In the summer of 1904, when the Sixth Symphony was 
          emerging from Mahler’s composing hut, life was very sweet for the Mahlers 
          and yet Gustav himself was mapping Downfall. Alone among his symphonies 
          this one ends in total negation after a last movement in which Humanity 
          and its very condition seems to be "dramatised" in music. 
          Like all great artists Mahler could see beneath the surface of life 
          and, in spite of his current situation, map the opposite. So the Sixth 
          is one of the great "human condition" works of the twentieth 
          century. 
        
 
        
I also find it appropriate that the 1906 premiere took 
          place in Essen, the cradle of German industry. Those march rhythms, 
          mechanistic percussion and harsh-edged contrasts in the first two movements 
          share a kinship with where the work was first heard among the foundries 
          that would build the guns to spill the blood (Bismarck’s "blood and 
          iron") in World War One eight years later. So this is a twentieth century 
          symphony breathing as much the same air as Krupp as of Freud. Its concerns 
          are those of our time too because our time was formed as much in the 
          furnaces of Essen as it was in the consulting rooms of Vienna. Indeed 
          the liner notes to this new Herbig recording fascinatingly quote a review 
          of that 1906 premier that actually named the Sixth the "Krupp-Sinfonie". 
        
 
        
Yet the Sixth is also the most classically conceived 
          of them all. The only conventional, four movements, one key symphony 
          that Mahler wrote, and that is central to its message too. This fierce 
          classical structure implies the same creative detachment demanded 
          by classical tragedy. I believe that any performance that will make 
          us appreciate its crucial Modernism has to take this into account as 
          well. Strip Mahler of nineteenth century sonorities and folk memories 
          and project, as on a bright stage, a bitter and unforgiving elegy that 
          opens out the tragedy into something universal though held at one remove 
          to reinforce Tragedy’s universality and contemporary relevance. Only 
          that way is the ultimate aim of classical tragedy, Purgation or Catharsis, 
          then achieved. 
        
 
        
I am aware this is something of a controversial view 
          at odds with those who believe conductors of this work should try to 
          reflect in their interpretation that which they hear in the music rather 
          than err on the side of letting the music largely speak for itself. 
          But I’ll stick to my guns. This work must be framed by a wide degree 
          of creative detachment for it to make its real effect. This way it will 
          retain its power rather than dissipate it in bluster and hamming, as 
          it does under Tennstedt, for example. So for us to get closer to the 
          full implications of the Sixth I believe we must turn to the handful 
          of conductors who take this more circumspect, symphonically-aware approach, 
          essentially the Modernist approach, and I believe Gunter Herbig is among 
          them. As too, in slightly differing degrees, are Jascha Horenstein, 
          Georg Szell (Sony SBK47654), Pierre Boulez (DG 445 835-2), Michael Gielen 
          (Hännsler CD 93.029) whose recording I reviewed recently: 
        
 
        
http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2002/Mar02/Mahler6.htm 
        
 
        
and, most notable of all, Thomas Sanderling whose great 
          recording I write about extensively in my survey of Mahler Sixth recordings: 
        
 
        
http://www.musicweb-international.com/Mahler/Mahler6.htm 
        
 
        
where I nominate it my favourite. 
        
 
          Unlike a lot of issues from Berlin Classics and its parent company Edel 
          this Herbig recording is not a reissue but a "live" performance 
          given in Saarbrücken in 1999. Like many "live" performances 
          gains markedly from the feeling of "concert hall theatre" 
          but with very few of the drawbacks. There are very few mistakes in the 
          playing and the audience is well behaved and attentive. In many ways 
          it reminds me of the recording by Georg Szell and the Cleveland Orchestra, 
          also made "live". Herbig shares Szell’s essentially dark-grained 
          vision but, most importantly, also his appreciation of how necessary 
          it is to see that darkness against those passages of light that do penetrate. 
          Only by showing us what our universal hero is going to lose can we appreciate 
          the magnitude of that loss when it finally comes. This is most important 
          in the third movement that under both men emerges as a real Andante, 
          not a slightly laboured near Adagio as it does, for example, under Michael 
          Tilson Thomas in his recent San Francisco version (SFS MEDIA 821936-0001-2) 
          which I reviewed recently too: 
        
 
        
http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2002/May02/Mahler6_MTT.htm 
        
 
        
Herbig and Szell allow the music of the Andante to 
          unfold without mannerism. Under Herbig, however, there is an ounce or 
          two more feeling that just evades Szell. Interestingly, both also leave 
          out the first movement exposition repeat and you need to be aware of 
          this when considering Herbig’s recording. However, as both recordings 
          were never originally intended for CD release this cannot be so they 
          could be fitted on one disc which is the impression I received from 
          Yoel Levi’s version, for example. The liner notes explain that Herbig 
          dropped the repeat because in the first half of this concert he gave 
          "Kindertotenlieder". So maybe it was considered the 
          concert would have been too long with the repeat. Though since the repeat 
          lasts around five minutes that seems rather puzzling. Whatever the reason 
          for leaving the repeat out, though I do believe it should always 
          be played, as with Szell I don’t think losing it damages Herbig’s performance 
          at all. His view of the first movement is on the grim and determined 
          side and not hearing the repeat adds to the performance’s sense of "getting 
          on with it" which brings its own dividends. 
        
