Gustav Mahler, one of the most popular of all orchestral composers, once said that a symphony should encompass the entire world. More than any other of his works, the magnificent, epic Symphony # 3 does just that.
I first fell in love with this work as a teenager. After borrowing Jascha Horenstein's wonderful recording with the London Symphony Orchestra a few times from the library, I went out and bought a copy for myself. I still treasure the same recording in its CD re-release (among several others).
So any time the Toronto Symphony Orchestra wants to perform it, I will be there, and it will always be a special event for me. This week actually marks Maestro Peter Oundjian's second go at this huge work during his tenure with the orchestra (the last time was in 2008).
As well as being Mahler's longest symphony, and the longest symphony to be regularly performed (with six movements and lasting 1 hour 40 minutes, give or take a bit), this is also Mahler's most diverse work. To perform it, conductor and players (and singers, too) have to be ready to push all the elements as far as possible. This isn't a piece for the faint of heart or the overly-fastidious. The march tune in F major which dominates the first movement has to be brazen to the point of becoming raucous. The woodwind interjections in the scherzo need the same kind of blaring tone -- there are passages where Mahler directs that the winds and horns lift their instruments up so that the sound comes out as forcefully as possible. The alto song has to be deeply solemn, the angel chorus verging on the cute and kitschy. And the long, slow finale has to exude an air of ultimate love and consolation despite the episodes of anguish and fear that intrude.
Mahler divided the work into two parts, the first comprising the huge (35 minute) first movement, the second part comprising the other five. Last time around, Oundjian performed the entire work without a break but this week there was an intermission between the two parts.
The massive first movement ("Pan awakens; summer marches in) consists of two main elements: the slow, dirge-like music in D minor dominated by the low brasses (and especially by Gordon Wolfe's magnificent trombone solos) and the upbeat, energetic, almost frenetic march in F major which arises from the higher strings and winds before spreading to inflame the entire orchestra. The measured pacing of the D minor slow music was especially notable in the dead-quiet gentle rhythms tapped out by the bass drum at the end of each section. Oundjian shaped the march portions with a careful hand, always keeping a bit of volume in reserve for the very final bars of each section.
The central development section is dominated by the marching rhythm but includes intrusions of the melodic figures from the slower parts. Orchestra and conductor alike made certain that every element of the music came through clearly in the very complex polyphonic layers of this passage. Sadly, the offstage snare drum passage was so robust that it might just as well have been played on the stage. It would have been better if the side stage door had been left closed for this.
In the end, of course, it is the march that has the final word and in the coda it seemed that the tempo did become a little too frenetic, a kind of race to the finish line which was tremendously exciting but didn't hold together one hundred percent.
After the intermission, the delicacy of the second movement ("What the Flowers in the Meadows Tell Me") provided the hugest possible contrast. This short little minuet is full of gentle little solo bits for the high woodwinds and the violin, and all were beautifully played. The final notes disappeared into the air as gently as could be.
Then came the scherzo ("What the Animals in the Woods Tell Me"). Opening in the same air of quiet gentleness as the minuet, it quickly becomes much more robust and even threatening in tone. Oundjian made sure that this movement rolled along with the same moto perpetuo quality as the march in the first part. Woodwind and brass interjections were tart and explosive, as required. Then, in the slow contrasting sections, the offstage trumpet solo by Andrew McCandless was impeccable -- and suitably distant, with the doors closed -- as they should have been for the snare drum in Part One. These offstage layers of sound are critical in Mahler for conveying the sense of distance and space which the composer wanted. The final coda thundered quickly by.
The fourth movement ("What Mankind Tells Me") has to be played dead slow and dead quiet by the orchestra, like a suspended moment in time. The mezzo-soprano soloist, Jamie Barton, was simply magnificent in this slow, heartfelt song. Her tone smooth, unmarred by vibrato, her diction clear, her pitch impeccable, she held the audience rapt with her exemplary performance.
Another huge contrast comes with the light, folk-like entrance of the brief fifth movement ("What the Angels Tell Me"). The orchestra and combined women's voices of the Amadeus Choir, Elmer Iseler Singers, Oriana Choir, and the Toronto Children's Chorus combined in a joyful, bouncy rendition of this happy, angelic hymn. In the contrasting darker centre section Jamie Barton sang with a more dramatic tone than in the previous movement, underlining the fact that this piece is storytelling in contrast to the previous song's meditation. The final bars, with the bell-sounds ("Bimm, bamm" with a closed hum on the "mm") got quieter and quieter until the last notes evaporated into the sky.
