Nézet-Séguin contemplates Mahler (1st review)

After Wednesday's rehearsal of Mahler's Sixth Symphony, conductor Nézet-Séguin sat with David Kim and Philadelphia Orchestra president Allison Vulgamore and talked about next season in front of hundreds of music lovers in the Kimmel Center lobby. I was struck by how often Nézet-Séguin invoked the name of Leopold Stokowski, the Orchestra's conductor from 1912 to 1936: more than 30 times within 30 minutes. In contrast, when discussing the Philadelphia Orchestra's heritage he mentioned Eugene Ormandy (1936-80) just once.

To be sure, Yannick's first season as music director corresponds with the 100th anniversary of Stokowski assuming that post with the Philadelphia Orchestra. I myself pointed that out in a recent column (click here). I'm well aware of Stokowski's importance, having worked with him on a 32-week series about his career on public radio in 1967 and 1968. Yet even I was surprised by the frequency of Nézet-Séguin's encomiums to Stokie's conducting and programming talents, his innovations and his importance to the city.

Next season's schedule is rich with works made famous by Stokowski with the Philadelphia Orchestra, including Stravinsky's Le sacre du printemps (The Rite of Spring). But Yannick's comments incur a risk that audiences will compare Nézet-Séguin to his famed predecessor.

I'm impressed that he had the guts to take on that challenge. He seems to be looking for innovative, cross-cultural presentations that won't merely copy Stokowski programming but will honor that spirit.

The Mahler Sixth is a case in point. Stokowski introduced Mahler to America with premieres of his Symphony No. 8 and Das Lied von der Erde, and I heard a powerful Symphony No. 2 from him, but he avoided the Sixth and most of Mahler's darker creations.

(When I asked Stokie why he didn't conduct more Mahler, he responded by citing the big Mahler works that he did conduct. Stokie left me with the feeling that despair and resignation were not big parts of his vocabulary.)

Anguish? Says who?

Nézet-Séguin may be more open-minded than Stokowski in this area. (That's saying something, because Stokie was one of the most open-minded people I ever met.) And Yannick may be equally as creative, because Thursday night he showed a new way of interpreting the Mahler Sixth.

Yannick's conception favored lavish sweeps of melody and lush playing that overcame this symphony's tendency"“ especially the first movement— to seem episodic and fragmentary.

This interpretation showed less angst than other readings— specifically, compared to the Eschenbach performances of 2006 (which I attended and re-heard last night on CD) and also to performances conducted by Leonard Bernstein.

The Mahler Sixth is a panoply of life's vicissitudes— among them excitement, pain, apprehension and determination. Yannick and the orchestra displayed that full range. The Andante third movement is one of the most beautiful things Mahler wrote, and the Philadelphia strings made it glow.

Only in the last movement do we hear two fateful "hammer blows" (delivered by a huge wooden mallet smashing a wooden box) and then a bleak finale. But who decided that the Sixth Symphony is entirely about anguish?

Blame Mahler's widow

Is it accurate to call this symphony "The Tragic"? Mahler himself never labeled it that, nor did his publisher at first. And Mahler never proclaimed a meaning for the piece.

The angst that most modern critics see in the Sixth Symphony was assigned by Mahler's widow, Alma, who outlived him by many decades. Alma said her husband foresaw tragedy. We can accept that maybe he envisaged the dissolution of the Austro-Hungarian Empire; but can we believe that he knew his daughter would die young, and his wife would be unfaithful, and he would die of heart disease at age 50?

Indeed, how accurate is Alma's image of the man as a tortured and fearful soul?

I had the rare privilege of talking with men who played under Mahler when he led the New York Philharmonic from 1909 to 1911. They described him as bold and extroverted— this at a time when he was closer to death than when he finished the Sixth Symphony in 1906, more than a year before his daughter fell ill and died. He had dark moods, for good reason. But this wasn't his entire personality.

When Philadelphians first learned about Nézet-Séguin, they heard he was a choral director who did a lot of opera. Who would have guessed that he had such affinity for Mahler? This was his second Mahler concert here. And speaking of central Europeans, he told us that he's expectantly looking forward to offering a revelatory Bruckner Seventh next year.

Opera on his horizon

He'll also conduct a Verdi Requiem with two of the biggest opera stars, Roberto Villazon and Marina Poplavskaya. In a separate conversation, Nézet-Séguin told me that he wants to do operas here, and not just concert versions. Perhaps Verdi and Richard Strauss. He just is concerned that he not compromise any plans of the Opera Company of Philadelphia, and that he co-ordinate with the Academy of Vocal Arts and Curtis Institute.

"My conception of conducting is to encourage the listening aspect, in chamber music and the same when accompanying the singer," he said, "anticipating, proposing, suggesting something, listening and responding to solo singers."

He preceded the Mahler with a nicely transparent rendition of Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 5, where a small part of the orchestra accompanied David Kim on violin, Jeffrey Khaner on flute and Nézet-Séguin on harpsichord.

For the Mahler, the stage was packed with 108 musicians, and the concert went 15 minutes into overtime. Timidity thus was rejected by this orchestra that has gone through so much of its own angst recently. The playing was intense, and the instrumental solos were even better than when they last played this work. The shattering finale was greeted with a deserved, reverential silence before applause began.♦


To read another review by Robert Zaller,click here.
To read a follow-up, click here.