Wednesday, April 27, 2022

Klaus Tennstedt's LPO Mahler cycle

My collection of Mahler recordings has stretched into the dozens, with multiple versions of each of his symphonies.  I found myself increasingly drawn to the work of Klaus Tennstedt, mainly based on the incendiary live versions that can be easily found on youtube and elsewhere.  Tennstedt was known as a master of the standard German repetoire, but there was a certain magic to be found when he conducted Mahler with the London Philharmonic.  The LPO was considered the third or maybe fourth best orchestra just in London, whereas Tennstedt, while great, had a lot of competition when it came to the German masterpieces he specialized in.  But the whole was better than the sum of the parts.  The synchronicity between orchestra and conductor was often something to behold, on any given night, this highly motivated group of performers could elevate themselves to being the greatest orchestra in the world playing the finest music ever composed.  

I have gradually been making my way through the entire set, some sixteen CD's worth.  Audiophile note: I bought this set through iTunes, so I listened on 320 kbps mp3's, with the exception of the 8th Symphony, which I have on CD.  


Symphony #1

A disappointing start.  The first movement is slow and tense, but comes across as too passive and underplayed for my taste.   The second movement is light and playful but fairly forgettable, and the third movement gets bogged down by its leisurely tempos and lack of momentum.  This reveals a problem that will recur multiple times during this cycle.  During the inner movements, which often don't build to huge, world-resolving climaxes, Tennstedt can get a bit lost in the plot.  But in his defense, this is a studio phenomenon that didn't happen during his live performances.  In front of an audience, Tennstedt would go all out and the music never lost its sense of purpose.  The fourth movement again drags, and although the final minutes are well played, the payoff can't redeem the symphony as a whole. 

 

Symphony #2 

The first movement snarls and growls, this is a truly heavy funeral march, and its brutally maudlin character is a quality that is lacking in many conductor's performances.  The tension is sustained wonderfully throughout the movement.  The second movement is delightful and again sticks closely to the script intended by Mahler, conjuring up youthful memories from long ago.  The third movement is playful but fairly nondescript, but serves as a setup for the glorious final two movements.  The finale runs nearly 35 minutes, one of the longer recorded finales in the Mahler catalog, but never drags or grows stagnant.  Tennstedt keeps the music flowing wonderfully -- extraordinarily difficult at such a slow tempo -- but builds unbearable tension even during the quieter moments.  In the hands of lesser conductors these quieter moments induce boredom and grind the symphony to a halt well before the finish.  Despite the long runtime, nothing is overwrought or exaggerated.  Tennstedt knows how to extract maximum emotion from nearly every moment.  In live performance, Tennstedt could be even more incendiary, but its easy to see why this was one of his signature pieces even from the studio recording.   


Symphony #3

The first movement is dark, schizophrenic, and masterfully intense.  This is followed by its near opposite, the light and lyrical minuetto of the second movement.  The third movement, the scherzando, is another triumph, a dreamlike gothic folk  number unfurling in slow motion.  The vocal movements then provide an oasis of calm leading up to the finale, particularly the hymn-like fifth movement.  The finale is almost unbearably tense, not as explosive as the live version from Minnesota that inspired me to finally buy this set, but riveting all the same.  Again, Tennstedt was more in his element performing this live, where he could have a complete emotional commitment to the music, staying constantly in the moment on account of the audience. He was a conductor who undoubtedly lost some of that focus while hammering things out for days in recorded setting.   


Symphony #4 

The first movement walks a careful and difficult balance between smooth and sentimental (in its first half), while flipping the switch to become rocky and unsettling in the second part.  The whole symphony kind of wavers between these extremes, which is strange for Tennstedt who usually carries a more consistent vision of Mahler's work.  It's as if he was undecided between two different takes on the music, or perhaps the consistency was broken between different recording sessions.   The third movement (Adagio) is beautifully played with a heart stopping final climax.  In all this symphony is a fine effort, although its two-faced nature did leave me feeling somewhat empty and confused.  