Immediately, Oundjian had the opening notes of the long, slow final movement ("What Love Tells Me") stealing as quietly in upon the strings, before even having the choirs sit down. This final orchestral song of divine love consists of long chains of melody, with phrase after phrase unfolding in the most organic way for minutes on end. These long, singing melodic lines are entrusted to the strings, and the TSO players excelled in quiet, smooth, clear-toned playing. As the movement unfolds, tempo does shift, and other instruments join in, but the strings dominate here as nowhere else in the symphony. When the music does rise to climaxes of anguish, the tempo quickens, but under Oundjian's guiding hand the acceleration remained entirely natural and unforced. The last solo passages of the work are the heartfelt consolation of Nora Shulman's flute after the last climax, and then the gentle unfolding of the main theme for the last time by McCandless on trumpet, both played magnificently. The music then rose slowly to a final grand climax on a long-sustained triumphant major chord.
The Third may be long, but it's quintessential Mahler all the same, and this performance was a magnificent tour through one of music's most remarkable achievements by all the players, singers, and conductor. The TSO is repeating the concert tonight and this concert will well repay your time if you can get there!
The central development section is dominated by the marching rhythm but includes intrusions of the melodic figures from the slower parts. Orchestra and conductor alike made certain that every element of the music came through clearly in the very complex polyphonic layers of this passage. Sadly, the offstage snare drum passage was so robust that it might just as well have been played on the stage. It would have been better if the side stage door had been left closed for this.
In the end, of course, it is the march that has the final word and in the coda it seemed that the tempo did become a little too frenetic, a kind of race to the finish line which was tremendously exciting but didn't hold together one hundred percent.
After the intermission, the delicacy of the second movement ("What the Flowers in the Meadows Tell Me") provided the hugest possible contrast. This short little minuet is full of gentle little solo bits for the high woodwinds and the violin, and all were beautifully played. The final notes disappeared into the air as gently as could be.
Then came the scherzo ("What the Animals in the Woods Tell Me"). Opening in the same air of quiet gentleness as the minuet, it quickly becomes much more robust and even threatening in tone. Oundjian made sure that this movement rolled along with the same moto perpetuo quality as the march in the first part. Woodwind and brass interjections were tart and explosive, as required. Then, in the slow contrasting sections, the offstage trumpet solo by Andrew McCandless was impeccable -- and suitably distant, with the doors closed -- as they should have been for the snare drum in Part One. These offstage layers of sound are critical in Mahler for conveying the sense of distance and space which the composer wanted. The final coda thundered quickly by.
The fourth movement ("What Mankind Tells Me") has to be played dead slow and dead quiet by the orchestra, like a suspended moment in time. The mezzo-soprano soloist, Jamie Barton, was simply magnificent in this slow, heartfelt song. Her tone smooth, unmarred by vibrato, her diction clear, her pitch impeccable, she held the audience rapt with her exemplary performance.
Another huge contrast comes with the light, folk-like entrance of the brief fifth movement ("What the Angels Tell Me"). The orchestra and combined women's voices of the Amadeus Choir, Elmer Iseler Singers, Oriana Choir, and the Toronto Children's Chorus combined in a joyful, bouncy rendition of this happy, angelic hymn. In the contrasting darker centre section Jamie Barton sang with a more dramatic tone than in the previous movement, underlining the fact that this piece is storytelling in contrast to the previous song's meditation. The final bars, with the bell-sounds ("Bimm, bamm" with a closed hum on the "mm") got quieter and quieter until the last notes evaporated into the sky.
Immediately, Oundjian had the opening notes of the long, slow final movement ("What Love Tells Me") stealing as quietly in upon the strings, before even having the choirs sit down. This final orchestral song of divine love consists of long chains of melody, with phrase after phrase unfolding in the most organic way for minutes on end. These long, singing melodic lines are entrusted to the strings, and the TSO players excelled in quiet, smooth, clear-toned playing. As the movement unfolds, tempo does shift, and other instruments join in, but the strings dominate here as nowhere else in the symphony. When the music does rise to climaxes of anguish, the tempo quickens, but under Oundjian's guiding hand the acceleration remained entirely natural and unforced. The last solo passages of the work are the heartfelt consolation of Nora Shulman's flute after the last climax, and then the gentle unfolding of the main theme for the last time by McCandless on trumpet, both played magnificently. The music then rose slowly to a final grand climax on a long-sustained triumphant major chord.
The Third may be long, but it's quintessential Mahler all the same, and this performance was a magnificent tour through one of music's most remarkable achievements by all the players, singers, and conductor. The TSO is repeating the concert tonight and this concert will well repay your time if you can get there!
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