Customer Reviews

Mahler: Symphony No. 9 & Rehearsal

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In a world seemingly saturated with young, angry Mahler conductors; and dark, brooding Mahler interpreters; there has never been a better conductor of the music of Gustav Mahler than Bruno Walter. Why, Mahler himself would have no other conducter premeire his two greatest-and final-works: Das Leid von Der Erde, and this, his Ninth Symphony. We might get a fairly accurate account of his premeire performance by listening to his legendary (and newly reissued) recording with the Vienna Philharmonic, but we should never neglect to couple that recording with this one. The contrasts are phenomenal. Whereas he once conducted a work of hate and anger in the shadow of the Third Reich, he here conducts a work of refinement and poignancy. Walter conducts Mahler like Beethoven, and there is nothing in the world wrong with that. The tempos are remarkably slower than his Vienna interpertation, and not merely because he is eighty four. You see, he infuses the whole work with an almost weightless, ethereal quality. He pulls remarkable sounds out of an Orchestra that-if hardly virtuostic-seems to have been made for him; it was. He presents us with a piece not merely hinting at Schoenberg, but founded in Bach. It is silly to laud all the various independant attributes of this recording, because it needs to be taken as a whole. No sound clips or great solos would truely represent this most cohesive of interpretations. Of course, this Ninth should not stand alone in your library. There are other amazing Ninth's: von Karajan's live recording with the Berlin, Walter's Vienna reading, and-so I am assured-Bernstein did a pretty appealing version as well. But your library-if you appreciate the accomplishments of either Mahler or Walter-should in no way be without this transcendent reading. No less a historic document than the Vienna recording, as this is a tribute to two great men so eleqouent that only the music of Gustav Mahler could aptly articualte it.

Having owned, at one time or another, about two dozen different recordings of Mahler's last completed symphony, I guess you'd say I've "heard it all," from Bernstein's tortured angst to Karajan's Olympian calm. But it's hard to imagine a greater contrast between two performances of the Ninth than Bruno Walter achieved. His 1938 world-premiere recording, cut live (on 78-rpm discs) in Vienna a few weeks before the Nazis took over, is as emotionally raw as his 1961 remake is serene and spiritual.

But is "serene and spiritual" a valid interpretation of a dark, frequently dissonant work which concludes with the composer seemingly anticipating his own death? It is if you accept Walter's statement that the Mahler Ninth is filled with "a sanctified feeling of departure." This doesn't mean that Walter soft-pedals the music's implications--it's just that he doesn't wallow in them. The resigned despair that other conductors (notably Bernstein, especially in his Amsterdam Concertgebouw recording) emphasize as the "bottom line" of this symphony just doesn't square with the hope expressed by Mahler's brief quotation, in the finale, of a phrase from one of his "Kindertotenlieder," as the bereaved parent envisions his dead children transfigured in heaven. Mahler was a deeply spiritual man, and a bereaved parent himself by the time he composed the Ninth, so that quotation's implication of belief in an afterlife justifies the ray of affirmation Walter shines into the finale. By the way, his finale at 21 minutes is among the fastest on records (maybe a shade too brusque), and is too imbued with stoic nobility to wring our tear ducts. (Although that's not necessarily a good thing.)

It's not the most doom-laden Mahler Ninth, or the most tearful, or the most dramatic, or even the most texturally transparent, and probably doesn't present the greatest contrast between the symphony's bitter and sweet aspects. It isn't the most immaculately played, either, although the hand-picked Columbia Symphony delivers what Walter was looking for. But it just may be the most faithful to the life-affirming spirit (yes, life-affirming--time to quit generalizing Mahler as an overwrought, death-obsessed Gloomy Gus) that animates the Ninth and Mahler's music as a whole. That said, it's a little perverse that the writer of the CD's liner notes disparages Walter's overall approach.

