dark humour. In order for it to work, it needs to be at a brisk tempi. Harding’s tempi let this happen, slowly building the eerie elegance of this movement. Enjoy the Klezmer music melody beautifully done here. Harding clearly worked on clarity from the opening. Perhaps some will feel the pace is too slow, I’d say it works for what I gather Harding wants from a First: a moment of curiosity and suspense; what you want from a ‘Wunderhorn’ symphony.
If you need fireworks or complex tempi and dynamics in your Mahler First, this is not it. However, if you want transparency, beautiful sound, a heavenly string-section, separation of instruments for a chamber-feel sound (especially the first three movements), then you are in luck—Harding works his magic here.
Daniel Harding. Photo credit: Askonas Holt
Andris Nelsons
Symphony No. 2
Possibly my favourite Mahler symphony, there’s a connection to the Resurrection (its subtitle) almost immediately—its intensity, use of voices and the long path to a marvellous finale. I was very excited to listen to Andris Nelsons’ interpretation—I’ve been a fan of his Bruckner and Shostakovich conducting. Nelsons went for a very cautious first movement, I would even say a detached interpretation. The strings did not scream or frighten in those first minutes of the first movement. The cellos that should deliver a sense of paranoia, were tense at best in crucial moments.
The orchestra plays beautifully, they maintain their cohesiveness throughout. However, there’s so much restraint in the strings and slow tempi; what is needed is to push forward and these moments are lost. Following a slow first movement comes a timid ‘Andante’, a Ländler that as Deryck Cooke describes should be ‘A single long string melody […] rising at times to the ferocity of the funeral march, but returns to provide a tranquil ending’ (from Gustav Mahler An Introduction to his Music). No razor sharp intensity in the ‘Andante’.
Nelsons finally does inject some needed vigor, a nicely paced third movement with expressive dynamics that enter the scene. There’s a sense of coherence, a more detailed and open panoramic sound and the orchestra is able to breathe.
‘The fourth movement […] a setting of the Wunderhorn text Urlicht for alto and orchestra […] answers the questions raised in the Scherzo and leads to the Finale’, which is a symphonic cantata. The poem gives expression to the old longing for mystical union with God and represents as Mahler explains: ‘the questioning and agonized searching of the soul for God and for its own eternal existence’ (Gustav Mahler The Symphonies. Floros, C.). Lucy Crowe (soprano) and Gerhild Romberger (contralto), MDR-Rundfunkchor Leipzig are wonderful, giving gripping performances, especially Romberger, who engages you immediately. I would say while a timid ‘Resurrection’ may not be what you are accustomed to, you understand that Nelsons’ approach is one of detail and not of intensity or existential angst. I concede that while the dead will not arise in this one, there were some good moments.
Andris Nelsons. Photo credit: Deutsche Grammophon
Gustavo Dudamel
Symphony No. 3
Gustavo Dudamel, winner of the prestigious ‘Gustav Mahler’ Conducting Competition in Bamberg in 2004, has a long history with the Austrian composer. I’ve seen Dudamel conduct Mahler (the Eighth, with the LA Philharmonic in May 2019—read the Audiophilia review of this DG recording of the live performance here) and he does seem to have a special connection to the composer. Dudamel has impressive range having recorded several Mahler symphonies with different orchestras. He’s done the Third with the Simon Bolivar Youth Orchestra of Venezuela which I thoroughly enjoyed. This recording of the Third with the Berliner is from 2014.
The Third expresses themes of nature, from when ‘Pan awakes’ to what ‘Love tells me’, Mahler’s longest symphony shakes up our inner world with six movements. Dudamel has an interesting interpretation here; I’d describe his approach as surgical. A beautifully played Third, that comes alive in some moments, (fifth minute of the second movement, for example). However, when you listen to the this symphony, you expect there to be more moments of dread, death and hope, the Mahler trifecta.
I listened to a wonderful, almost pristine interpretation, the brass blasts, the basses and cellos howl, the violins shine. Yet, in tempos that lack contrast at times. There’s no emotional terror or scary moments in the first movements. Pan is tranquil in this interpretation.