Symphony #5

Often cited as one of the great performances in this cycle, this is a dramatic, gripping account of the fifth.  I have a problematic relationship with this symphony, it's Mahler's busiest and longest (in terms of bars), and unfortunately I find myself exhausted by the end of the third movement unless it's a more flowing, lyrical reading such as Barbirolli's.  The first and last movements are explosive, but I found the third movement (scherzo) to be a bit meandering, and not as punchy or forceful as Tennstedt seems to be going for.  The fourth movement, the famous Adagietto is beautifully played, but too slow for my tastes, although many would disagree.  Overall this is a memorable account of the fifth, albeit a long and draining one, but again, that's my typical reaction to most versions of this symphony.


Symphony # 6 

Once again, Tennstedt nails the outer movements.  The first movement is everything you'd want -- bludgeoning, terrifying, the foreteller of impending doom.  The second movement (the Scherzo in Tennstedt's treatment) makes less of an impression, it's an extended bridge to the third movement but not much more.  The third movement (Andante) is simply gorgeous, among the very best I've heard.  In other versions, this is often the flat movement of the symphony for me, serving as a pause before the epic final movement.  With Tennstedt, it's the love theme for the doomed hero, like something out of a Hollywood tragedy.  

As for the final movement, the challenge for the conductor, in my view, is to maintain the momentum after the hammer blows.  He or she needs to smoothly, inexorably transition to the fateful conclusion, while avoiding the whiff of a huge anti-climax following the second hammer blow.  Tennstedt inverts this typical situation.  I found the passages leading to the hammer blows to be underplayed, leading to a searing final fifteen minutes that does not disappoint.    


Symphony #7 

Through the first two movements, this symphony was a big miss for me.  The first movement is too forced, too grandiose, like an extenstion of the 6th merely plugged into the Tennstedt formula.  It loses much of the offbeat kookiness that characterizes far better versions of this symphony.  The third movement, the scherzo, brings back some of the humour and nearly saves the symphony, and the fourth movement (Andante) is sympathetic, touching.  But the final movement, the Rondo Finale, once again plays it too straight, opting for more formulaic drama rather than madcap chaos. 


Symphony # 8 

I have never really connected with Mahler 8, which is less of a standard symphony than a drama set to music.  It's notoriously difficult to perform, with a million different things going on and the conductor trying to reign in the mayhem rather than truly shape the interpretation.  But undoubtedly, Tennstedt's version is the most effortless that I have heard.  This symphony trips up even the greatest Mahler conductors, and getting to the end can feel like a huge struggle, where the conductor forgets that they're dealing with a work of art and merely tries to maintain the orchestra's focus and will them to the finish.  Tennstedt makes it all sound easy.  This is hardly my favourite symphony but the quality of this performance can't be denied.


Symphony #9 

This performance is very understated throughout, and the shifts in mood seem to frequently confound Tennstedt.  The first movement starts out fiery, but then Tennstedt gets lost for about ten minutes in the middle.  This is a rare case in this cycle where the very slow tempo (run time of the first movement = 33 minutes) is a serious detriment.  The same can be said for the second movement, which begins energetically, only for the intensity to gradually trail off.  Tennstedt's slow, dramatic style doesn't fit the first three movements' schizophrenic struggle between the calm and the storm, which is most noticeable in the third movement.  The build to its climax should be frenetic, anxious, with the conductor instilling panic in the performance while not losing control of the orchestra.  Tennstedt solves this by simply taking things slow, the jaunty feel of the music doesn't pack the right emotional punch.  In the final movement (Adagio), the string sonority is too loose and sloppy.  The final minutes are meant to sound like the last gasps of life, but here the music simply trails off and vanishes with a benign whimper.  Soft climaxes were clearly not Tennstedt's strong suit.  


Symphony #10 (unfinished)

Tennstedt plays only the Adagio, but as was the case with the ninth, the sense of purpose is muddled without a towering climax as his destination.  


In all, this is clearly a set with its flaws, the biggest of which may be the fundamental notion that just about everyone's favourite Tennstedt will be from a live version rather than one of these studio versions.  Nevertheless, this cycle is well worth owning, the passion and inspiration that Tennstedt felt for the music is evident even during the weaker parts.       

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