Gustav MAHLER (1860-1911)
 Symphony No. 7 in E minor (1905)
 Budapest Festival Orchestra/Iván Fischer
 rec. 2015, Palace of Arts, Budapest
 Reviewed as a stereo DSD128 download from
    
        NativeDSD
    
 Pdf booklet included
 CHANNEL CLASSICS CCSSA38019 SACD
    [74:45] 
	
    It’s those London buses again: you wait ages for a No. 7 and three turn up 
	in quick succession. Ádám Fischer’s, with the Düsseldorfer Symphoniker, 
	arrived first (C-Avi), followed by Mariss Jansons and the Concertgebouw (RCO Live). Now we have this one, from Ádám’s brother Iván and the Budapest
    orchestra. The latter’s cycle, years in the making, seems to be at an end,
    even though it doesn’t include the Eighth and Tenth; Ádám’s still has a way
    to go, with Nos. 1, 3-5 and 7 completed thus far. And, as part of their own
    Mahler projects, we can expect Sevenths from Thierry Fischer (no relation)
    in Salt Lake City (Reference), Osmo Vänskä in Minneapolis (BIS), Daniel
    Harding in Stockholm and François-Xavier Roth in Cologne (both Harmonia
    Mundi).
 
    As expected, there’s plenty of competition. I particularly admire Michael
    Gielen’s Seventh - the 1993 Baden-Baden one for Hänssler, not the Berlin
    remake for
    
        Testament
    
    - as it really draws the listener deep into Mahler’s unsettling
    soundscapes. Indeed, if you’re looking for a good all-round recording pf
    the work, secure in its idiom and certain of its goal, then this should be
    on your shortlist. (It’s now included in Vol. 6 of SWR’s
    
        Michael Gielen Edition.) That said, I’m still very fond of Claudio Abbado’s Chicago/DG Seventh;
    it’s just so engaging, with a buoyancy and wit that I don’t always 
	sense in his Berlin and Lucerne versions. As for Leonard Bernstein’s two New 
	York recordings, for CBS-Sony and DG, I find his earlier take rather less 
	eccentric than his later one. And then there’s Otto Klemperer’s (in)famous 
	New Philharmonia recording from the 1960s; at 100 minutes it shouldn’t work, 
	but I think it does (EMI-Warner).
 
    Now, given that Ádám and Iván have both recorded the Seventh, I was sorely
    tempted to set up a ‘head to head’ between them. Alas, the former’s
    performance, well played and recorded, simply fails to convey the score’s
    abiding strangeness, its quirks and quiddities. That’s probably why a
    venerable Gramophone critic dissed Jansons’ new RCO version;
    granted, it’s not the most probing account of this intriguing piece, but
    the Latvian’s lightness of touch ought not to be confused with
    superficiality. Indeed, this conductor is seldom this affable and
    communicative, and that yields many unexpected rewards. It’s also
    magnificently presented, the RCO confirmed as one of the world’s truly
    great Mahler bands.
 
    As for Iván, I’ve not always been persuaded by his Mahler, but 
	given the extraordinary range of this repertoire it would be a miracle if I 
	were. That said, I treasure his easeful, wonderfully transparent Budapest 
	Fourth, successfully reprised with the Concertgebouw a few years later (RCO Live). But his recent
    
        BFO Third,
    actually recorded a year after the Seventh, is in another league
    entirely. Such are the revelations in this oft-played and much-loved work,
    it goes straight to the top of the tree. Not surprisingly, I made it one of
    my Recordings of the Year for 2017. It’s worth noting that Roth’s Gürzenich
    performance belongs there too (Harmonia Mundi).
 
    Of course, the Seventh is a very different piece, with its own set of
    challenges. Iván’s first movement is spaciously conceived, with a full-fat
    tenorhorn, alert phrasing and a pleasing sense of purpose. His strikes me
    as a considered approach, in every sense of the word, but that’s not so
    suggest it’s without nuance or character. Some may prefer a freer, more
    seamless line, but at least there’s no shortage of ear-pricking incident.
    Hein Dekker and Jared Sacks’s judiciously balanced, ‘hear through’
    recording is a great asset in this respect, Mahler’s smaller, easy-to-miss
    epiphanies beautifully caught. As for the playing, it’s beyond reproach,
    with ravishing harps and well-blended Wagnerian brass. Iván’s opener also
    seems darker than some, but then, like Gielen, he doesn’t shrink from the
    music’s equivocations; in short,, he forges a much tougher, more absorbing
    narrative here than most.
 
    The first Nachtmusik is nicely pointed, with some lovely
will-o’-the-wisp contributions from the woodwinds. What a gallimaufrey of    frisson-inducing orchestral effects, all combined into a most
    compelling whole. At this point, I must concede that, as much as I like
    RCO/Jansons, Iván trumps him at every turn. Take that weird, wall-eyed
    central movement, for instance, which the Hungarian paces, shapes and
    animates to perfection. The second Nachtmusik, articulated with real
    affection, is no less alluring, its Wunderhorn echoes especially
    evocative. It’s all delivered with a fluid confidence, rooted in a profound
    ‘connection’ with the composer’s oeuvre. Gielen displays comparable wit and
    insight, although the German players aren’t as polished as their Hungarian
    counterparts; the Hänssler/SWR recording, although decent, isn’t as
    revealing, either.
 
    Watching Iván in the concert hall, one can see that he really enjoys
    what he does - no faux seriousness here - and that shines through in
    his natural, rather liberating response to this varied score. His
    comprehensive skill set includes a keen sense of shape and a good ear for inner
    detail, both essential here. Even more remarkable is his ability to linger
    just a little, to examine carefully what he finds, without compromising
    pulse or line. That’s particularly true of the ‘night music’, the second
    strand of which fades quite magically at the end. Iván rounds off with a
    rousing but well-disciplined finale. And what a sunny summation it is,
    those bucolic bells - heard as if across verdant pastures - more uplifting
    than ever. Happily, the sound is superb, without ever calling attention to
    itself.
 
    We’re only three months into 2019, and, much to my surprise and delight,
    I’ve rediscovered two great symphonies. But the all-encompassing excellence
    of Iván’s (and Roth’s) latest is a depressing reminder of how many dull
    Mahler recordings there are, quite a few of which have come my way in
    recent years. No, that’s a debate for another day; right now, it’s time to
    celebrate!
 
    Iván follows his revitalising Third with a similarly talented Seventh; as
    before, the engineering is first rate.
 
    Dan Morgan