It’s been a privilege
to hear this disc, which I have to say
I admire profoundly. I’ve long been
aware of it,but until now never managed
to listen to it. Over the past forty
or more years I’ve heard or owned innumerable
LPs, pre-recorded cassettes and CDs
of this piece. These have ranged from
Charles Adler’s pioneering set to the
most recent digital versions. I can
tell you that this one is among the
very best. It’s a performance of explosive
power and truly exhausting intensity,
and Telarc’s recording puts you there
in the stalls.
In case anyone out
there doubts the abilities of the Atlanta
Symphony - for long since known mainly
for the many recordings Robert Shaw
made with his Chorale - let me assure
you that you’ll not find more polished
playing in New York, Boston, Chicago,
Phildelphia, Cleveland, San Francisco
or Los Angeles. Their ensemble can only
be wondered at, especially given the
pace at which Levi drives them, and
individual sections and players distinguish
themselves again and again.
I can’t tell you how
impressed I am with Levi’s conducting.
One of the most striking achievements
here is the extent to which Mahler’s
every marking is loyally enacted. This
score - far more than anything Mahler
wrote previously - is meticulous in
defining relative dynamic levels between
potentially weak voices (low flutes,
for example) and stronger ones, most
especially in passages where balance
might otherwise go awry. So it’s not
uncommon to find fff and
pp in the same chord,
where Mahler wants to ‘adjust’ the texture
in favour of a particular instrument,
or simply to guarantee equality of voicing.
For example, one passage in the first
movement (Bar 336, if you have access
to a score) has three different sonorities
contributing to the sound character
of a single idea - flutes ppp,
violin and violas pizzicato p,
and celesta f. (This extraordinarily
original approach to sound was to be
profoundly influential on younger Viennese
composers - such as Schoenberg, Berg
or Webern - who fell under Mahler’s
spell.) Applied to melody - a technique
known as Klangfarbenmelodie,
or ‘tone-colour-melody’ - it results
in the ‘colour’ of a phrase shifting
tellingly at its highpoint, or as it
fades away. The arresting major-minor
chord which prefaces the second theme
of the first movement is a good case
in point: trumpets diminuendo
ff to pp
as oboes (simultaneously) crescendo
p to ff,
so the chord mutates from trumpets to
oboes, with barely any alteration to
the perceived ‘aggregate’ dynamic level.
Forgive me for this
digression. It’s important because,
time and time again in this performance,
one is made to question the unexpected
prominence of a particular instrument,
only to find that what Levi gives you
is precisely what Mahler intended. The
same applies to changes in tempo, many
of which Mahler expects to take place
(sometimes suddenly, sometimes gradually)
midway through a bar, or even before
one group of instruments has finished
a phrase. Levi follows his instructions
to the letter: what Mahler writes is
what you get.
The first movement
goes at a cracking pace. In fact I’ve
not heard it so hard driven since Bernstein’s
old New York (Sony, formerly CBS) recording.
It’s almost as exhausting to listen
to as one imagines it must have been
to play. To be honest - though I’m generally
open-minded about such things - I can’t
really see how a tempo which is about
as fast as could possibly be managed
can be justified here, given
Mahler’s clear instruction and qualification.
He clearly marks it Allegro energico,
ma non troppo! The scherzo
isn’t much less breathless, but, oddly
and inconsistently, the finale is notably
spacious by comparison, albeit no less
powerful.
The first movement
exposition repeat is omitted, by the
way but I consider this no great loss.
Myself, I regard it as little more than
an eccentric admission by Mahler that
he was writing his one and only ‘conventional’
organic sonata movement. If anything,
its observation distorts (rather than
enhances) the movement’s symphonic proportions.
I’ve saved mention
of the slow movement until last, and
deliberately. It’s here (but only here)
that Levi is surely eclipsed by the
competition - or some of the
competition. True, his orchestra plays
beautifully, and he shapes everything
lovingly. If you’re persuaded first
and foremost by this music’s sweetness
and intimacy, this may be more than
sufficient. But, once you’ve heard the
passion and unrelenting concentration
which characterise Bernstein’s and Karajan’s
recorded performances, it’s difficult
to accept the lightness of touch favoured
by others. On DG, Bernstein directs
the massed forces of the Vienna Philharmonic
with a unanimity which is spell-binding.
They play as if they are his right hand.
And Karajan, also on DG, inspires the
Berlin Philharmonic to play like a chorus
of angels, with an intensity which lifts
one out of one’s seat. Beside these,
Levi’s sounds understated.
Of course, in comparing
recorded versions of the Sixth, it has
to be said that two-disc versions (the
Bernstein and Karajan mentioned above;
also Abbado, Haitink, Chailly, Barbirolli,
Tennstedt and Solti) are a more costly
proposition than the single-CDs of Levi
and Boulez - and your listening experience
will be interrupted, as in the good
old days of LP! Rattle is on two discs
too, but with two movements on each
CD: so you can’t even ‘correct’ his
controversial running order (by re-programming)
which places the slow movement second.
In this hotly competitive
field, you should perhaps allow yourself
to be tempted by the Boulez, Bernstein
or Karajan alternatives, despite the
additional outlay. But, if you do so,
beware of what you’re turning your back
on: this is a superb bargain!
Peter J Lawson
see also Tony
Duggan on Mahler's 6th symphony
Atlanta Symphony Orchestra/Yoel Levi 