‘With songs […] you can express so much more in the music than the words directly say. The text is actually a mere indication of the deeper significance to be extracted from it, of concealed treasure’, Mahler to Natalie Bauer-Lechner on the Wunderhorn poems from Recollections of Gustav Mahler, (Natalie Bauer-Lechner). I thoroughly enjoyed Gerhild Romberger's beautiful voice, and the Damen des Rundfunkschors Berlin choir complement the aesthetically pleasing part of this symphony. The final movement is by far the best; dynamics here are in full swing. Dudamel takes the reins of the orchestra and they follow willingly. The Berliner is a tour-de-force in this one.
Gustavo Dudamel. Photo credit: Deutsche Grammophon
Yannick Nézet-Séguin
Symphony No. 4
One might consider this the ‘lightest’ of Mahler’s symphonies. Mahler once said ‘I only wanted to write a symphonic Humoresque, and out of it, came a symphony of normal dimensions’. But it’s also one of the most difficult to present to the listener, exposing darkness next to a beautiful, mystical sound. Again, Mahler: ‘What I had in mind was extraordinarily difficult to bring off. Think of the undifferentiated blue of the sky, which is harder to capture than any changing and contrasting shades’ (Bauer-Lechner pp. 151). Conductors can easily fall into a romantic interpretation of this symphony because of its colourful sound. There are not many tragic moments in this one. If you wanted to take a friend to see a Mahler symphony and not scare them with existential questions of being, this would be the one.
The last of the Wunderhorn symphonies, wonder and beauty are fundamental in the Fourth. The last movement ‘Das himmlische Leben’ is some of the most beautiful music I’ve ever listened to. Montrealer Yannick Nézet-Séguin has experience with this symphony. He recorded it with his hometown band Orchestre Métropolitain in 2004. He recently performed the chamber version (Stein) with the Philadelphia Orchestra (2020). It’s important to emphasize this point from from The Cambridge Companion to Mahler (Revers, P.) ‘In his Fourth, Mahler anticipates a chamber-music conception of symphonic texture, this is particularly noticeable in the second movement, which according to the composer “was the only one to remind him stylistically of an earlier work of his”—the Scherzo of the Second. It offers new content in an old form’.
This symphony is Nézet-Séguin’s best Mahler I’ve heard and the Berliner is a great fit. I did not enjoy his previous Fourth (very slow tempi) but here there are passages in the first movement that sparkle in a way I had not heard before. Recorded in 2014, it still holds up with marvelous dynamics. No stone unturned in this interpretation, just wonderful conducting and playing. In the fourth movement ‘Das himmlische Leben’ soprano Christiane Karg’s angelic voice takes you where you need to go, a journey to heavenly joy, until the last ‘Das alles für Freuden erwacht’ let’s you rest.
Yannick Nézet-Séguin. Photo credit: WRTI
Gustavo Dudamel
Symphony No. 5
Mahler’s Fifth has a thunderous first movement. Hurwitz describes ‘It opens with a cliffhanger, a difficult solo for trumpet that must be played perfectly […] The tune has a long illustrious history, being a true Austrian military signal […] This is now familiar funeral march territory with rhythmic death figures on the trombones (derived from Verdi’s operas) and quiet bass drum thuds and tam-tam strokes’ (p. 81), from The Mahler Symphonies: An Owner’s Manual.
Here were have Gustavo Dudamel’s second appearance in this cycle. He knows the Fifth well—he recorded it in 2007 with the Simon Bolivar Youth Orchestra of Venezuela, a recording I love. The orchestra played with intensity and control with a sense of cohesion, an especially a joyous ‘Scherzo’ and beautiful ‘Adagietto’, perhaps my favorite of his.
This time around with the Berliner, from 2018, sounds fantastically loud! There’s an interesting YouTube video of Dudamel in rehearsal with the Philharmonia Orchestra from 2009 in which we can see his love for this symphony, describing to musicians the intensity and dynamics in Mahler. These indications actually helped me understand where Dudamel was going with this interpretation.