 
        
In the first movement the overall approach to tempo 
          seems to me to satisfy admirably Mahler’s apparently ambiguous demands. 
          It possesses both the forward momentum of the "Allegro energico" 
          but enough trenchancy to cope with the "ma non troppo" 
          that in turn allows the German sub-heading "Heftig, aber markig" 
          ("Vehement, but pithy") to really tell. The latter 
          is, of course, more a "mood marking" than a tempo marking 
          and Herbig seems to read Mahler’s intentions with a rare and potent 
          intelligence. The mood is certainly grim and determined, as I said earlier, 
          but there is also a confidence, almost optimism, at the outset of the 
          journey towards tragedy that is compelling. What is more remarkable 
          again is that the constituent parts of the Exposition fit together seamlessly 
          with the "Schwungvoll" marking for the second subject 
          "Alma portrait" weighted just enough to let the passage emerge 
          with nobility but not hold up the progress of the argument. Note here 
          the excellent balancing of the orchestra’s sections so that the woodwinds 
          against the brass really sound distinctively edged. Contrapuntal detailing 
          everywhere else is clear too – celeste, woodwind alone and percussion 
          taps. Then in the Development Herbig’s delivery of the pastoral, cow-bell-accompanied 
          central section is cool and glacial, a ghostly pre-echo of the opening 
          of the fourth movement showing Herbig’s grasp of the bigger picture. 
          Note too the plangent woodwinds and the solo horn: expressive but within 
          bounds. This particular passage stays in the mind, which it has to since 
          it is one of the few times in this symphony when real, uncomplicated 
          light is let in on the gloom before the march imperative returns for 
          the Recapitulation. This latter is made more terrible here by the way 
          Herbig makes it seem to "mirror-image" the Exposition. But 
          after that the Coda is optimistic again. Launched from the wonderfully 
          heavy brass comes a message of hope not despair. As you can tell, Herbig 
          in fact covers a long a wide span of feeling. 
        
 
        
The scherzo is placed second and the main material 
          has the same energetic thrust of the first movement but with the same 
          accompanying downforce to take in the "Wuchtig" ("Heavy") 
          marking Mahler asks for. Again the balance by Herbig is true. The trio 
          sections with Mahler’s ironic marking "Altvaterisch" 
          (literally "Old father-like" or "old-fashioned") 
          have the kind of mordancy that put me in mind of Otto Klemperer. Even 
          though Klemperer never conducted this work I wonder if these passages 
          would have sounded a little like this if he had. Herbig also attends 
          to the special rhythmic games contained in this movement. All the little 
          jumps and skips Alma Mahler maintained were her small children playing 
          in the sand are delivered well, but Herbig doesn’t use too heavy a hand 
          on them, like Levine or Tennstedt do. As always, Herbig’s judgement 
          is appropriate. However, this does not stop him making his brass players 
          reach down into the murky depths for those extraordinary passages of 
          Berg-like pre-echo. Thomas Sanderling is even more remarkable in this 
          movement, by the way. Blessed with the finer orchestra he manages to 
          project an even weirder experience overall. But Herbig comes closer 
          to his achievement than many do. 
        
 
        
When I recently reviewed Michael Tilson Thomas’s San 
          Francisco version I drew attention to his slower-than-usual overall 
          tempo for the Andante. To me it seemed designed to turn this into a 
          conventional slow movement. Inappropriately so, I thought, though I 
          forgave Tilson Thomas, working as he was under the terrible shadow of 
          9/11 just twenty-four hours previous to the recording. But I am convinced 
          that Mahler had something subtler in mind and Herbig clearly seems to 
          believe this as well because this is one of the quickest accounts on 
          record, almost as fast as Szell’s. This music is always just a step 
          or two short of kitsch and it takes a firm hand like Herbig’s 
          to stop it descending into it. For an example of how good this movement 
          sounds under Herbig I would point to the central climax which is intensely 
          moving for its simple honesty and complete lack of overheating that 
          makes me admire Herbig even more. Here is a fine example of a conductor 
          who is self-effacing enough and confident enough in the music to let 
          the music make its own effect – the art that conceals the art. The cowbells 
          recall the first movement and there is a lovely "outdoor" 
          feel all through. Played like this it all emerges as a simple "song 
          without words" with kinship to the "Kindertotenlieder" 
          and more than enough respite from the fray of the rest to give us pause 
          for reflection before the final drama of the last movement. 
        
