| 
         
          |  |  |   
          |  
  
 alternativelyMDT 
              AmazonUK 
              AmazonUS
 
 | Introducing Masterpieces of Classical Music Gustav MAHLER (1860-1911)
 Symphony No. 5 in C sharp minor (1901-1903) [67:00]
 
  Lucerne Festival Orchestra/Claudio Abbado rec. 2004, Lucerne Festival, Lucerne, Switzerland
 Documentary presented by Jeremy Barham [27:00]
 Directors: Michael Beyer (concert), Angelika Stiehler (documentary)
 Picture format: 16:9/NTSC
 Sound: LPCM stereo, Dolby Digital 5.1, DTS 5.1
 Region: 0 (worldwide)
 Languages: English, French, German, Spanish
 
  EUROARTS 2056178  [95:00]   |   
          |  |   
          |  
               
                Mahlerians will recognise that this is not a new performance, 
                  but what is new is Euroarts’ decision to repackage some 
                  of their earlier releases with supporting documentaries. Anyone 
                  familiar with the bonus items normally tacked on to these discs 
                  will know how variable they can be; this time, though, the jacket 
                  blurb promises us something more substantial, an ‘insightful 
                  documentary’ presented by the ‘well-known scholar’ Jeremy Barham. 
                  A senior lecturer at the University of Surrey, Barham is indeed 
                  a Mahler specialist – his PhD was on the composer’s Third 
                  Symphony and, in addition to other writings, he’s contributed 
                  a chapter to OUP’s The Mahler Companion.
 
 This bodes well for the 27-minute documentary which, as it’s 
                  the disc’s USP, is where we should begin. Initially my heart 
                  sank, as narrator Dulcie Smart’s opening words are rendered 
                  all but inaudible by music from the performance itself. Barham 
                  comes to the rescue after about two minutes, only to be replaced 
                  by more music, scenic pans and swamped voice-overs. Alas, this 
                  style of documentary making is all too prevalent these days, 
                  serious content subsumed by the exterior gloss one associates 
                  with coffee-table books that look good but which no-one ever 
                  seems to read.
 
 If you can’t abide these sight- and sound-bites – the tricksy 
                  visuals pass in the blink of an eye – just skip to chapter 2, 
                  entitled ‘Part 1’, which is about the symphony itself. At last 
                  we can escape the anodyne commentary and well-worn anecdotes 
                  and get to the heart of the music. But no; the absurd balance 
                  means the eruptive start to the first movement – superbly captured, 
                  by the way – obliterates the narration once again. At least 
                  Barham’s contributions – filmed with him talking to an off-camera 
                  interviewer – are clear and uncluttered. He uses the piano to 
                  highlight musical motifs – the triplets of the opening fanfare, 
                  for instance, which he aptly characterises as a memento mori. 
                  Helpfully, relevant sections of the score are presented on screen, 
                  which is a nice touch.
 
 As if to emphasise the annoying disjunction of style and content 
                  in this documentary, the second movement’s title ‘Stürmisch 
                  bewegt’ is superimposed over a shot of the calm waters of the 
                  Wörthersee. Hardly indicative of what Barham calls a ‘mood of 
                  restless urgency’. That said, his contributions are always cogent 
                  and interesting, backed up with musical examples played on the 
                  piano; one pleasing visual touch is the way these snippets fade 
                  out and are taken up by the orchestra. I really wish the narrator’s 
                  bridging comments/interjections had ended up on the cutting-room 
                  floor, as they’re so much at odds with Barham’s unfussy presentational 
                  style. Indeed, in the section on the Scherzo the narration embroiders 
                  on the presenter’s earlier comments. For heaven’s sake, why?
 
 Another distraction – albeit a minor one – is the use of what 
                  sounds like mid-Atlantic voices for the male voice-overs. Quite 
                  different from Dulcie Smart’s cool, uninflected tones. And what’s 
                  the point of talking about polyphony and counterpoint in relation 
                  to the Scherzo without explaining what the terms actually mean? 
                  It’s easily done, as Barham demonstrates in his explanation 
                  of the suspension – or appoggiatura – in the Adagietto.
 
 One of the beauties of multi-cued DVDs and Blu-rays is that 
                  you can skip the bits you don’t like. Trouble is, the success 
                  of this repackaged DVD is predicated on the idea that consumers 
                  will buy it for the added extras. Generally I find these bonus 
                  tracks to be of peripheral interest only, but Barham’s quiet, 
                  scholarly illustrations are very worthwhile indeed. What a pity 
                  we couldn’t have had more in-depth analysis and musical examples, 
                  rather than vapid visuals and redundant narratives..
 
 And now for the performance itself. Claudio Abbado’s much-praised 
                  Mahler cycle with his hand-picked Lucerne orchestra is almost 
                  complete. And what a journey it’s been, made all the more poignant 
                  – and compelling – by the maestro’s battle with cancer. That 
                  said, his gaunt features are transformed once he’s on the podium, 
                  shaking his fist at the raging storm as it were. The fanfare 
                  and aural earthquake at the start of the symphony have seldom 
                  sounded more seismic, the dynamics so wide. And that’s pretty 
                  much what this Mahler Fifth is all about, huge emotional swings 
                  essayed with superhuman strength by this remarkable maestro 
                  and band.
 
 Abbado is a master of the long span, the inner workings of the 
                  first movement laid bare by his forensic probing. The agitated 
                  chatter and jabbing rhythms of the second movement are as arresting 
                  as I’ve ever heard them, the ensuing music a welcome shelter 
                  from the elements. What really impresses me about Abbado’s Mahler 
                  – this latest cycle especially – is the sheer logic of his readings; 
                  these are lean performances, without superfluous gesture or 
                  expressive underlining, and the results are enthralling.
 
 The DVD picture clear, the camerawork unobtrusive, and the sound 
                  – in its stereo PCM form at least – is very good indeed. The 
                  weight and amplitude of this symphony really does call for all 
                  the dynamic range the engineers can muster, and I’m delighted 
                  to say that’s exactly what they deliver. There’s warmth and 
                  detail as well, especially in the delectable Ländler 
                  and pin-sharp pizzicati of the Scherzo, not to mention 
                  the honeyed string sounds of the Adagietto. There’s no dewy-eyed 
                  sentimentality here, the music most naturally paced and phrased.
 
 But it’s the Rondo-Finale that takes one’s breath away; from 
                  its deceptively gentle opening through to that crowning chorale 
                  – it’s seldom sounded so shattering, so blazingly affirmative 
                  – this is music-making of the highest order. The Lucerne band 
                  performs like the finely engineered instrument it is, and I 
                  seriously doubt this music could be played with more authority 
                  and commitment than it is here. And lest it seem I’ve lost my 
                  critical marbles, I haven’t warmed to everything Abbado has 
                  done in Lucerne. For instance, his ‘Resurrection’ was much less 
                  visionary than I’d hoped, but then his various CD versions of 
                  this work aren’t among the best in the catalogue either.
 
 If you’re new to Mahler and/or this symphony then this DVD is 
                  a must-buy, if only for the performance. As for seasoned Mahlerians 
                  – and those who already own the original release – this ‘insightful 
                  documentary’ adds precious little to the original package.
 
 Dan Morgan
 
 
 
      |  |