Thomas Sanderling/St. Petersburg Philharmonic Orchestra Mahler 6: A Definite Keeper
When I saw the highly-acclaimed Thomas Sanderling/St. Petersburg Philharmonic Orchestra recording of Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 6 on iTunes this past Sunday evening, I could not help purchasing it to give it a listen.
With only a few Mahler 6 recordings I have listened to have I noticed new details in the score. This Sanderling Mahler 6 upholds that tradition nicely. The opening A’s in the cellos and basses do not have the staccato crunch of Sir Georg Solti or Benjamin Zander in his Philharmonia recording; those opening notes are just a tad longer, and the acoustics of the hall just seem better. If asked to compare, I would say that Sanderling’s opening of the first movement reminds me most of the recent David Zinman/Tonhalle Orchestra recording. And, indeed, the timings are within 20 seconds of each other: Zinman clocks in at a nice, moderate 23:50, and Sanderling comes in at 23:31.
The percussion in this recording is definitely noteworthy. The snare drum is very noticeable, something I consider essential in Mahler 6; the percussionists all do an excellent job, whether it be on drums or keyboard instruments. The “fate motif” on timpani is very strong, and it does not linger as some other interpretations do, such as Zander (with the Boston Philharmonic) and Zinman.
The “cowbell” interlude is not the dreamy pause it is under Zander, but that fits with Sanderling’s interpretation and the “getting on with it” feeling presented thus far. When the march rhythms return, the percussion definitely has a much meaner quality to it. It is clear that while the bad times have not yet set in completely, Sanderling has a firm idea of where this symphony is going.
The Scherzo is placed second in this performance and is given a straight reading with no erratic tempo alterations that some conductors indulge in. The orchestra performs flawlessly here, as in the first movement, and again I was taken by surprise by some details I never before noticed; percussion effects and string dynamics come to mind. While the movement starts out in a stable 3/4 time, it slowly turns into the everything-goes horror movement I think Mahler was envisioning. Indeed, that horror movement idea is made very real with a percussion crash near the end that, for the moment, pushed everything else out of my head and made me think, “Woe, what just happened?” The ending of the Scherzo suggests just the tiniest bit of serenity, and that makes for a welcome transition into the Andante.
The Andante, like the Scherzo, is given a detached reading that, again, fits right in with Sanderling’s interpretation of the first two movements. The Andante offers a momentary break from the terrible reality of the work, yet the listener does not become lost in the dream as so often happens. Sanderling’s interpretation of the Andante is simply a statement of facts with no sentimentality about it, a 180-degree difference from an emotional approach like that by Leonard Bernstein or Sir Simon Rattle. And while some may find this approach dissatisfying—I myself am more on the emotional side and prefer this work performed as such—it only helps in the context of Sanderling’s interpretation, and a deviation would detract from the bigger picture.
The Finale starts off with a percussion crash and a growl from the low instruments that brings the listener back into the thick of reality all too quickly. The opening section moves right along and develops into the first of several march segments; the timpani and symbols ring out in the march as I have never heard them before in this movement. (And I’ve listened to a lot of Mahler 6 Finales before—it is this movement with which I am most familiar!) As was the case in the previous three movements, I noticed details that I had not previously heard before; the prominently-placed symbol on the left-hand side comes to mind.
The build-up to the first hammer blow is taken just a bit slower than most; it is almost as if the hero has the slightest idea that something bad might be about to happen, and he is dragging his feet. The “whipped” passage between the two hammer blows is played very well and at a moderate tempo; the timpani and whip are very noticeable. Only in the area of string playing would I wish to look elsewhere—and to Zinman’s Tonhalle recording it would be. The second hammer blow is nothing special; I expected a little more sound, but the timpanist hammering out the fate motif a few measures later made up for it.
The final march is energetic and hopeful; if Sanderling was holding back his orchestra before, he pulls out all the stops at this point. The A major section just before the passage where there was once a third hammer blow is energetic and victorious. But…despair returns as the strings lead the piece back into A minor. The brass coda moves right along, a simple, unsentimental statement of fact; there is no room for emotion, as if the hero is totally drained of all energy. The final closing A minor chord signifies the end of the piece in a way that would only be fitting in Sanderling’s interpretation; the music is the only force telling the story right through the entire symphony, and it remains so to the very end.
Listening to this recording of Mahler’s “Tragic” Sixth Symphony led me to explore the work in an entirely new way. I tend to take more to the personal and emotional side of this symphony, which this performance does not indulge in. I have heard it said that Sir Simon Rattle’s City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra performance of the Sixth is a literal approach; particularly, in the finale the listener is “living” the tragedy being portrayed in the music. In this Sanderling recording, however, we as the listener do not have much emotional connection to the hero as we watch the tragedy unfold. Sure, there is emotion—and plenty of it—but it is a detached performance that even I, who tend to enjoy Benjamin Zander, Leonard Bernstein, and Sir Simon Rattles’ interpretations in this score—definitely cherish and appreciate.