The Cinderella among Mahler symphonies(转发)

Once the Cinderella among Mahler symphonies, the Seventh is now so popular that just about every interpretative tendency, past and present, is represented on the Gramophone Database. Fortunately, Michael Tilson Thomas and the LSO are a greatly experienced Mahler team and their latest recording is by no means an also-ran. The booklet-notes are by Michael Steinberg, who sees the work as predominantly sunny, or at least as a journey back to life after the tragic Sixth. Michael Tilson Thomas would not, I think, incline to this view. He is very much alive to its 'concerto for orchestra' potential, but he emphasizes also its radical discontinuities. Contrast, parody, and even brashness, are paramount, which is not to say that he courts the dysfunctional to the extent of a maverick like Giuseppe Sinopoli. Where some conductors glory in the divertissement qualities of the second and fourth movements, Tilson Thomas is equally at home in the psychodrama of the first, third and fifth. Moreover, the recorded sound is (perhaps deliberately?) alienating: the balance presents an LSO brass section in fine fettle - there are plenty of outsize personalities here - but my speakers also relay a cavernous quality not normally associated with the Walthamstow venue.

I thought the opening particularly successful, casting a giant shadow with the bass properly 'weighted', the woodwinds' response to the (superb) tenor horn solo spikily angular. Orchestral virtuosity can be taken for granted throughout this reading, especially where wind and brass are concerned, but the introduction does set the tone for much of what follows, with the brass rather prominent in relation to the strings. This can pay dividends, as in the thrilling trumpet fourths which lead into the Allegro con fuoco. It might be the balance of the recording that sometimes seems to constrict the upper strings' dynamic range: the crescendo at 11'52'' (five bars before fig. 40) barely registers, and there is a slight glassiness to the tone. Solo violin (from 9'47'') is, however, well integrated into the texture. The first Nachtmusik is cool, melancholic and serious, but lovingly drawn, with some fantastic playing from the woodwind at the outset (though the two solo cellos make surprisingly heavy weather of their solo at 9'01'', and you may feel that the cowbells are too assertive on their first appearance - the marking is 'very distant'). The third movement has a spectral, deserted ballroom feel. Whereas the second Nachtmusik starts out at a nice, flowing two-in-a-bar, graceful, if a little chaste sounding, Tilson Thomas favours a more self-indulgent manner later on.

The conductor himself has spoken of the finale as a tremendous challenge, a 'mad-scientist' piece in which the performers can feel as if trapped inside a video game. His solutions here compel respect, without quite banishing doubts about the music's staying power. No doubt attempting to emphasize the sudden change of mood, the orchestra turns exuberant to the point of harshness. There is a recklessly virtuosic, and sometimes overpowering, contribution from the brass, but aren't they simply too loud at times? (The trombones at 15'59'' are only meant to be forte.) The movement can hang fire in the episodes between the hectic reappearances of the rondo theme, where Bernstein's 1965 New York account makes everything seem inexorable. And while Mahler's indications are minutely observed, you may not like the way the music 'continuously second-guesses itself', as Tilson Thomas puts it.

In the final analysis, this might just be one of those performances which needs time to settle. For the most part 'clean' and unaffected, not unlike Abbado's Chicago version (despite the prominence of the brass), it aspires to the special idiomatic qualities of the Bernstein, and ends up somewhere in between. The Seventh requires a far-sighted vision, an ability to unite the disparate, to cope with an ever-changing terrain with the eye firmly fixed on the horizon. Even if Tilson Thomas has done better in the concert hall, this set remains an impressive achievement. It is hard to fault the overall pacing, although one can imagine record company bosses blenching at a performance that busts (but only just) the 80-minute barrier. Older listeners are more likely to regret a certain lack of elegance.'