As a longtime, thankfully incurable sufferer of Mahlerian fever, I found last weekend's lineup at the Kennedy Center Concert Hall an irresistible draw - Mahler's Symphony No. 6 on Saturday night performed by the National Symphony Orchestra, and No. 5 on Sunday afternoon performed by the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra from Amsterdam, the Netherlands.
NSO music director Leonard Slatkin has never impressed me more than on this occasion. He conveyed the weight of the Sixth - it's not commonly known as the "Tragic" Symphony for nothing - without wallowing in the dark side, always allowing lyrical contrasts plenty of ecstatic release. He handled shifting tempos effectively and with an ear for structural unity, even in the long, episodic finale.
That last movement was particularly notable in that Slatkin used Mahler's original version of the score. This meant a thicker orchestration and, most significantly, all three of the mighty, fateful blows from a percussionist (using a specially built device to deliver, with a huge hammer, the horrific thud the composer intended). Mahler's revision, used by most conductors today, eliminated the third of those blows.
Although I'm all for respecting a composer's intentions, I always feel something is missing without that extra whack; the music builds so obviously to a point of attack, just as with the previous two. The inclusion of the third added deeply chilling impact. (Slatkin has been great to Mahler fanatics around here - not only restoring this version of the Sixth, but, in recent years, allowing us to experience and debate Mahler's controversial and fascinating re-orchestrations of Beethoven symphonies.)
A few slightly unfocused moments aside, this was a great night for the NSO. The brass and percussion proved particularly stalwart, with colorful efforts from the woodwinds and intensely expressive phrasing from the strings. It sounded to me like the orchestra set a new standard for itself here.
This program opened with the haunting Kindertotenlieder (Songs on the Death of Children), Mahler's profound setting of Friedrich Ruckert poems that attempt to express the unutterable pain of loss.
Thomas Hampson's uncommonly warm, seamless baritone and incisive phrasing proved an ideal combination. This was masterful singing, and it received sensitive partnering from Slatkin and the orchestra.
Sunday's concert, presented by the Washington Performing Arts Society, delivered the more optimistic message of Mahler's Fifth, with its progression from funeral march to giddy, explosive joy, in stunning fashion.
The Concertgebouw, which Mahler himself conducted, is one of Europe's greatest orchestras, with a burnished tone and an intense style of music-making (the body language of the players says a lot - much more physical involvement than typically seen beyond the first few rows of an American ensemble). And Mariss Jansons, the Latvian-born former music director of the Pittsburgh Symphony, is one of the world's most inspired, inspiring conductors.
That combination proved incendiary even before attention turned to Mahler. First, there was a terrific account of Richard Strauss' Don Juan, bursting with detail, atmosphere and action, thanks to Jansons' flair for musical story-telling and his musicians' ability to give him every nuance he asked of them.
It was the same in Mahler's epic Fifth. From full-throttle to whispery, the Concertgebouw excelled, with brilliant brass and winds balancing sumptuous strings. And Jansons provided telling, distinctive insight at nearly every turn. His superb sense of timing allowed him to bend tempos without ever losing the overall musical line, and he ensured that the smallest details in the scoring shone through.
The first two movements had terrific intensity and edginess; the slightly schizoid Scherzo was wonderfully animated, including authentic Viennese lilt when the texture lightened; the Adagietto flowed spaciously, touchingly; and the finale couldn't have been much more exciting or cathartic.
Awadagin Pratt
Awadagin Pratt returned Friday night to the Peabody Institute, where, back in the early 1990s, he became its first triple-diploma winner - piano, violin and conducting. It was just the piano that concerned him on this occasion, and he played the heck out of it in a demanding recital.
Even the finger-busting-est passages of Liszt's Sonata in B Minor seemed to pose no significant challenge for the pianist; if anything, he played them faster than the speed of hearing. He also brought out the score's moody drama with considerable effectiveness.
Pratt, who received the Peabody Distinguished Alumnus Award between the recital's halves, delivered two Beethoven sonatas with technical elan and, for the most part, strongly communicative phrasing. Franck's Prelude, Fugue and Variations received a beautifully molded performance. The pianist's own transcription of Bach's C minor Passacaglia and Fugue moved gradually and unabashedly into a spectacular form of pianistic overdrive.
tim.smith@baltsun.com
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