This isn't always cited as one of the greatest Mahler 9ths out there, which surprises me. Walter has a reputation for smoothing Mahler over and minimizing the intensity, but this is one earth-shaking recording, with triple fortissimos and pianissimos, and a heart-rending reading that contains all of Mahler's sadness, nostalgia and joy. My only (mild) complaint is I'd prefer a bit more of a raucous third movement, but that's probably because Bernstein is ringing in my ears. Two of the biggest moments, the first movement opening tutti and the shattering fourth movement climax (where the trombones of the Berlin Philharmonic famously held out on Bernstein) are brought off here with more power and conviction than I've ever heard before, and special mention goes to the orchestra's timpanist, whomever he was. I'm not sure how much attention should be paid to the fact that Walter was Mahler's understudy. Willem Mengelberg also learned Mahler's works "at his knee" so to speak (though not in the official capacity of student), yet his interpretations of Mahler, judging by what he's left us, are so different from Walter's as to bear no relation. I don't think it's a matter of Walter's relationship to Mahler; I think it's simply that Walter was a great conductor period, at least in the Germanic tradition, whether the composer was Mozart, Mahler, or Beethoven. Certainly this 9th is a testament to a great musical mind.

The accompanying rehearsal commentary, while not up to the standard of Walter's rehearsals of Mozart and Beethoven Symphonies with the Columbia Symphony, is interesting nevertheless. Walter was a master at getting musicians to do what he wanted as they played, without having to stop after every twenty bars, and the players loved him for it. The radio interview is fascinating--Walter talking about his earliest experiences both in the recording studio and with his mentor Mahler. I have listened to this conversation countless times and still find it interesting.

Sound is very good for the period. The presentation is fine, the price is right, and this recording stands up to Haitink, Barbirolli, Bernstein and Karajan. What are you waiting for?

To me, it is no mystery that Gustav Mahler dedicated his Ninth Symphony to the conductor Bruno Walter, and entrusted to him its' premiere performance. This great studio, stereo recording offers such justification. While many conductors have tried valiantly to convey the deep, inner message of Mahlers' Ninth, it is obvious in this recording that no one is more capable than Walter-he is truly at one with this work. A vast improvement in many ways upon his previous 1938 effort, the improved sound quality more successfully captures the atmosphere, and the vast forces, that Mahler utilises in this massive,musical testament.
It is such a sensitive interpretation, and properly conveys the immense complexity of the mind of its' creator. Mahler obviously was dealing with many truly important issues-a farewell to life, written by someone who had not long to live, and a look in the direction of what may lie beyond mortal life-it is all here. Subsequent recordings, like those by Klemperer, Bernstein, Karajan and Solti, just do not add up to this effort. Truly one of Bruno Walters' greatest recordings, of a work that is clearly Mahlers' greatest. Dr. Walters' studio recordings of both Bruckner and Mahler prove that he was their greatest interpreter-absolutely!

In the 9th, Walter keeps Mahler's beautifully flowing lines and subtleties intact throughout the performance and there's an enduring sense of spiritual uplift. Mahler creates the feeling of his seeming departure from the world -- a performance not to be missed by dedicated lovers of this astonishingly original composer. Walter knew Mahler personally and talks about his relationship to the man as well as the musical differences between Mahler and Bruckner and the impact that Bruckner had on Mahler (and not the other way around). Fascinating. It opens up a new understanding and appreciation of both highly influential composers. This is an unbelievable performance that reminds this listener of one long and infinitely profound cosmic dance, full of never ending colors and unlimited musical ideas. For me it's like the summation of every great piece of music that I've had the good fortunate to hear in a life-time. Stunning.

I also highly recommend Walter's performance of Mahler's 1st and 2nd symphonies -- very idiomatic of Mahler and the authentic way Walter feels these great works should be played.

I own:

(1) Bernstein's Berlin account
(2) Boluez + Chicago
(3) Masur + NYPO
(4) Tennstedt + LPO
(5) Hans Zender + Saarbucken Orch.
(6) Bernstein + NYPO
(7) Mitropolous + VPO
(8) Karajan + BPO

This is a performance of unearthly acuity. It is not gnawed from the depths of human emotion (Bernstein) nor is it austere and fragmented (Boulez). It is instead endowed with a nobility which, much like Tennstedt's reading, leaves the listener not emotinally exhausted, but emtionally invigorated instead.
A must have, it got me through studying for the LSAT!

