Mahler Symphonies at the Boston Symphony Orchestra 2018-19 Season
by Boaz Heilman
I finally know what it is about Andris Nelsons conducting that I don't like, but that I couldn’t quite pinpoint before.
The BSO has long been the orchestras’ orchestra, among the world’s finest. It has boasted some of the world’s greatest conductors, among them Pierre Monteux, Koussevitzky, Leinsdorf, Osawa and—yes—James Levine. Mr. Nelson, to put it politely, just isn’t in the same league.
He has a wonderful orchestra, and he himself is musical and proficient enough to let his musicians shine. The trumpet solo in the recent Mahler 5thwas phenomenal—because Thomas Rolfs is superb. The harp in the famous Adagietto glowed. And so on, so many different moments of glorious playing.
Problem is, the Mahler 5th never became the drama that it is.
The “Resurrection,” Symphony No. 2, played just earlier this season, never lifted anyone, let alone resurrected them.
The pianissimos are gorgeous, even a curmudgeon like me has to admit. Long, sustained passages played—by the entire orchestra—so softly you actually had to listen to them. Now that’s what I go to the BSO for. Their sound. Magnificent, nothing short of.
And Nelsons, I am sure, is paid handsomely to let them sound their best.
What he’s not paid for is making the music ebb and soar, take you on a journey not only of sound, but also of emotions and powerful thoughts. There was no menace in the rhythmic trumpet solo. No victory rattle of the arrogant. The Viennese waltz never quite made the level of gilded, vapid, bubble-headed luxury which is how Mahler was sure to have conceived it.
The beautiful Adagietto. What more can anyone say? Truly one of the most beautiful pieces of music ever composed. Ever.
Yet—maybe because the harp’s beauty was so in the fore, on display—that at this concert the piece never became multi- dimensional. There are moments in this movement where the harp has barely to outline the distant horizon painted by the strings; but it was always highlighted, projected to the front and breaking distance and perspective.
In Mahler, there is so much more than just sound. And don’t get me wrong—there’s plenty of sound there. Think of the climax of the “Resurrection,” which occurs in the last movement, with the entire chorus exploding over a full orchestra, organ, bells and all. Now there’s a powerful moment, and the BSO with Nelsons performed it that way. Yet it could have--and should have--carried much more emotional punch with it.
I have to admit, the BSO and the Tanglewood Festival Chorus being what it is, the opening of the “Urlicht” movement was sublime. It is supposed to be. Only that between this moment and the aforementioned climax, the music has to take the listener on a journey of faith, from despair to redemption. This particular performance, it didn’t. And, though I didn't go to the other performances, I'm guessing it didn't on those occasions either.
Nelson’s musicality is simply not in the same league as the other, great conductors who have led the BSO. He lets the orchestra sound its finest, but he does not serve the music.
It’s his lack of drama. Let’s face it. He’s boring.
What the BSO needs is a conductor who is a sound visionary, a musician who will not only make their instrument sing beautifully but will also drain you emotionally.
Great emphasis is put today on making old warhorses sound fresh. Often, it’s in the speed or tempo. Sometimes another trick or shtick. Why not just let the music say what it needs to? If it’s a work of art, it will always speak to us. It’s all in the music. But you have to get at it, to get beyond the sound itself, to the story behind it. It will always sound fresh if you got it. That's the greatness of music, even beyond the greatness of the interpreters who give it life. It has to sing through them, despite them, to overcome them.
I guess I'll stick with Bernstein.
