Getting the full measure of Mahler
Barbican Lso/trevino
Every Mahler symphony poses a colossal challenge to a conductor, but in terms of sheer size none beats the Third. The first movement on its own is longer than an entire typical Mozart symphony – and after it come five more. Just to hold everything together and maintain a taut energy until the end is a feat in itself.
Robert Trevino, the young American conductor who took over from an indisposed Daniel Harding, showed he has the necessary stamina and authority for the task. And he clearly has an unabashed appreciation for the extremes in Mahler, the squawking fairground vulgarities as well as the spiritual aspiration.
The biggest test comes with the first movement, a strange amalgam of funeral march, forest rustlings and big, beery marches, which some say were inspired by workers’ demonstrations in Vienna. Trevino seemed determined to make the sombre opening as drawn-out and grand as possible – which seems reasonable enough.
You could say that a 90-minute symphony needs a grand opening, in the same way a huge statue needs a massive pedestal. But it robbed the opening of momentum, a vital quality in a movement that really needs to sweep us along if we’re not to become uncomfortably aware of just how often Mahler retreads the same ground.
That was the only mis-step – from there on, Trevino had the music’s measure. After the 1st movement, the symphony makes as an ascent through the Great Chain of Being, with flowers in the 2nd movement, then animals in the 3rd, all the way up to the Almighty in the final movement.
Trevino negotiated the constant hesitations and surgings of tempo in the delicate 2nd movement with a sure hand. In the 3rd, he gave room for the nostalgic offstage trumpet melody to breathe, while deftly keeping the orchestral accompaniment together – a real test of a conductor’s skill.
Then, in the 4th movement, came the thrillingly deep tones of Swedish alto Anna Larsson. “The world is deep”, she intoned sadly, while oboist Olivier Stankiewicz made his sad interjections seem dignified and plaintive, rather than exaggeratedly grotesque, as is the fashion these days.
After the gleefully naïve hymn to the angels (the London Symphony Chorus and Tiffin Boys Choir on fine form) came the final rapt hymn. Trevino made sure the final affirmation was overwhelming, but the most moving moment came just before, when the LSO’S brass played the hymn-tune with angelic perfection.