The San Francisco Symphony, flush with the success of its European tour, played the opening subscription concert Wednesday to a fair number of empty seats. I was surprised to see this, given the orchestra's praiseworthy recent Mahler interpretations. Those who were in attendance were treated to a wonderful, if flawed, performance of Mahler's
Das Lied von der Erde, with Michael Tilson Thomas conducting a roster of internationally known soloists.
The orchestra opened with Mozart’s three-movement Symphony No. 34 in C Major K. 338 (1780). The choice was a wise one, providing a delicate and refined contrast to Mahler’s emotionally intense work. The highlight of the orchestra’s interpretation was the second movement, which is written for strings alone. The string sections performed with great finesse, employing a wide variety of bowing styles and a judicious use of vibrato to make crystal clear phrases and shapes.
At other times, though, the playing was a bit too well-blended and refined. The first movement, for example, suffered from a lack of color, failing to achieve a significant contrast between its lyrical and dramatic sections. The strings remained constantly in the foreground, preventing important thematic and structural elements in the winds and brass from making their impact.
The strings remained prominent in the rollicking third movement, performing with deft virtuosity. Again there were balance problems with the winds and brass, and several solo moments for the pair of oboes were not given due prominence. This may have been for the best, however, since they were playing slightly behind the beat.
A Tale of Two Soloists
The Mahler work occupied the second half of the evening. Half symphony, half song-cycle,
Das Lied has often been cited as Mahler’s greatest work, with its searing emotional weight and its remarkable handling of counterpoint, orchestration, and thematic relationships.
I must admit I was a bit wary going into this performance because favorite recordings have always paired a tenor and an alto in the vocal roles. I was unsure whether I would enjoy the tenor and baritone combination Tilson-Thomas employed. Would the two voices achieve sufficient contrast, highlighting the sense of duality that is central to the work? Would the extremely high tessitura of the second solo part lie comfortably within the baritone’s vocal range?
Baritone Thomas Hampson allayed my fears. Mahler’s vocal writing lay superbly in his range and, except for one chortled high G in the fourth movement, he thoroughly mastered its demands. No stranger to Mahler (having recorded extensively with Leonard Bernstein) or to
Das Lied (as the recently released recording of the work with Simon Rattle and the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra attests), Hampson’s interpretation was grippingly convincing.
Passionate singing was enhanced by a compelling aura and stage presence, making him seem one with the poetic narrator. His interpretation of "Der Abschied" (The farewell), the haunting last song/movement, was remarkable for his ability to make each note and each phrase seem like the final one, underlining the music’s sense of entropy and weight.
The tenor soloist, Stuart Skelton, was less successful. Although possessing a mellifluous lyric tenor voice, he was often overbalanced by the orchestra. Certainly the songs with tenor are more fully orchestrated than those for the alto/baritone, but Skelton’s voice was underpowered as the orchestra overplayed its part. Skelton was noticeably stronger in his high range than in his low range, but he was often unable to project the words or the line.
The orchestra played virtuosically throughout the work. Particularly strong were the moments in the piece that call for brilliant orchestral tutti, such as the exoticist third movement and the middle passage in the fourth movement that seems lifted out of Tchaikovsky’s 1812 overture. Michael Tilson Thomas impressed, above all, with his expert handling of the last movement. With its myriad meter changes, cross-rhythms and cadenzalike passages across the orchestra, the movement is notoriously difficult to conduct. Mahler himself once pointed out a passage in the final movement to his disciple Bruno Walter and asked him, "Have you the slightest idea how to conduct this? I haven't!" Thomas charted the orchestra through these waters with well-chosen subdivisions and deep concentration.
The ending was a bit disappointing. The work’s final bars are perhaps the most famous in the piece, with their sense of fading away into the ether. These bars were a bit too present, and Thomas’ last cut-off was too emphatic. As a result, although Thomas made a clear gesture for the audience to hold its applause, enthusiastic clapping followed shortly after the last chord, and audience members were on their feet. But it was too soon.