Bruno Walter had a special legitimacy in this work, Mahler's last completed symphony. He was, when the symphony was composed (between the summer of 1908 and the winter of 1909/10) Mahler's favorite disciple, there were long exchanges of correspondence between them, and finally he premiered the work, after Mahler's death, on June 26, 1912 (incidentally, the editorial review's claim that "it was to Bruno Walter that Mahler entrusted the score of his Ninth Symphony in the autumn of 1910, knowing that he himself would not live to conduct the premiere" is pure fairy-tale. As Henry-Louis de la Grange recounts in his mammoth Mahler biography, in the autumn of 1910 Mahler, far from being ill, was very active conducting the season of the New York Philharmonic and hoped to live still many years, firmly opposing any plans for anybody but himself to premiere his new works, when he chose to do so; he caught the angina which would soon develop into a fatal heart infection in January 1911, and when it became clear that his condition risked to be fatal, he was too ill to entrust the score to anyone). Walter also made the premiere recording of the symphony, live with the Vienna Philharmonic, in 1938 (Gustav Mahler: Symphony No. 9 In D Major (Great Recordings of the Century)).

So there is a direct line between Walter and the composer, although I wouldn't push the argument too far. Henry-Louis de la Grange doesn't record that there were any discussions between them on the score as there was with Das Lied von der Erde, and although there are reasons to argue that Walter's 1938 recording is indeed closer than any subsequent one to what the symphony might have been under the composer's own baton (mainly on account of the very swift tempos in the outer movements, and the fiery intensity that results), that recording was made almost thirty years after any (undocumented) conversation that may have occurred between the two men at the time of the work's composition, and a quarter century after Walter premiered it in 1912. And this stereo remake, made in January 1961 (Walter's last recording session was made on March 31 of the same year, and he died on February 17 of 1962), is even further removed in time from the original events. It also shows a significant change in Walter's approach to the piece.

Critics have been split over the respective merits of this remake and Walter's premiere recording of the 9th, while usually recognizing the virtues of both. On the other hand, I remember hearing an interview of Zubin Mehta, who had been present at the 1961 recording sessions, disparaging it, on account of the fact that, for financial reasons, Columbia/CBS had pathetically afforded Walter only half of the necessary strings (searching on the net to substantiate my claim about Mehta's comments, I see that they are reproduced, in very much the same words as I had heard, on universal's website. He adds that the members of the Columbia SO sight-read, and chides the critics for praising to such an extent a version that was the result, according to him, of mere sight-reading. See the comments section for the link). Well, whatever the process, Mehta must not have listened to the results.

Certainly, the 1938 version is a major musical statement, and one that is entirely unique in its approach, paralleled in its brisk tempos and fiery intensity by no subsequent version (only Scherchen, in a recording made for the Austrian radio in 1950 but published only in 1990, pushed the Walter approach to the point almost of caricature. See my review of Mahler: Symphony No. 9). But its constricted sonics are a big limitation, especially in the first movement with its intricate contrapuntal writing, much of which gets lost (horns and woodwinds especially). Now jump 23 years. First thing to strike your ears are the great stereo sonics. Note that I have, not the present reissue, but the first Western CD release, made in 1985 by a company that was still called CBS and was not yet Japanese (Symphony 9)), so I can't comment on any improvement made on the occasion of this reissue. Anyway, the 1985 transfer was already great, with only very moderate tape hiss, clear definition of every instrumental line, and great pungency and instrumental character in the brass and woodwinds. The sonics of CBS's first reissue (from 1986) of Bernstein's 9th, recorded four years later, were not as good (Symphonies 7, 9 & ,10 " Adagio ").

Then: half the necessary strings, Zubin? I don't hear that in the least. If it was so, then it has allowed great clarity and transparency of every string line (essential especially in the outer movements, with their antiphonal writing for first and second violins). Yet the strings also have plenty of power when needed. But Walter's 1961 version isn't only outstanding sonically, it is also an account that deserves to be acknowledged musically.

