Customer Reviews

Mahler: Symphony No. 9

5 star:		(4)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

It is my pleasure and honor to be the first to review this recording. To be candid I'm also quite astounded to hold this position as this performance was originally recorded in 1964 and remastered digitally in 1989. It has been available for a very long time. To the best of my knowledge and belief, this was the first recording the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra made of this score, as in the early 1960s Herbert von Karajan performed little or no Mahler, and prior to Karajan, Wilhelm Furtwangler also generally avoided this composer.

To my ears this score has particularly original writing for the string section, ranging from the sparse opening chords - sounding almost like Webern - to the impassioned tutti passages. The BPO strings respond magnificently to the challenge of this score, as do the rest of the orchestra. One almost feels listening to this CD that the BPO players wanted to prove to the world they could play this score as well as the VPO under Bruno Walter, the Concertgebouw, or any other first rank ensemble. Barbirolli's reading is full of the warmth and humanity that marked his performance of the 5th Symphony, and according to the editors of the Penguin Guide he made a very favourable impression on the orchestra. The noble final movement was recorded first. His tempi are neither too slow nor fast, and details in the part-writing are heard to good effect. The sound is perhaps not quite as transparent as Solti's 9th with the Chicago Symphony, but it is excellent. The first Karajan recording of this work with the BPO has somewhat better sound but no better orchestral playing. In any case no allowances need to be made for the age of the recording itself. This performance has also been very generously fitted onto one CD at low to mid-price range. It is a formidable bargain.

Gustav Mahler began work on the Ninth symphony in 1908 and completed it in 1909. Mahler was reluctant to complete the work because of his suspicion that all composers signed their death warrant once they completed their 9th symphony. The demise of Beethoven and Bruckner only helped to confirm this suspicion. Death would indeed strike down Gustav Mahler only two years after he completed this tour de force. Mahler's famous pupil Bruno Walter would give the first performance of the ninth on June 26,1912. The Ninth symphony consists of four movements scored in different keys and presents mans deepest fears with a pungent bare honesty equal to that of a innocent child. Sir John Barbirolli was noted for his profound heartfelt devotion to the music of Gustav Mahler and the Berlin Philharmonic turn out to be the perfect component in this recording. The schizophrenic emotions of the first movement are manifest and striking. Berlin then provides stylish imaginative ensemble work to convey the ludicrous self parody of the second movement and the demented counterpoint of the third movement. The grotesque image of death which defines the final movement is played with a sinister radiant beauty that captivates the senses and makes the heart cry. The horrid creature is unveiled and what a wonderful glory it is. Essential.

Fitted on a single disc and the orchestra being the Berlin Philharmonic and this being a visionary, beautiful, well recorded, and fervently played Mahler 9th, you just can't go wrong with this particular version. Magnificent!!!!

You'd never suspect while listening to Barbirolli's Ninth that Mahler is a difficult composer. The complexity of this symphony is extreme for both conductor and orchestra. That leads many interpreters to over control the music and underline every detail (e.g., Benjamin Zander in his Telarc recording with the Philharmonia). That wasn't Barbirolli's way. Mahler is like Schubert to him, a composer of warmth and unaffected feelings. In his hands the great first movement flows without rhythmic complications. Even the most turbulent eruptions are sweet-sounding. It may not exactly be true to the letter of the score, but how ravishing. (Admitedly, he made other recordings, particularly of the Mahler Sixth, that are not at all genial.)

Likewise, the Scherzo is devoid of satiric edge and emotional extremes. Barbirolli was always good at waltzes and dance music in general. He gives us a quick dance tempo that's almost lilting. Is it right to deprive Mahler of his neurotic polarities? Strictly speaking, no, but the result is sunny and enjoyable. Having gotten this far, you begin to wonder if Barbirolli is going to make nice in the savage Rondo-Burleske, too. As it turns out, he's much less frenetic than anyone else, even Bruno Walter, and with the Berlin Phil. sounding less than virtuosic (they hadn't yet learned the work under Karajan), this is the weakest movement.

