This was an admirable and brilliant performance of the Mahler’s Symphony No. 3, which Martin Buzacott in his program notes describes as “one of the truly monumental works of Western civilisation” (he also notes that “it has its own entry in the Guinness Book of Records as the longest regularly-programmed symphony ever composed”). Indeed, the usher reminded us as we entered that it was about an hour forty and there was only one entry point back in if one needed to go out during the show.
Jaime Martín conducts in an easy, even relaxed manner, but when called for, encompasses and encourages his huge ensemble with sweeps of passion and grunt. He uses nods of his head, even elbows, fluttering fingers, and encourages entries by cueing players with an inviting, palm-up hand. The Melbourne Symphony Orchestra responded superbly and gave of their best, contributing as if each was a soloist – as indeed many of them were, with their glistening individual moments punctuating both full-bodied and whisper-soft sound from the orchestra. And what an orchestra – nearly 100 strong, with the whole back row a line-up of percussionists!
The program opened with Deborah Cheetham Fraillon’s Acknowledgment of Country, Long Time Living Here, beautifully played by a string quartet. But before taking the podium, in a rather lovely and touching moment, Martín walked across the stage to farewell violinist Kirsty Bremner and acknowledge her retirement from the orchestra after 38 years. And then he returned to raise his baton for the first dramatic entry to the symphony.
The descriptions of the movements are those of Mahler himself; while these descriptive titles would not be used in the published score, many writers argue that they assist the listener to orient to “the world of ideas, emotions, and associations that lay behind the musical choices Mahler made as he composed” (Michael Steinberg).
Movement 1. Pan awakes – Summer marches in
The unformed and wintry primeval world was summoned up by a stunning nine French horns at the opening, then joined by all the lower brass. The solo trombone recitatives throughout were impeccable, really notable for golden tone quality, richness and accuracy. Superbly done. Summer marched in triumphantly, chords and stirring counter melodies from the brass driven along by a busy line of percussionists, and two sets of tympani as the great forceful procession of Summer/Pan progressed. A regimental band on steroids! The various moments of impending catastrophe were fiercely projected, where the huge sound of the horns contrasted with the sinister and scary “cries” from the other brass and woodwinds. The long movement closed with an orchestral fairground – to one of us, à la Percy Grainger, to the other, reminiscent of the Disneyland TV theme music! Lush strings and harps’ glissandi added to the glitter and excitement, making for an exuberant sense of unassailable joy.
Movement 2. What the flowers in the meadow tell me
During the short break at the end of the first movement indicated in the score by Mahler, the orchestra took the opportunity to retune, then embarked on a minuet that danced and glowed with gorgeous melodies. Bravo to the strings, who provided colour-richness and pizzicato playing that was perfectly in sync, and bravissimo to the song from the graceful oboe. Most evident in this movement is Mahler’s variety in contrasting full orchestration with his love of creating small ensemble grouping, with so many opportunities for every section, as well as solo instruments, to shine.
Movement 3. What the beasts in the wood tell me
In the third movement strings and flutes scurried around in an instrumental version of a song from Mahler’s Des Knaben Wunderhorn in which Lady Nightingale is called on to start singing once the cuckoo has finished – the minor cuckoo and the overtaking major nightingale cheekily jostled it out beautifully. The crabby descending chromatics in the trombone were a delight as they played up the demise of the cuckoo! The wonderful sound of seven double basses playing fast and furiously was mighty impressive too. The posthorn solo ostensibly starting from afar was beautifully played (though from our seat in the stalls it didn’t seem very distant). Moving closer it ended as a fanfare. Such jollity and joy brought smiles in the first section, overtaken (as was Mahler’s wont) towards the end of the movement by a thundering bass drum crashing us into a new tonality and the violence of a last judgement summons (using themes from the finale of his 2nd symphony).
Movement 4. What Man tells me
The last three movements are continuous with no breaks. Mezzo-soprano Raehann Bryce-Davis took the stage (wearing an amazing colourful frock) to open the 4th movement with the Midnight Song, the text taken from Nietzsche’s Also sprach Zarathustra where “the voice longs for eternity” (Buzacott program note). Singing with a rich and expressive contralto tone, well-suited to Mahler, Bryce-Davis was at one with the softness of the strings accompanying her as they conveyed the awakening from the dark and deep night. The night birds were heard in an oboe crying hauntingly through the midnight silence. The horn duo deserved special plaudits.
Movement 5. What the angels tell me
The choirs, who had entered at the end of the first movement and waited patiently for their turn, at last got their chance to shine, with the children’s chorus singing without scores and delightfully imitating the sounds of bells to a background of actual bells and woodwinds. This startling contrast to the previous movement continued with a splendid choir of ladies from the MSO Chorus joining the children’s choirs in beautiful and disciplined singing of another poem from Des Knaben Wunderhorn. Its “heavenly joy” was excitingly captured by voices, harps, horns and trumpets.
Movement 6. What love tells me
The final great slow Adagio movement (which was used in the Athens 2004 Olympics opening ceremony) is all about love, which for Mahler was “the zenith, the highest level from which the world can be viewed”. It begins so softly, with string sound as rich and smooth as velvet, and again “lush” is an unavoidable descriptor. Glorious melodies emerged as woodwinds and horns provided obbligati, flurries of inevitable anxiety as horns were back in full flight, and the magic of smaller ensembles reappeared. There was a broad solemn melody with magical bass pizzicato accompaniment. Then bass and both timpanists (bravo!) presaged a climax where all instruments played so passionately, especially in the heavenly chorale from the splendid and huge brass section, with many opportunities even for the tuba and tenor tuba.The triumphant finale was a paean of glory. Mahler’s great final chord was sent off into the future, not with a cut-off, but with a forward wave by Martín – so no sudden finish, rather a gesture that made the following moment’s silence the actual ending. The orchestra, mezzo and choral groups well deserved the extended standing ovation that followed and applause for the individual soloists from each section.
This was a wonderfully satisfying performance from an outstanding orchestra and conductor. But what a pity that the players were corralled into an unappealing Masonite box – especially when playing Mahler, known for his love of natural beauty. Where is the grace, the pleasing colour and textures, where the loveliness in this performance space? Bring back the organ, and some character to the stage of this otherwise excellent concert hall!
Photo credit: Laura Manariti
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Kristina and Bruce Macrae reviewed “Jaime Conducts Mahler 3” performed by the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra Raehann Bryce-Davis, the Upper voices of the MSO Chorus,Young Voices of Melbourne and singers from St Catherine’s School at Arts Centre Melbourne, Hamer Hall, on March 16, 2024.