What one hears immediately in the first movement is, in the way the violin phrases are molded, the expression of Walter's unique goodness and lovingness. But Walter isn't just loving and mellow, mind you. Listen how the brass crash in at 19:33 in the first movement "mit höchster Gewalt" (measure 314), "with the strongest force" (or violence): it is devastating. Common critical wisdom is that, due to its pick up nature, the so-called Columbia Symphony Orchestra was no match to the New York Philharmonic with which Walter had done his first recordings for Columbia, in the 1940s and 1950s. With my ears only to judge (and not any reverence to an orchestra's stature, or any knowledge of what went on during the recording process), I couldn't agree less: I've often found the 1950s New Yorkers to be a sloppy band, lacking crispness and ensemble, and the Columbia SO appears here as in other recordings of Walter as a virtuoso ensemble, playing with precision, snap and vigor, abetted by the great sonics. Sight-reading, Zubin? Many orchestras couldn't play like that even after 10 rehearsals.

Is anything missing? Yes, Walter underplays the contrasts of tempo in the first movement, keeping everything too much in an allegro moderato tempo. "Etwas frisher" (somewhat brisker) at 5:45, "fliessend" (flowing) at 6:05, "allegro" at 6:59: these hardly register, the allegro risoluto "mit Wut" (with fury) at 11:37 is hardly risoluto and furious, the "Leidenschaftlich" passage at 13:35 could have been more passionate and animated. This is too invariably deliberate. I doubt however that any of this has to do with "sight-reading", but rather with Walter's old age, frailty and approaching death. Not so much a case of the body not able any more to convey what the mind conceived (as perhaps Klemperer in his final time), but a mind turned unresponsive to these brusque Mahlerian shifts and surges of passion. But Walter's "suddenly very measured and held-back" at 8:38 (measure 130), which he perceptibly holds back, has great character, and overall his orchestra's instrumental pungency makes up to a large extent for his relative lack of drive.

The same is true with the two, fast, loud and rambunctious middle movements: Walter may have been an old, weakened man nearing death when this recording was made, but the Ländler and Rondo-Burleske amply compensate in power, vigor and extraordinary instrumental pungency what they loose in sheer forward drive, in an approach strikingly close to Horenstein's in his 1952 recording for Vox (Mahler: Symphony 9 and Kindertotenlieder / Norman Foster / Jascha Horenstein (2 CDs)). In fact, Walter's conception of the Ländler hasn't changed much since 1938, just a little more expansive and lacking a measure of savagery at 7:19 (measure 261) with the return of the tempo II ("but a little faster than the first time", indicates Mahler, and Walter doesn't observe) and again at 12:24 (measure 423), but the sonics are incomparably better than his own in 1938 and Horenstein's in 1952, and again the orchestra compensates for the occasional lack of drive with a lot of punch. While still favoring a very laid-back and easy-going view of the opening section and Tempo I (Barbirolli in 1964, Mahler: Symphony No. 9, and Bernstein in 1965 provided a valid alternative, with a considerably brisker Tempo I, less good-natured and more exultant), Walter has a better grasp than in 1938 of the tricky tempo change from tempo III to tempo I at 6:04 (measure 230), but he still doesn't do anything of the "fliessend" (flowing) at 7:03 (measure 256) - a small detail that counts for nothing in view of the movement's charm and irresistible instrumental character, which no other version in the 1960s has equalled (only Klemperer came close): just listen to the earthy and clumsy ("schwerfällig") vigor of the 2nd violins upon their first entry at 0:19, and the extraordinary pungency of the saucy ("keck") horn immediately after (0:27). In the Rondo-Burleske Walter's conception HAS changed significantly compared to 1938, now going less for sheer forward drive (and his observance of Mahler's double acceleration in the finale is very minimal), but again he amply makes up with the power, the vigor, the instrumental character, the extraordinary intensity. What a din! Walter (like Bernstein after him) doesn't exactly observe Mahler's score when applying Mahler's required slow down at the movement's B section ("etwas gehalten", somewhat held back) right at its entry at 6:23 (announced by violin tremolos and flute fluttertongues, measure 347) rather than eight measures later as prescribed. It was already so in 1938.