Many conductors lean ponderously into the great Adagio, making it sound like end-of-the-world music. Barbirolli goes for less intensity, more natural lyricism. In the singing style he's chosen, the music is still moving, if much less wrenching. At 23 min. his tempo isn't among the slowest, either, so there's no protracted agony of the kind Levine and Bernstein evoke.

In sum, Barbirolli managed to make this music his own just as much as Walter, Bernstein, and Horenstein did. He is the gentlest of the three. EMI's latest remastering of the original analog sound from 1964 is a great improvement, so do buy it instead of the origianl CD shown here.

When this version first came out in 1964, it was enthusiastically greeted by the critics and welcomed among the very best - a list that by general consensus included then only Bruno Walter's two versions (live in 1938, and stereo in 1961) and Jascha Horenstein's mono recording made for Vox in 1952, and was subsequently completed, before the 1970s, by Bernstein (1965), Klemperer and Solti (1967) and Haitink in 69.

Hearing it again, after some years and now more comparative listening, I agree, despite some reservations. EMI producer Walter Legge's staunch support of Klemperer was a great thing of course, since it resulted in a number of landmark recordings and best-sellers from EMI's catalog, but the downside was that it more or less pushed Barbirolli out, at least from the repertoire tackled by Klemperer. It didn't help that the two conductors had much in common, especially a taste for the deliberate and massive (see for instance my review of Barbirolli's Eroica, Symphony 3 / Elizabethean Suite). So the complete Beethoven symphonies with the Philharmonia were given to Klemperer and Barbirolli never got to record the complete cycle, Klemperer did the Bruckners (4 to 9) and the Mahlers (2, 4, 7, 9 and Das Lied), with Barbirolli confined to 5, 6 and 9, and the song cycles with Janet Baker. Yet, where Klemperer was ONLY, in his late years, deliberation and massiveness, Barbirolli could also develop white-heat passion when he wanted. It is an irretrievable loss that EMI hasn't documented it more, outside of Brahms and the English repertoire.

The most notable feature of Barbirolli's interpretation of the first movement is the strong contrasts of tempo, in a way that one would more readily associate with Leonard Bernstein. That's in striking contrast to the "old man's" approach exemplified by the 85-year-old Bruno Walter four years earlier (Mahler: Symphony No. 9 & Rehearsal) or 81-year-old Klemperer three years later (Mahler: Symphony No. 9; Strauss: Metamorphosen; Tod und Verklärung). Barbirolli starts quite deliberately and with a feeling of warmth, but soon exercises an un-prescribed acceleration leading up to the next climax, for the sake of dramatic effect (2:08 to 3:07, measures 29-47). Passion and intensity are clearly set forth as the expressive hallmarks of Barbirolli's interpretation, and from there it doesn't abate. When comes the second section, "etwas frischer" (somewhat crisper) at 5:05, Barbirolli's markedly swifter tempo feels natural, and leads to a very brisk allegro at 5:56 (measure 102), only to be followed by an almost dragging pace in the ensuing slow section (6:06 and after, Tempo I subito) despite Mahler's indication "aber nicht schleppen" (but do not drag). But there is much atmosphere in the whispering, tremulating passage starting at 7:56 (measure 137), and even more so upon its ponderously funeral return at 14:14 (measure 254: "schattenhaft/shadowy" is Mahler's indication here). So you can sure expect Barbirolli's "mit Wut" (10:08, measure 174) to be plenty furious, his "leidenschaftlich" (11:29 measure 211) to be full of passion, his "etwas fliessender" (16:03 measure 279) to let again a surge of passion flow. And conversely it doesn't fail that "sich mässigend" (more measured, 12:44, measure 237), or "einhaltend" (holding back, 17:35, measure 315) give him cues to slam the breaks, and the "schon langsam" (now slow, 12:53, measure 239) or "gehalten" ("held back", 17:53 measure 321), to return to an ominous and highly atmospheric mood of standstill. The movement ends, "schon ganz langsam" (23:30 measure 406) in beautifully appeased atmosphere.

