September 17, 2009: Mahler Festival '09 begins

This year's San Francisco Symphony subscription series has begun with a three-week festival of the music of Gustav Mahler.  Mahler has been so much a part of the Symphony repertoire since Michael Tilson Thomas became Music Director that one might wonder why he should be singled out for "festival" treatment.  However, when we recall Thomas' tendency to invoke the metaphor of a journey when considering the scope of a composer's work, that metaphor is particularly apposite for Mahler;  and, as is the case with any journey, we need to make frequent stops to reflect on where we have been and where we may next be going.  Thus, the programs for these three weeks will cover works familiar to Symphony regulars;  and, on the basis of last night's opening concert, I would say that they will also reveal how Thomas' thoughts about Mahler have progressed.  It would not surprise me if, before the Festival has concluded, we shall have some indicators of where those thought may next lead him.

Consider the settings of the five poems of Friedrich Rückert that opened the program.  These were composed over a period of slightly more than a year between 1901 and 1902, which is roughly the same time frame as his work on his fifth symphony (which will conclude the Festival).  Wikipedia provides a nice summary of when each song was composed (referring to each with both its German title and an English translation:

1. Blicke mir nicht in die Lieder! − Do not look at my songs! (14 June 1901)
2. Ich atmet’ einen linden Duft − I breathed a gentle fragrance (July 1901)
3. Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen − I have become lost to the world (16 August 1901)
4. Um Mitternacht − At midnight (Summer 1901)
5. Liebst du um Schönheit − If You Love for Beauty (August 1902)

The reflective intensity of the texts (already evident in the first lines that served Mahler as titles) is certainly consistent with the usual biographical account of Mahler's own tortured life;  but there are interesting ways in which they depart from the "symphonic Mahler" we have come to know through Thomas' concerts.  For one thing, while all were scored for piano accompaniment, only the first four were orchestrated, receiving their first performance on January 29, 1905.  "Liebst du um Schönheit" was orchestrated in 1910 by Max Puttmann, an employee of the publisher C. F. Kahnt of Leipzig.  More interesting, however, is that Mahler's orchestrations were surprisingly modest in comparison with that of his symphonies, although the notes by the late Michael Steinberg see a connection between "Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen" and the Adagietto movement of the fifth symphony, which is scored for only the string section and harp.

Mahler's approach to that "reflective intensity" seems to have involved dwelling more on sounds in isolation than on ensemble effects.  The harp connection to the Adagietto is more than an orchestration decision.  Mahler seems to have drawn upon the sound of a single plucked string in the lowest register to embody the "lost to the world" sense of the poem.  One might almost call the result a song for low voice, harp, and orchestral accompaniment.  The same can be said for his use of individual wind voices, particularly in "Um Mitternacht," where the only string instruments are harp and piano.  It is interesting that Steinberg called Mahler's first symphony "the most original First after the Berlioz Fantastique," (that latter having been selected by Sir Simon Rattle to begin this year's Berlin Philharmonic Season) because the heart-breaking oboe glissando drop in "Um Mitternacht" is a clear nod to Symphonie Fantastique.

The fact is that these song settings offer one of our best views into "Mahler-in-the-small." contrasting sharply with the grandiloquence of most of his other symphonic writing.  Indeed, the first time I really listened to these songs, the performance was by the 92nd Street Y Chamber Orchestra and involved a string section about half the size of the one performing last night in Davies Symphony Hall.  Nevertheless, Thomas kept his strings under control, never letting them obscure any of those all-important individual sounds while some solo work by Concertmaster Alexander Barantschik contributed to that mix of individual voices.  All this provided the perfect setting for mezzo-soprano Susan Graham's delivery of the song texts themselves, never overplaying the emotionality but always tapping into the essence of the words with her reliably sure and clear voice.

Following the intermission, we could make the transition from this unconventional "Mahler-in-the-small" to "Mahler-business-as-usual" in Thomas' reading of that first symphony.  Steinberg's "Berlioz connection" goes far beyond departing from the beaten path in original ways.  Like Symphony Fantastique, this symphony begins with an extended introduction, whose only serious precedent is the introduction to the first movement of the Berlioz symphony.  Indeed, the conception of that introduction must have consumed Mahler to such an extent that he never composed another one;  but that introduction is also the "cyclic key" to the overall architecture of the symphony, resurfacing in the final movement to bring the journey back to its point of departure.  That journey ends in both turbulence and triumph with its irregular rhythms that appear to be stammering out their themes and wave after wave of building crescendo passages, almost daring the audience to assume that things cannot get any louder.  Steinberg captured this beautifully in the final sentence of his program notes:

He then goes all the way back to the music with which the symphony began and gathers strength for a second assault that does indeed open the doors to a heroic ending and to its celebration in a hymn in which the horns, now on their feet, are instructed to drown out the rest of the orchestra, "even the trumpets."

It is no surprise that the Viennese press could only react to this with caricature (included in the program book and reproduced above);  but (to paraphrase from an unlikely connection to W. S. Gilbert) there really is beauty in the bellow of this blast.  Vienna may have been going into twilight, but Mahler was in command of exuberant exhilaration.  Thomas understands this;  and, as he always seems to do, he kept his resources under control to invoke that final bellow in all of its inherent beauty.  There could not have been a more festive way to launch this Mahler Festival.