I was very surprised
to read in the most interesting booklet
essay that Carlo Maria Giulini made
only a handful of appearances at the
Salzburg Festival during his long and
distinguished career. However, this
was not because he was frozen out during
the Karajan years as some other artists
were. Rather it appears that it was
more the result of Giulini making himself
something of a loner. So the complete
concert offered here apparently represents
only his third appearance at the Festival.
The set is precious
for another reason. Giulini’s repertoire
was famously selective and it included
little of Mahler’s music. He made commercial
recordings of only three works so far
as I know. There’s a much underrated
version of the First Symphony with the
Chicago Symphony Orchestra, which EMI
reissued in a four-disc set last year
in celebration of the maestro’s 90th
birthday. He made recordings of two
other works, setting down the Ninth
Symphony, also in Chicago, and recording
Das Lied von der Erde
with the Berlin Philharmonic and the
same soloists as here. And that’s it.
As far as I’m aware he didn’t conduct
any more of Mahler’s music, much less
record it. And I can understand that
for, with the possible exception of
the other song cycles and the Fourth
Symphony, the remainder of Mahler’s
œuvre would not have suited the
temperament of this most fastidious
of conductors. He was wise not to have
attempted them. But as the surviving
recordings, this one included, demonstrate
those Mahler works that he did conduct
he did well.
The Mozart symphony
opens the programme and it’s something
of a disappointment. It’s refined and
loving but most of it is just too slow
and too smoothly sculpted. It’s hard
to believe that this is the same conductor
who so memorably recorded, for example,
a vital Don Giovanni for EMI
under the Walter Legge regime. The first
movement is marked Allegro molto
but you’d never know from just listening.
In fact Giulini gives us a rather melancholic
reading of the movement. Though the
phrasing is affectionate there’s no
drive. I’d estimate the speed at crotchet=78.
By contrast the lithe interpretation
by Sir Charles Mackerras and the Prague
Chamber Orchestra (Telarc) nips along
at crotchet=112. No wonder Mackerras
takes 6’53" for this movement whereas
Giulini, with his completely different
conception of the music, requires 9’09".
Both conductors observe the exposition
repeat, by the way.
The slow movement is
just that – slow! In fact it’s almost
lugubrious. My understanding of an andante
is that the pace should be close to
walking speed. Not here it isn’t. It’s
beautifully played but really it’s all
just too earnest. There are no repeats,
which is probably just as well since
even played straight through the movement
occupies 8’43" here. Mackerras
makes both repeats and still clocks
in at just 13’27".
Not surprisingly, perhaps,
the Menuetto is rather too stately –
it just lacks the necessary forward
impetus. The finale, though more allegro
than the marked allegro assai
is somewhat more vital than what has
gone before And tellingly Giulini achieves
this extra vitality with no loss of
grace. Both repeats are taken. Though
the VPO plays devotedly for Giulini
this isn’t a performance that I can
see myself returning to very often.
The performance of
Das Lied von der Erde is an entirely
different affair. Where much of the
Mozart was sleepy and smooth to the
point of blandness this performance
is vital and acute. Giulini’s Berlin
recording was made a few years earlier,
in 1983, I believe. I haven’t heard
that recording for many years, and I
don’t believe it’s currently available,
but I recall it as a finely observed
and very humane account. Those characteristics
are evident here too but the electricity
of a live performance brings out a frisson
and an added urgency that may not have
been quite so present under studio conditions
– though it’s dangerous to rely on memory.
Giulini is blessed
with two fine soloists, The Mexican
tenor, Francisco Araiza has a splendid
ring in his voice yet in the first song,
‘Das Trinklied von Jammer der Erde’,
every time he sings the line ‘Dunkel
ist das Leben, ist der Tod’ there’s
also a most welcome sweetness in the
voice. This is a cruelly demanding song,
encompassing a wide vocal range (and
a wide range of emotion) and the tessitura
is punishing at times. Araiza seems
undaunted by it all and produces an
heroic top B flat on the word ‘Lebens’
near the end of the song. Just before
that I don’t think he quite conveys
the horror of the episode when an ape
is glimpsed by the poet but overall
I think his performance of this song
is very successful even if he doesn’t
quite efface memories of Patzak or Wunderlich
– though both of these were recorded
under studio conditions.
Araiza does his other
two songs very well too. I much enjoyed
his light, easy tenor in ‘Von der Jungend’
where there’s some lovely phrasing to
admire. And ’Der Trunkene im Frühling’
is equally commendable.
