CHICAGO SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA
I understand completely. This is not to take anything away from Solti, Giulini, Levine, Abbado, or any other conductor who may have performed or recorded the Mahler First with the CSO, but Tennstedt’s reading of the work–first heard here nearly five seasons ago–is so original and persuasive that you feel as if you’re hearing the piece for the first time.
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In recent years some have argued that the “Blumine” movement, the original orchestration, or the program should be restored. But there is little sense in doing that except to satisfy curiosity or to offer insight into the genesis of a masterpiece. Mahler’s final version is certainly the tightest and most powerful, and modern audiences respond to it in such a way that a program is unnecessary. Mahler was not against the idea of “program” music; he always insisted that his music contained his whole life’s experience and suffering. But he wanted listeners to draw freely from his music, find their own experiences in it, not read into it his interpretation or have him say what they should or shouldn’t hear.
During a coarse introduction the strings had trouble maintaining the high A out of which the symphony emerges at Tennstedt’s quiet dynamic level, and the initial horn theme was choppy. Then things settled down to a perfectly charming Viennese lilt, in which every structural detail of Mahler’s portrayal of the countryside was crystal clear. If the string ensembling was not as tight as it could have been, the gorgeous Viennese sound–by far the best sound I have heard the CSO strings produce for anyone–more than compensated. Tennstedt is a master Mahlerian, and his sense of architecture and how the work’s effects and moods fit into the overall plan is unparalleled by any conductor I have heard perform this work, live or recorded. The tension in the buildup and the subsequent arrival at D major was positively orgasmic.
The Fourth is much misunderstood, and is often seen as “light” Mahler. True, it has little of the terror and ferocity of the other symphonies, but it is preoccupied with death, even if from a heavenly point of view. It became the case for a jewel that was precious to Mahler, the song “Das himmlische Leben” (“The heavenly life”), which he did not include in the song cycle Des Knaben Wunderhorn, probably because he intended to use it as a movement for the Third Symphony. Its subtle effect would have been lost in the enormous scope of the Third, and so it became the basis for the Fourth, a far more appropriate setting.