Dudamel does a dramatic opening Funeral March—it’s his forte. The brisk pace of the second movement makes it very enjoyable. In the long ‘Scherzo’, he lets the strings stretch their stuff, and, by minute thirteen, I found myself standing and conducting [one in bar, I hope—Ed]. The ‘Adagietto’ is at nine and a half minutes long, which is a little too long for me, but let’s not dismiss this performance because it is played amazingly by the orchestra. The final fifteen minute ‘Rondo’ is magical. He drives headlong into the finale and the themes from previous movements find a completed form here. Virtuoso passages fill this movement and the Berliner is up for the task. Dudamel seems very comfortable with this symphony. I am a believer in this one under Dudamel’s baton [photo of Gustavo Dudamel above].
Kirill Petrenko
Symphony No. 6
Berliner Philharmoniker Music Director Kirill Petrenko recently recorded a Seventh with the Bayerisches Staatsochester (2021), easily, one of the best Mahler albums this year. So, I was very excited to listen to his recording of the ‘Tragic Symphony’, recorded in 2020.
The first movement flows with ease in a good march tempo; the sails are up and we are moving. You can imagine an orchestra that sounds ready to begin a new voyage with their new director. His renowned musicality appears throughout this recording. The contrasting ‘Alma theme’ (1st mvt, 2nd subject) and later the cowbells sounding with a pastoral flare flow nicely at a distance. The brass section does not tower over the strings, creating a magnificent atmosphere.
Petrenko does the ‘Andante’ first, (I’m not going into the Scherzo/Andante rabbit hole of the debate), and it’s full of nature, hope and innocence. Echt Mahler. Petrenko’s journey in this movement is almost flawless, as if he and the orchestra are in complete agreement, not rushing for intensity or sentimentality. Petrenko is confident in his understanding of the composition and tosses you into a movement filled with a shuttering glimpse of light that comes from beautiful brass playing.
An issue with this masterpiece is that its intensity and tempo changes can cloud the overall feeling of solitude and anxiety. This itself requires full immersion and fidelity to the score. There was no moment I was distracted with Petrenko’s interpretation. To the contrary, my attention was glued to the shifting and contrasting sounds of pain and fear that are a must for almost all of Mahler’s symphonies. There are moments in this symphony you can picture Mahler evolving from the ‘Wunderhorn’ symphonies. The Scherzo’s sarcastic feel was well expressed and the Berliner brass accentuated bursts were done beautifully. It has been a long time since I listened to a more detailed Sixth.
Listen from minute fourteen of the first movement and you’ll understand how Petrenko establishes the way the symphony will develop: controlled with an expanding hovering sound of dread. Petrenko outdoes himself in the ‘Finale’. If the previous movements were marvellously interpreted, the last movement descends into madness. From the celesta and harp with dissonant chords in the beginning of the movement, the return of cowbells, to the two hammer blows at the end, Petrenko and the Berliner go all out. Petrenko (along with Abbado and Haitink), gives the best interpretation in this cycle.
Kirill Petrenko. Photo credit: Berliner Philharmoniker
Sir Simon Rattle
Symphony No. 7
One of the least recorded Mahler symphonies, the Seventh is a labyrinth of sound. Each of the movements can be difficult to hold together—it’s one of Mahler’s most difficult works to perform and interpret. When you listen to the Seventh, think ‘outer movements’ (the first and fifth), by this I mean that you have to be aware it is their responsibility to form a cohesive sound. The wisest of Mahlerians (Theodore Adorno, Donald Mitchell and Deryck Cooke) have criticized the work, especially the final movement. Stephen Hefling said the Seventh ‘refuses to behave like a Mahler Symphony’ (quoted from Stoll-Knecht book Mahler’s Seventh Symphony). For me, it’s one of most the original pieces of music Mahler wrote and can leave the listener dazed and confused.
Conductor of the Seventh in this set, Sir Simon Rattle, has a long history with Mahler. As recently as 2017, his box set from Warner Classics was released, the Fifth, Ninth and Tenth with the Berliner. He appears twice in this cycle, Seventh (recorded in 2016) and the Eighth.