All this is great, but Barbirolli's recording also suffers from a certain lack of instrumental pungency and snap, where other conductors (and listeners) revel in giving full weight and snarling colors to Mahler's myriad details of dynamics, articulation and phrasing. Try for instance the horns, trumpets and trombones in the passage starting at 6:18 (measure 112), sounding here unduly tame. In general the horns especially are so subdued and so often covered by the strings that sometimes it is a matter of guess rather than hearing that they are there at all. The movement's great crashes are so subdued as to make me feel let down (especially at 11:06 measure 202, the second one at 17:30 measure 314 fares better, especially if you can turn up the volume real high). Despite some felicitous details (as the despondently tolling horns with their semi-tone drooping during the "schattenhaft" passage at 14:26, measure 256, or, in general and in all four movements, the fact that Barbirolli was the first I think to really play Mahler's portamento indications at full slide, not only those written for the strings but also the woodwinds), this is not a version that spotlights Mahler's myriad instrumental details (reminding me of the unjustly neglected Leopold Ludwig on Everest, the first stereo version, from 1959, Symphony 9), and I can't tell if it was Barbirolli's doing or the recording team's. Bruno Walter four years earlier was offered by Columbia much more pungent sonics. At any rate, something is amiss to give the music its full impact. Not that it is important, but the first horn of the Berlin Philharmonic forgets to trill at 22:25 measure 389, and a violin enters a beat too soon at 4:35 (measure 71).

Not that the "2002 remastering" improves anything (Mahler: Symphony No.9). I've compared it with this EMI Studio release from 1989, and I've heard no sonic difference whatsoever - admittedly, on my very basic sound system (in fact I've ripped both CDs onto my computer and listened with my Senneheiser headphones - sound's good enough for me, and the downstairs neighbours don't come banging their broomstick on the ceiling). It is also something I remarked with EMI's 2007 remastering of Klemperer's Mahler 9th (see link above), to make me wonder if all this remastering gig isn't just a scam from EMI to suck a few more bucks out of us. And it is not the excellent notes by Michael Kennedy in the 2002 reissue that will make the difference. So unless you have a very high-end sound system which will enable you to hear improvements that elude me, if you have this EMI studio, you don't need to replace it, and if you are looking to buy Barbirolli's 9th, go to the cheapest.

In the Ländler Barbirolli adopts an approach that is at first very similar to Bernstein's a year later (Bernstein's first complete Mahler cycle must now be heard in the recent and truly revelatory Carnegie Hall remastering, Mahler: Complete Symphonies (Carnegie Hall Presents)) and one that again is in contrast with Horenstein's (Mahler: Symphony 9 and Kindertotenlieder / Norman Foster / Jascha Horenstein (2 CDs)) or Walter's (to say nothing of Klemperer's). It starts with a more animated opening tempo, exuding less a feeling of good-humored and pedestrian bonhomie and more one of untarnished playfulness and merriment. Then comes a Tempo II (2:22) with plenty of vigor and drive but not rushed (and Mahler does write "POCO più mosso"), thus allowing for the requisite contrast to be established with the Tempo III (4:52, notated "very slow"). But here, Barbirolli diverges from Bernstein by keeping it quite flowing - too much so to fully convey its mock sentimental charm (and the horn's entry which heralds the section would have called for a retake; here it is awkwardly not in-sync with the violins, and likewise the oboe's and violins' grace notes on the "molto rit." at 5:13, measure 229). And then, due to that relatively brisk Tempo III, Barbirolli doesn't quite establish the contrast with Tempo I when it returns at 8:55 (measure 369); Walter ran into similar problems but for opposite reasons - a slow tempo I. Bernstein's slower Tempo III allowed him to better observe these tempo relationships. Within that framework, Barbirolli is sufficiently observant of Mahler's countless tempo changes, although his "rit." are hardly perceptible, and he really waits for the ensuing "molto rit." to hold back (there are a number of such occasions as the movement unfolds). I also prefer Bernstein's hectic acceleration at (Barbirolli's) 11:33 (measure 497), although Barbirolli's more reined-in approach probably conforms better to Mahler's "allmählich etwas eilend doch nie überhetzt" (progressively somewhat hurried though never hectic). But Barbirolli is more consistent than Bernstein at the return of the Tempo I for the coda (12:00, measure 523).

