Sunday, November 10, 2013

November 9th, 2013: Mahler's Sixth Symphony

Last night was the fifth Masterworks concert of the season, and was one of the eleven conducted by Ludovic Morlot. Mahler's massive sixth symphony was paired with four of Pierre Boulez' notations for large orchestra, which comprised the first 'half' of the program.

Predictably, Morlot picked up a microphone to introduce and talk about the Boulez, if only to try to make it a little bit less incomprehensible and cacophonous to the ears of the audience. Apparently these notations were originally written for solo piano, so he talked through each of the notations with the help of the Seattle Symphony pianist, and then when it was time to perform them, he had the piano again play the original piano version of each notation before the orchestra would follow with the orchestrated version. They performed the notations in the order I, IV, III, II because of the raucous, climactic ending at the end of II.

A funny thing that happened is that toward the beginning of introducing the Boulez, Morlot said something about "first hearing them in their original piano versions, and then seeing how they became grand magnificentries in the orchestra." And then he repeated the line verbatim right before they began performing them, which I think was a mistake due to performing the concert twice.

I personally didn't mind the notations too much. The orchestra played them very well and they had a lot of interesting acoustical effects. The orchestra was massive, so there was a lot to look at and follow, and it was therefore relatively easy to stay somewhat engaged even with the complete lack of harmony.

When the last notation ended, intermission began. The first half, including all the talking and playing introduction, couldn't have been more than twenty minutes. Definitely the shortest first half ever. I suppose it's an awkward thing to program a long Mahler symphony, because it's just a bit too short to comprise a concert-with-no-intermission by itself, but if you have an intermission and a first half, it's got to be quite short unless you want to end up with a three hour concert.

I saw several people I know in the audience last night, but unfortunately didn't get to speak with most of them. I saw three or four fellow UW students, a conductor who I used to play under and who actually conducted a movement of my second symphony, and then some family friends who we see from time to time who are very into music. The last of that group I did get to speak with, for they spotted me on the balcony in the lobby and came up to say hi. One of them was carrying the score to Mahler 6, which I thought was just awesome. I couldn't get over it.

Speaking with my friend with the score was actually very helpful because he clarified for me the form of the Mahler symphony in a way that actually helped me finally be able to follow the form of the movements during the performance. It turns out that during those really long passages of winding, journeying orchestral writing, there isn't any intricate form hidden in those; they are just really really long development sections usually. Anyways, we then returned to our seats for the Mahler symphony, and settled in for the long ride.

Morlot returned to the podium and gave the downbeat to the eighty-minute work. The cellos and basses kicked in con fuoco. The repeated driving notes that open the symphony were loud, gritty, percussive, and with a sweeping drive forward through the pulse. The snare drum and the strings picked up the energy and climbed up with their dotted motifs to the tonic a minor chord, at which point the brass burst onto the scene, propelling and maintaining the intense energy. My new girlfriend, who had never been to a symphony before, literally uttered an involuntary "wow" five or ten seconds into the opening of the piece. I'll admit I had fears about Morlot treating Mahler in too French a manner, softening the edges, etc. All those fears were gone within the first few seconds of the performance. 

The first movement was absolutely thrilling from beginning to end. For the first time the piece really began to make sense to me. Unlike Mahler 2, 3 or 5, with which I am more familiar, the dramatic coherence of Mahler 6 continuously eluded me. But throughout the course of the first movement last night, it all came together, it was a very clear symphonic journey. The clarity of the orchestral textures was electrifying, the pulse of the music was impeccable. There was really nothing that stuck out to me as lacking in any way.

Morlot chose to perform the four movements in their original order, with the fast scherzo coming right after the first movement, followed by the slow movement and then the finale. I like this order because it has a similar effect to the second movement of Beethoven 9 following the first movement. One fiery, dramatic movement comes to an end, and it's immediately followed by more driving, minor music, as if to say "and here is chapter two of the same journey, there's no rest for you." It has a magnificent effect. I can't help but think that this scherzo partially inspired the polish composer Wojciech Kilar when he composed the score to Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula film from 1992.

In terms of the form, I began to make sense of the scherzo as well last night. For the first time, during those subdued wind-centric passages, I thought "hey, that's the trio!" I suppose I could be wrong, but that's what it seemed like to me.

The slow movement, which is my favorite, is the only one in which I may have been moved a little bit less than I was hoping to be. I suppose this is probably because it's my favorite movement, and the expectations for favorites are always set too high. I can't really complain about anything that they did; the tempo was good, the soaring string passages were haunting and expressive, the erie, lonely moments with the winds conjured images of utter desolation. It's just that it's the kind of movement that no matter how much you do with it, it feels like there can always be more done. It's tempting to want every note to be dragged out to eternity, every phrase to last twice as long as it does so that you can savor the heart-wrenching beauty or the heart-wrenching loneliness.

And finally came the last movement, which by itself is longer than the majority of symphonies written in the classical era. This is still my least favorite movement of the bunch, as it really does seem to just go on forever, and while there are dark, thrilling passages reminiscent of the style of the first movement, there are also extended periods where I'm just not sure what Mahler is trying to say. In those moments I didn't try to figure it out, I would just let my thoughts wander and be supported by the excellent orchestral playing coming from the stage. I was able to follow the form more than usual, having been informed by my friend during intermission that this movement has a ten minute development section. I was then able to follow the form just in the sense of picking up on when the repeat of the exposition begins, and when the recapitulation begins after the development. It is quite straightforward, I just didn't pick up on it before because I couldn't believe it would have a ten minute development, so I would always end up getting lost, assuming I'm missing something.

The last movement contains the famous three hammer strokes of fate. A giant wooden box was situated towards the back left of the stage, and a giant wooden hammer sat next to it. Principal percussionist Michael Werner would move over there at the appropriate times, lift the hammer high over his head, his arms shaking slightly from the weight, and then smash it down onto the box on the appropriate downbeat. The first hammer stroke seemed a bit subdued, and I wondered why they chose to have a padding on the wooden box to muffle the effect. The second hammer stroke had more of a crack to it and was more satisfying. And the third one, which is supposed to happen right at the end of the piece, seconds before the movement comes to a close, didn't happen. There is a lot of superstition surrounding these three strokes of fate, because Mahler wrote this piece at a really happy time in his life, and after he wrote these three strokes of fate, three strokes of fate plagued his life, the last one of which was his own death. I was honestly surprised that they actually feared the repercussions of executing all three hammer strokes though. I mean, really? They still had a loud percussive effect on that last explosion right at the end, with the help of the timpani, bass and snare drums, but I was really disappointed in their avoidance of the third hammer stroke.

It was really amazing how quickly the time moved throughout the entire work. It was really an excellent performance. There are extended sections of this piece that took me more than ten listenings just to begin to like, and last night the entirety of the piece was laid out with such clarity and seemingly effortless coherence, that the eighty-minute symphonic journey did not feel any longer than forty. As the applause took off following the commencement of the epic adventure, my girlfriend asked "is it over?" and was extremely disappointed to face the fact that it was. That right there is proof of an excellent performance. A first time symphony goer vs. Mahler 6, and the Mahler won.

Next up is Beethoven's Pastoral symphony on November 16th!

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