Rattle is a Mahler veteran and delivers a brisk pace in the first movement. The tenor horn sounded wonderful, and the orchestra is under complete control. The superb pacing of this complicated child helped introduce the dark second movement, which should evoke a march that turns into a night walk.
Half-way into the ‘Nachtmusik I’, comes a transformation in the symphony; the feeling of night is here. The wind section leaps to dance with the strings and Rattle manages a beautiful sound here, necessary for the frightening ‘Scherzo’ to come. Perhaps my favorite Mahler movement, the ‘Scherzo’ is another one of those obsessive Mahler movements. If there ever was a music score for dreams, it would be this movement. However, Rattle continues with a more serious third movement. There was little suspense about this movement, though, played brilliantly by the Berliner. In ‘Nachtmusik II’ Rattle shows his contemplative vision, a lovely movement, solo instruments shining over one another, with guitar and mandolin engaging. It was my favourite movement of the recording. In the ‘Finale’, Rattle sets out for a clear and very well crafted return to reality, a safe journey through the maze of this complicated symphony.
Sir Simon Rattle. Photo credit: Berliner Philharmoniker
Sir Simon Rattle
Symphony No. 8
The I find the Eighth the toughest Mahler symphony to understand. If you are listening to the symphonies in order, there’s a clear disconnect from the creepy, out of this world Seventh and this one. You have to settle in and journey into the spiritual for the larger than life ‘Symphony of a Thousand’. There’s a sensory overload for me, listening to Latin, German, soloist, choirs, often at the same time. It can be a heavy task. Patience is key. However, it’s worth the investment, and reading about the structure, about the characters and story, and how Mahler’s idea of the spiritual and the humanist came together, enriches the experience.
Stephen Johnson wrote The Eighth, Mahler and the World in 1910, a brilliant book on this symphony. In the first page he mentions ‘The first seven symphonies were all, in their very different ways, acts of private confession, the unburdening of a hypersensitive soul, struggling to make sense of its own existence and of the thrilling and terrifying world in which it found itself. The Eighth would speak in different tones, and of a different kind of experience. It would be a bringer of joy’.
This recording is from 2011, the 100th anniversary year of Mahler’s death. I found Rattle’s interpretation riveting. Whereas in the Seventh, I thought he lacked chaos and excitement in some movements, he really brings it here. Taking on this colossal symphony, he lets the solo voices and chorus do their job. Rattle is as technically controlled as others in this symphony (Bernstein, Bertini, Solti, Thierry Fischer, Nagano). Nothing goes awry.
In the opening ‘Veni, Creator Spiritus’, I particularly found Imple superna gratia astounding. The solo part for orchestra, in Part II, was the Berliner’s moment; the slow pace and accented woodwind and string melodic lines were enchanting. Rattle previously recorded this symphony with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra in 2004, but this Berliner performance works better. There were exciting climaxes and the eight soloists Erika Sunnegårdh (Soprano), Susan Bullock (Soprano), Anna Prohaska (Soprano), Lilli Paasikivi (Soprano), Nathalie Stutzmann (Contralto), Johan Botha (Tenor), David Wilson-Johnson (Baritone), John Relyea (Baritone) and the MDR Rundfunkchor, all delivered amazing performances. [photo of Sir Simon Rattle above].
Bernard Haitink
Symphony No. 9
Bernard Haitink directed one of the first Mahler cycles I owned, with the Royal Concertgebouw. A great old and faithful Philips recording on vinyl. Haitink is one of my favorite Mahler directors. If there’s a mentor for Mahler conducting, it’s him. This performance is from 2017 and there’s a noticeable difference in this version versus his previous Ninth recordings. Haitink takes his time—he tries and succeeds in extending the sound of the Berliner from the beginning—a thirty-one minute first movement (four minutes longer than with the Bayerischen Rundfunks and with the Royal Concertgebouw). This will not work for some, but it does for me. Experience and full knowledge of the score brings out the full potential of perhaps Mahler’s greatest compositional movement.