Also, and unfortunately, although the Berlin musicians seem to be having lots of fun and offer some felicitously humorous phrasings, the relative lack of instrumental pungency, the slightly rounded and softened edges of woodwinds and brass, their lack of crudeness and shrillness - yes, it must have been against the nature of these musicians honed by Karajan - rob the orchestra here again of some of the desired sauciness ("täppisch", "keck", all these indications mean the same). But this it is something you are likely to notice only on careful comparative listening. Until the Carnegie remastering, Bernstein was also less than ideal in that respect, but because of somewhat dulled sonics rather than over-civilized playing; other than horns that remain regrettably covered and loose their sauciness, the recent remastering has set that right; Walter and Klemperer are great, all considerations of tempo notwithstanding. Barbirolli's Rondo-Burleske is rather deliberate but, despite again a slight loss of punch due to some instrumental softened edges (mainly in the first section), it is immensely powerful, even brutal (through sheer punch, not scrappy ensemble or individual instrumental delivery), and suitably nasty-sounding. And that Barbirolli chose to hold back the tempo at 1:55 where Mahler instructs precisely to remain at the same tempo (measure 109) is of little importance. The middle section is strongly contrasted, disciplined in tempo (unlike Bernstein's) and intensely lyrical. For the anecdote, you can hear in some spots that Barbirolli was one of those groaning conductors.

As it should be, the finale is the high point of the recording. Taken at a very deliberate opening tempo (though not quite at the extremes of, later, in 1979, Levine), it develops a scorching, almost unbearable passionate intensity - and here, EMI has managed to give the solo horn the presence, impact and potency it needs. I also love tremendously the way Barbirolli doesn't drag the tempo in the desolate, harp-accompanied section between 12:14 and 13:47 (measures 88-107, "stets immer gehalten", always or still very held back), as others have (Horenstein for instance): rather than underlying an abstract time-suspended atmosphere, here it conveys (to me) a sense of acceptance of the passing of things, as if the "narrator" just looked at the world flow by, in an already detached spirit. I find it immensely moving. Then the strings erupt at full blast ("fliessender doch durchaus nicht eilend", flowing but throughout not rushed) in a burst of passion (and Barbirolli plays the whole passage with tremendous passion), as in a sudden attempt to clinch again at the things of the world. I can't really say that any of the great versions of that finale is better than an other, because when I listen to any - from Walter in 1938, Gustav Mahler: Symphony No. 9 In D Major (Great Recordings of the Century), to Bernstein and Levine both in 1979, Mahler: Symphony No. 9 and Mahler: Symphony No. 9, not precluding any of the later versions that I haven't yet heard - I think it that one is the ultimate. But listening to Barbirolli's finale I think no one can ever better it.

I approached listening again to this recording with an unfavorable bias. I had lukewarm memories of it, from years back (maybe influenced by my lukewarm response to Barbirolli's famed 5th Symphony - but that's another review). My memories were wrong. Five stars? That would be a little too much in view of the Berliners' relative lack of sonic pungency, and the reservations I have about Barbirolli's Ländler. I've also given four stars to Walter, Klemperer and Ancerl (no more authorized product links, but it has four entries on this website), all fine-to-great versions, but none either without this or that shortcoming, and three to Bernstein's 1965 New York recording, a sometimes exceptionable, often outstanding version, because of its dulled, cottony sonics - but the Carnegie Hall remastering gets a fourth star. But in view of Barbirolli's finale, it is only very reluctantly that I give his version only four stars.