But, with due respect
to the tenor fraternity any performance
of Das Lied von der Erde stands
or falls by the performance of the mezzo-soprano
soloist. In Brigitte Fassbaender Giulini
has the services of one of the most
vividly communicative singers of her
generation. So often when one hears
her one appreciates that for her every
phrase, every word means something.
And so it is here. In her opening song,
‘Der Einsame im Herbst’ her entry is
superbly prepared by Giulini, who balances
the chamber-like textures of the orchestra
luminously. He inspires some lustrous
playing from the VPO, especially the
distinguished and eloquent principal
oboist. Fassbaender sings from the start
with commitment and compelling intensity.
Hear her at ‘Der Herbst in meinem Herzen
wärht zu lange’ and marvel at the
artistry on display in a phrase a mere
four and a half bars long!
‘Von der Schönheit’
is an astonishing song, often unfairly,
if understandably overshadowed by ‘Der
Abschied’. It begins innocently enough
but in the central section, beginning
at ‘O sieh, was tummeln sich für
schöne Knaben’ (track 4, 3’13")
Mahler really screws up the tension
and the pace. Here Fassbaender responds
with some tremendously vital and involved
singing. As the tempo and the emotion
gets wilder she produces some almost
visceral singing at ‘Das Ros des einem
wiehert fröhlich auf’ (4’02").
So intensely does she project the words
that one is reminded of Fischer-Dieskau.
But she reserves her
greatest efforts, as she should, for
‘Der Abschied’. From the very start
her singing and communication reach
new levels of commitment and intuition.
This is penetrating music-making in
which Giulini supports her to the hilt.
Just once or twice early on I detected
instances where, in her desire to communicate
her vision of the song, the pitch of
a sustained note wavers. However, these
are momentary and minor technical blemishes
which are as nothing when set against
the spirit of her performance. Every
note is invested with meaning and the
changing moods of the setting are all
vividly conveyed. Thus she sounds suitably
withdrawn at ‘Es wehet kühl im
Schatten meiner Fichten’ but a few moments
later there’s searing intensity at ‘O
Schönheit! O ewigen Liebens’.
As I’ve indicated Giulini
and the orchestra play their full part
in the drama. The great orchestral interlude
from figure 38 in the score (track 6,
14’38") is penetratingly conducted
by Giulini who builds it powerfully
and purposefully. The playing of the
VPO has a haunting intensity. When Fassbaender
enters again, at ‘Er stieg vom Pferd
und reichte ihm’ (20’16") she doesn’t
opt for a withdrawn tone, as do some
but instead is vivid in her vocalisation.
Then ‘Die liebe Erde allüberall’
is the heartfelt, ecstatic outpouring
that it should be, the singer supported
by an ardent VPO. The work dies away
into the nothingness of ‘Ewig’ and there
is nothing more to say. Mercifully the
audience grants a few seconds of silence
before giving richly deserved applause.
This is a superb rendition
of Das Lied von der Erde. I should
say at once that the sheer animal intensity
of Fassbaender’s singing won’t be to
all tastes. For myself I don’t find
it a comfortable interpretation. But
should Das Lied be "comfortable"?
Surely not. No, Fassbaender gives us
a disturbing and challenging interpretation,
one to set beside the truly great interpreters
of this role: Ludwig (for Klemperer),
Baker (for Haitink and, even more, for
Kubelik) and Ferrier (with Walter).
Giulini’s is a perceptive,
considered and deeply musical vision
of this score. He doesn’t displace such
giants as Horenstein, Haitink, Klemperer
or Walter but, like them, he brings
his own deep insights to this score
and, on this performance, I’d rank him
in such exalted company as an interpreter
of this many-faceted masterpiece. And
I mustn’t overlook Araiza, who makes
a not inconsiderable contribution to
the success of this enterprise. So do
the Vienna Philharmonic, who play marvellously
for Giulini.
The recorded sound
is excellent and there are good notes
in German and English though no texts
are supplied.
The Mozart performance
is not, I suggest, one that will enhance
the reputation of Carlo Maria Giulini
but this Das Lied von der Erde, which
he approved for release only a few months
before his death, is another very welcome
and treasurable example of his superb,
inspiring and perceptive musicianship.
All his admirers and, even more so,
all those who love this wondrous score
should hasten to hear it. We should
be profoundly grateful to Orfeo for
making it available. Recommended with
all possible enthusiasm.
John Quinn
*Brigitte Fassbaender (mezzo)