The Berliner and its colorful sound make this symphony one of the best I’ve listened to, and one that Mahlerites have been waiting for.
This is an exhausting and dissonant sounding symphony and with Haitink taking the long road, (in the inner movements as well), the dissociative experience of this symphony should come with a ‘beware of haunting thoughts’ sign. The Ländler passages are so clear and atmospheric and without knowing it you’re connecting for the long haul. The Berliner delivers a panoramic sound with Mahler’s use of chromaticism.
The ‘Rondo Burleske’ arrives with some Baroque muscle flexing by Mahler. The ebb and flow of this movement, its peaks and contrapuntal themes brighten textures of the melodic lines. The final movement, the ‘Adagio’ of this magical symphony, is so dense I need to prepare myself every time I listen to it. A twenty-six minute tour-de-force from Haitink. Yes, it’s long, but it’s necessary, too. It echoes Wunderhorn passages. Could Haitink have been remembering his lifelong dedication to Mahler in this performance?
Strings build a formidable climax as darkness keeps still, you cannot look at death the same after listening to this movement. By minute eight, I start to lose it, tears abundantly flow. I contemplate what Mahler has created and what a superb orchestra and director are able to achieve: a vision of what experiencing dying is like. Subjectivity, transcendence, and the human condition are represented in this movement, perhaps more than in any other piece of music. Bernard Haitink, the master Mahler conductor.
Bernard Haitink. Photo credit: Berliner Philharmoniker
Claudio Abbado
Symphony No. 10 (Adagio)
Claudio Abbado is my favorite conductor. So, it’s fitting to have the ‘Adagio’ of the Tenth under his baton (Cooke’s version), performed in 2011. Abbado gave us so much of himself through Mahler with many orchestras. For decades he’s found a place at the top of Mahler interpreters. The first ‘Adagio’ I heard was Abbado’s with the Vienna Philharmonic and I remember clearly feeling the world was dissolving with those dissonant chords. This interpretation does not lack any of that sentiment. Abbado expresses not just the world ending (that would be the Ninth for me) but a world morphing into something not yet known to us. The strings can be sometimes over the top, too strong, visceral, scary, but this is a place where we haven’t yet explored, so it’s justified.
It’s twenty-five minutes of Mahler's last composition. I don’t feel the need to go into more detail. It’s Abbado, the Berliner, and Mahler. I’ll just say there’s no better dissociative or paralyzing sound more appropriate than the Tenth’s ‘Adagio’ for the year we all just endured.
Claudio Abbado conducting the Berliner Philharmoniker. Photo credit: Berliner Philharmoniker
Concluding remarks
Mahler lives and many contribute to this being the case. When the New York Philharmonic released 'The Mahler Broadcasts, 1948-82’ with ten conductors it was an important event. 1n 1920, when the Concertgebouw’s Willem Mengelberg programmed all of Mahler’s symphonies and song cycles over a span of two weeks, it was an important moment. Today, there are many Festivals that celebrate Mahler. In the United States, the Colorado Mahler Festival gathers annually since 1988 (they also record Mahler’s compositions played at the Festival). There’s a growing interest in Mahler, from new Festivals to many new recordings. I think this is fantastic. I sometimes encounter Mahlerites who criticize and complain that ‘Mahler’s everywhere now’. To them I say let others discover what you already know to be a gift. This box set cycle has a historic and superb orchestra with legendary directors—a new generation of conductors contributing to Mahler’s work.
The box set has 10 CDs (and a digital download for all, 24-bit / 48 kHz) and video recordings on Blu-ray (4). Also, there’s a 128-page booklet with introductions to all the symphonies and wonderful essays by Stephen Johnson and Barbara Vinken. Who is this cycle for? I’d say for the die hard Mahler fans who need to have this important recording in their collection. But mostly for the new Mahler aficionados who have the desire to immerse themselves into Mahler’s compositions. Mahler’s music is for everyone, and investing in a great recording lets you engage with the musicians that make it all happen. This cycle invites you to do just that. I fully recommend it.
