The Bernstein Legacy III: Mahler's Symphony No. 3

Leonard Bernstein takes on the world according to Gustav Mahler, in six movements.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Art for the original release of Mahler's Symphony No. 3 by Erte. 

Of the wild and unpredictable early symphonies of Gustav Mahler, it could be argued that the composer’s Third, heard here as played by  Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic in 1987, is the wildest. It is certainly the longest, a sprawling six-movement work whose outer movements are each longer than most Beethoven compositions. The Third charts a cosmological course, starting with the the upthrust and upheaval of primeval mountain ranges and culminating in a slow finale that looks the Almighty square in the eye.

Concert Review: They Dig American Music

The New York Philharmonic explores its musical legacy.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

The trumpets, trombones and tuba of the New York Philharmonic.
Photo by Chris Lee © 2018 The New York Philharmonic.

There is a perception in the world of classical music that is a fallacy: that the music created by composers born in the United States is somehow inferior or lesser than the works of those composers born on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. The New York Philharmonic has a long record of fighting against that ugly prejudice, through the commission and creation of works by Yankee composers. On Thursday night America's oldest orchestra upheld that tradition with the the first of three concerts this week that focused on the brilliance and innovation of orchestral music created in this country the 20th century.

Concert Review: Taking on the World

Zubin Mehta conducts the sprawling Mahler Third.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Conductor for life Zubin Mehta.
Photo © 2017 Israel Philharmonic Orchestra.

The universe is a big place. Really big. And it is the subject matter of Gustav Mahler's Symphony No. 3. On Wednesday night at Carnegie Hall, Zubin Mehta and the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra (where he holds the post of Conductor for Life) took on this enormous, world-embracing work, which at 100 minutes (and six movements) is still the longest symphony to hold a place in the standard orchestral repertory. Performances require two choirs and a contralto soloist, making it a rarity on the concert stage.

Concert Review: A Tour of the Universe

Bernard Haitink conducts Mahler's Symphony No. 3.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

The conductor Bernard Haitink.
Photo © 2014 Medici.Tv,

At 100 minutes and six movements, Gustav Mahler's Symphony No. 3 in D Minor is the largest and longest symphony in the standard repertory. With the aid of two choirs, offstage instruments and an alto soloist, the work attempts to depict creation itself, moving through a vast cosmology from the mountains erupting out of the earth to the all-but-unfathomable love of a higher being.

Concert Review: Trading His Baton for a Bow

Alan Gilbert plays Bach, then leads Berg and Brahms.

Delicious! Soloist Frank Peter Zimmermann takes a bite of his 1711 Stradivarius.
Photo © 2010 Sony Classical/Frank Peter Zimmermann.

Friday's matinee concert at Avery Fisher Hall opened with the Bach Concerto for Two Violins, featuring Philharmonic 2011 Artist-in-Residence, joined by a talented young violinist...named Alan Gilbert. This may have been the boldest move of the Philharmonic music director's three-year tenure--picking up the violin and joining artist-in-residence Frank Peter Zimmermann for  Johann Sebastian Bach's Concerto for Two Violins.

I can't remember the last time this happened at the Philharmonic. (There is some precedent, as the orchestra was founded in 1842 by violinist Uli Corelli Hill.) History aside, Mr. Gilbert acquitted himself well, twining with Mr. Zimmermann in the eloquent opening. The long slow movement displayed the musical mind of the man who wields the baton with gorgeous figures from the twinned violins.

Alban Berg's moving Violin Concerto followed, with Mr. Gilbert resuming his traditional role on the podium. This is one of Berg's most mature, accessible works, and the last piece he completed before his untimely death. It is written in his 12-tone style but with such artistry that the serial technique never gets in the way of the listener's enjoyment.

Mr. Zimmermann led the choir of mourning from his violin. The Concerto was written following the death of Manon Gropius, the 18-year old daughter of Berg's friend Alma Mahler-Werfel, widow of the composer Gustav Mahler. He played the complex, dissonant figures with an almost operatic eloquence, soaring against the sometimes hushed, sometimes thnderous backdrop of the orchestration.

Berg ends the second and final movement of this concerto with a set of variations on a Bach chorale. (Happily, this fact tied together the two concertos on the program.) As he played the variations,  Mr. Zimmermann took an unusual step backwards on the stage, moving amongst the first violins and violas and playing as if he was part of their section. It was an unusual gesture for a soloist, and one that speaks of the bond between this violinist and the orchestra as he begins his year-long residency.

The concert ended with Brahms' Third Symphony, an heroic work that overcomes its opening storm and stress with rigorous classical thought in the mold of Beethoven. There is some evidence that Brahms' dense orchestral style influenced Berg's teacher Arnold Schoenberg, so a faint connection could be drawn between this work and the Violin Concerto.

This is Mr. Gilbert's favorite of the four Brahms symphonies, and he treated it royally. The opening had force. The slow movement flowed forth in rich tones but did not meander. And the very last pages, a hushed, but resolute chorale that anticipates the Bach-like ending of the Berg concerto by some 53 years, were played with magical, organ-like tone from the Philharmonic's wind and horn sections.

Concert Review: Before the Tour, an Eroica

Lisa Batiashvili.
Photo by Mark Harrison © BBC Music Magazine.

Beethoven and Bartók at the Philharmonic
In two years as music director of the New York Philharmonic, Alan Gilbert has established himself as a force for modernism, expanding the appeal of the venerated orchestra through experimental programming and bold initiatives. This week's one-two punch of Bartók's Second Violin Concerto and Beethoven's Eroica Symphony may not be among his most innovative, but it made for one of the strongest concerts of the season.

The Bartók concerto led off the evening, featuring skilled Georgian violinist Lisa Batiashvili in the complex solo part. Bartók conceived an extended monologue for the instrument, interspersed with occasional dialogue between the soloist and the orchestra. He incorporated microtonalities, Hungarian folk-songs and unearthly orchestrations to make an original statement for the violim and orchestra.

Ms. Batiashvili displayed formidable technique, bowing the long legato lines with a smooth action and then leading the listener up dizzying spiral staircases of scales. She doublestopped with speed and authority. As she raced along, the notes on paper sounded like a stream of consciousness, bubbling forth over the orchestra.

Sometimes, the violin would waltz like a frantic Gypsy. At others, it droned like a hurdy-gurdy at a street fair. The slow movement, with the atmospheric, almost impressionist use of low strings and triangle, contained some of the finest music-making of the evening. Throughout, the soloist maintained a complex interaction with Mr. Gilbert and his orchestra, and their rapport was exciting to watch and listen to.

Beethoven's Third Symphony represented a vast expansion of the form. Nearly twice as long as any symphony before it, the Eroica travels a wide range of emotions in its journey. Beethoven wasn't writing program music here, but the opening one-two combination of the questing first movement and the somber funeral march remains a potent experience.

The Philharmonic played this landmark symphony with robust energy, led by a dancing, exhorting Mr. Gilbert. He conducted from memory. Tempos were a little static in the first movement, and the funeral march positively crawled under its own weight. In the final pages before the coda, Mr. Gilbert let his orchestra loose in a paroxysm of minor-key grief that rent the heart.

Beethoven lightened up in the last two movements, although the manic energy of the dance movement seemed almost forced after the funeral march. Although the whirling scherzo was marred by some dodgy tones from the Philharmonic horns, the movement was played with sunny energy and determination to move on from the funeral procession.

The finale, with its pizzicato theme and variations remains one of the most exciting experiences one can have in a concert hall. As the final brass chords of Beethoven's grand second theme rang out, Mr. Gilbert brought this performance to an heroic end.