Sir Simon Rattle and the Berliner Philharmoniker brought their London residency to an end with two performances of Mahler’s Symphony no. 2, “Resurrection” at the Royal Festival Hall. Two performances of such a visceral, mammoth work is a challenge in itself, but coming at the end of a packed week including a three concert Sibelius cycle, one would have thought the Berlin players would have nothing left to give. However, the audience was not let down, and we were rewarded with a performance to be remembered for some time to come.
They began with a short work by German composer Helmut Lachenmann. Lachenmann studied with Luigi Nono, and later became a significant presence at Darmstadt. He describes his compositions as “musique concrète instrumentale”, and his music draws on a whole range of extended techniques, producing often unusual and unexpected timbres. In Tableau for orchestra, we hear frequent use of breath, for example, with wind and brass players producing sound effects by breathing into their instruments. This is often combined with extensive use of a broad range of percussion, again often making breathy, sweeping sounds. This is music that requires precision and immense control, and Rattle steered the Berlin musicians through the challenging soundscape with confidence. the orchestra's response was technically impressive.
From the very beginning of the Mahler, it was clear that this would be a committed performance, with the cellos and basses giving a full-on physical attack to their opening statement, and later in the movement, the double basses’ col legno in particular was positively violent. The violins demonstrated their rich, silky sound, and the brass section showed off their warm tone too. Throughout, there was total commitment from the players, matched by an intensity of energy and focus from Rattle, conducting without the score. The antiphonally placed violins led to one or two moments of the slightest lack of ensemble between the back desks of strings at either side of the stage, but these moments were fleeting.
The second movement was played with the utmost grace and poise, and the string ensemble was tight here. In the third movement, the antiphonal effect of the violins came into its own, although there was also one dangerous moment of shaky ensemble, when the split first violins and cellos are playing with the clarinet, then suddenly drop out leaving a solo violin and the flute to take over. However, the moment passed, and the desperate climax which heralded the entrance of Magdalena Kožená for “Urlicht” was highly dramatic. Kožená, standing behind the violins stage right, had immediate commanding presence, and hers was intimate and touching singing, her rich mezzo voice projecting over the orchestra beautifully. Her final “Leben” hung in the air, and then she was gone again.