*** Simon Rattle and the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, with
contralto Birgit Remmert and baritone Simon Keenlyside
MAHLER: SYMPHONY NO. 3 and songs from DES KNABEN WUNDERHORN
(EMI)
At the tender age of 44, Simon
Rattle is a classy Mahler conductor -- arguably the world's classiest -- whose
recordings suggest a huge talent that, like a huge wine, hasn't reached its
peak. Last year's recording of the big Ninth has room to grow; his recording of
the Fourth, on the other hand, has been bettered only by the performances he
led with the BSO last weekend.
The Third is another big work, both in length (96 minutes here) and in concept
(six movements ranging from "What the Rocks Tell Me" to "What Love Tells Me,"
with a Nietzsche stop along the way). Rattle's 30-minute-plus opening movement
spares us the braying trombones of so many of its peers, but it doesn't quite
solve the problem that Mahler's endless slow-moving "generation" poses, and the
opposing march theme could be rowdier, especially the B-flat clarinets, which
have clearly ducked into a local ("Eins! Zwei! G'suffa!") as the proletariat
roll down the Prater. At the end, too, he interprets Gustav's "drängend"
as a direction to sprint to the finish.
The chamber-like Minuet is delectable; the Scherzo has wind-animals that are
positively Sendakian and a magically distant posthorn, but I wish he'd let it
lose itself, stop time. Contralto Birgit Remmert arbitrates nicely between arty
and folky in the "Midnight" fourth movement, and Rattle's controversial oboe
glissandos, which flummoxed Gramophone reviewer David S. Gutman, beguile
on further acquaintance. I found the children's-choir bell movement
over-reverberant and without the bright, direct naïveté Jascha
Horenstein brought to it, and the celestial final movement is a shade restless,
with, again, an apotheosis that's more dashing than I believe Gustav's "a
tempo" warrants.
Not Mahler for the ages, then, or a reading to displace the benchmarks of
Horenstein and Leonard Bernstein -- but this won't be Rattle's last Third, and
besides, his Mahler recordings have a way of growing, of rewarding the
persistent listener and discomfiting the picky reviewer. The fill-up for this
two-disc set, eight Wunderhorn songs from Rattle and baritone Simon
Keenlyside, is kaleidoscopic in color and superbly characterized, especially in
the Brechtian mince-and-menace of "Des Antonius von Padua Fischpredigt."
-- Jeffrey Gantz