 
        
Throughout the fourth movement Herbig’s grasp of the 
          symphonic logic that he has established from the first bar of the first 
          movement never fails him. Each ushering in by the upward sweep of the 
          violins of the unfolding four-part drama is almost as pointed as it 
          is under Thomas Sanderling. In the extraordinary opening passage the 
          clear and unfussy recording balance allows you to hear everything in 
          proper proportion, as it does too in the passage at 237-270 after the 
          second violin uprush brings in effectively the Development. This recalls 
          near-perfectly the pastoral interlude back in the first movement’s Development 
          section, so stressing symphonic logic again but also with the nagging, 
          worrying interpolations of new fourth movement material. This way Herbig 
          also communicates Mahlerian kaleidoscope. The build up to the first 
          hammer, which comes almost straight afterwards, takes place with admirable 
          but unforced inevitability and the hammer itself is well-placed and 
          distinctive. I also liked very much the way Herbig delivers the crucial 
          "whipped" passage (299-457) with the right amount of lift 
          and pressing forward. Tennstedt, for example, weighs this passage down 
          far too much where it is crucial we have the effect that our "hero" 
          is still alive and kicking, still with is head up. 
        
 
        
Herbig and the orchestra give a towering performance 
          of the Recapitulation up to where Mahler originally placed a third hammer 
          blow but then withdrew it. There is power, the same clarity of attack 
          in the playing there has been from the start, momentum too, and the 
          realisation that this really is the hero’s last throw. The heavy brass 
          and percussion are balanced but do not overwhelm and the ascent to the 
          climactic moment where the third blow used to be is broad and well paced. 
          Following Mahler’s wishes Herbig accepts the Ratz edition’s leaving 
          out of the third hammer blow and vindicates that decision. All the damage 
          is done by now and the ultimate, crushing negation is to come in the 
          work’s coda. Under Herbig this is veiled and drear, all energy and passion 
          spent. The final percussion crash, followed by a mind-numbing delivery 
          by the timpanist of the last appearance of the fate rhythm and its dumping 
          of us poor listeners into cold oblivion, is absolutely shattering. 
        
 
        
For me only Thomas Sanderling surpasses Gunter Herbig 
          in delivering what I believe to be the most appropriate approach to 
          this symphony. His wind lines jut out with a touch more character and 
          there is a degree more of the "Krupp-Sinfonie" about 
          his performance. This may have to do with the fact that in the St. Petersburg 
          Philharmonic he has the better orchestra and a closer-in recording to 
          really bring out the modern feel. The playing of the Saarbrücken 
          Orchestra for Herbig, however, is excellent throughout. Especially remarkable 
          for the fact that, unlike Tilson Thomas’s San Francisco recording, this 
          is just a single performance unedited. This radio orchestra may not 
          have the glamour and the corporate panache of Berlin, Vienna, New York 
          (or even San Francisco), but they more than make up for that in their 
          accuracy, commitment and sheer stamina. I do so agree with my colleague 
          Paul Serotsky in his vast review of the new Barshai Shostakovich cycle 
          that also features and excellent German radio orchestra like this when 
          he writes: "I generally find such orchestras far more exciting 
          than any of the pan-global mega-orchestras. For 
          a start, they often retain some local "flavour", and being somehow less 
          exalted and hence nearer the gut-level ground, they seem to be more 
          attuned to what it means to make real music for real people." 
          I thought the Saarbrücken woodwind especially 
          were full of sharp character and Herbig’s zeal to make us hear all the 
          complexities of Mahler’s counterpoint at every level is evident throughout. 
          The recorded sound from the Saarbrücken Radio 
          engineers is clear and detailed but there is sufficient air around the 
          instruments to give the impression of being at the performance which 
          fully deserves the enthusiastic applause it receives after a fitting 
          pause. 
        
 
        
Thomas Sanderling’s version is quite hard to find these 
          days so Herbig’s now takes on an added importance. I know that some 
          will find it performance too austere, astringent, and I suppose it is 
          when compared with the likes of Bernstein, Rattle, Tennstedt and Barbirolli 
          who put more of their own emotional baggage into the score. Many will 
          prefer them but I beg to differ. My advice is to get the Herbig and 
          persevere with it because I am convinced this is the kind of recording 
          that delivers its effect over time. The kind of performance that is 
          more appropriate to what Mahler was trying to communicate in this grand 
          and terrible work. I believe that Günter Herbig has read 
          it dead right. 
        
 
        
This is one of the very best recordings of Mahler’s 
          Sixth Symphony available. It is quite stunning in its concentration, 
          totally convincing in its drama and absolutely shattering in its implications. 
          I believe it will stand the test of time. 
        
 
        
        
Tony Duggan