Walter's 1961 finale may have added a few minutes to his earlier recording (21:02 to 18:06), it is still, by any previous and subsequent standard, a brisk and flowing approach (compare to Horenstein's 25:11 in 1952 or Bernstein's 22:55 in 1965, to say nothing of Levine's extreme 29:48 in 1979, Mahler: Symphony No. 9). But it is a tribute to Mahler's genius that I have rarely heard a recording here, be it the extremes of Walter 1938 or Levine 1979, that didn't convey the scorching intensity of the music, evidently not so much a function of tempo (slow or fast) as of intensity of bowing (Mahler instructs the strings to play with "grosser ton", big tone), of a sense of desolation in the more sparsely orchestrated passages, of the conductor's ability to bring devastating power to the climaxes. In that respect, I find Walter wanting only at 12:27 (measure 107), when the strings re-enter at full blast, in a more flowing tempo, after a long passage of bareness conveying the sense of an Abschied (farewell) to the world. The ensuing climax, at 13:25 (measure 118), with the horns and trumpets playing bells up, is as blistering as anyone's, but again Walter lets the intensity sag on the long held, fff string chords at 13:45 (measure 122).

This may not be, now, fifty years later, among the best versions of Mahler's 9th that you can get, but it is still an excellent version with which nobody will go wrong or get a distorted view of the composition, and it remains one of the essential milestones in the history of the symphony's recordings, a long list that list begins with (but is not limited to) Walter 1938, Horenstein 1952, the neglected Leopold Ludwig in 1959 (Symphony 9), Barbirolli and Kondrashin (Gustav Mahler Symphony No. 9 in D Major) in 1964, Bernstein in 1965.

In 1961 when the 84-year-old Bruno Walter made this recording, he was still the caretaker of Mahler's reputation among the general public. Bernstein was just beginning the rediscovery of Mahler that would sweep an obscure, often denigrated composer to the very heights of populairty. But without Walter we wouldn't have those links of musical tradition that are so vital to style, mood, and emotional integrity.

Compared to his legendary 1938 recording made for EMI in Vienna with the Nazis hard on his heels, Walter added three minutes to each movement. Even so, his Adagio at 21 min. is among the fastest ever recorded, making the 18 min. in Vienna impossibly rushed. But that whole performance is hectic and scrappy. It's great as an event and a testament, not so great as sheer music.

The Columbia Sym., a pickup group of Los Angeles free-lancers for the most part, plays the score better than the Vienna Phil. of 23 years previous (only two decades but a historical world away). The recording venue had good acoustics, and the Columbia engineers caught a full, faithful reproduciton of Walter's reading. It isn't incredibly detailed or nuanced, there is no striving for exaquisite pianissimos or overwhelming eathquakes in the climaxes. What we hear is authenticity, an emotional rightness that may or may not be close to Mahler's own. But since Walter was born in 1876, just a century after American independence, we are assured of his genuine link to Mahler's musical world. A one-of-a-kind performance that everyone should own who loves this work.

Incidentally, amazon seems to feel that this set is out of print--it isn't.

I think, this is the best recording of Mahler's 9 available.

Bruno Walter is still well known with his Mahler interpretations, and this is his one of the most beatiful recordings. His favourite orchestra Columbia Symphony Orchestra (they are Hollywood's studio musicians) is amazing

Very highly recommended!

Walter's interpretations must, I think, always be given the benefit of the doubt since he knew Mahler, personally, far better than any other conductor who ever made recordings.
I just listened to this 9th for the first time and I believe that this is the greatest interpretation I have ever heard. Less emotionally intense, perhaps, than Bernstein's ... but emotional reserve can, as it does here, bring with it a depth that flighty extremes lack.
Of much less consequence, I was also pleasantly surprised that the audio quality of this recording is superb.
No complaints on any front, a solid five stars.