Gustav Mahler’s Eighth Symphony is a challenge not only musically but logistically. Mahler is said to have had at his disposal 850 choristers and an orchestra of 157. Recent evidence suggests the chorus was smaller, but there were still approximately five times as many choristers as instrumentalists at the premiere. The Boston Symphony here deployed a more equal combination: 127 in the orchestra and 166 in the chorus, 31 of whom were boys from the St Paul’s Choir School taking up the front left corner of the First Balcony. An extension eliminated several more rows of seats on the floor, pushing the lip of the stage on both sides well under the overhang of the balcony. The chorus stood on risers behind the orchestra while seven of the soloists were on either side of the podium, the women to the conductor’s left, the men to his right. The limpid-voiced Ying Fang’s Mater Gloriosa floated her angelic Part 2 “Komm” from on high in the second balcony, which also hosted the brass ensemble.
There were lapses in orchestral ensemble and entrances which will likely vanish in subsequent performances, but issues with balance between orchestra and voices led to frequent covering. Fortunately the Tanglewood Festival Chorus refrained from straining and delivered a powerful performance which aptly surmounted their music’s many difficulties. Unfortunately, the boy’s choir needed more members, or a different location, to be reliably audible.
Andris Nelsons led with assurance, sensitivity and drive. Part 1 opened with a joyous bang that pinned you to the back of the seat and blazed to a rapturous, uplifting “Gloria” of pealing voices. The ensemble of soloists, both individually and together, was excellent but somewhat marred by Heldentenor Andreas Schager. Though his voice consistently pierced through the din, he tended to overtop his colleagues and skew the expected blend when they sang together.
After a brief pause to seat latecomers, Part 2 began its oratorio-like progress of colors and emotions from dark to light, somber to ecstatic. The opening prelude painted a spectral scene for the Anchorites who, in their isolation, are somewhere between heaven and earth. Michael Nagy’s warm baritone lent a consoling quality to the Pater Ecstaticus’ solo plaint, but Ryan Speedo Green’s Pater Profundus was all dark despair, longing for release from “chains of pain”.
With the appearance of the angels bearing Faust’s spirit, Nelsons began to kindle the light and and his tempi became more expansive. The tessitura of the tenor part had been no problem for Schrager, so his Doctor Marianus showed no signs of strain and made an unusually strong impression. He even managed to modulate his voice somewhat from his stentorian Part 1. Latonia Moore, Mihoko Fujimura and Gerhild Romberger sharply individuated their contrasting solos then came together like a whisper of the divine. Christine Goerke let the words of her supplication as much as the riches of a voice imbued with tenderness make the case for Faust’s redemption. Nelsons did not rush the Chorus Mysticus. It bloomed gradually and deliberately. He also made the singular choice to broaden the tempo further as the final cadence approached, creating unprecedented tension and momentarily suspending resolution. Unusual, but it definitely increased the ultimate dramatic impact.
Whatever Mahler was able to conjure at the premiere, the constraints of different venues often hobble a conductor’s best efforts at balance and clarity. So it goes with the turf that any live performance of the Eighth will be compromised in some fashion. What matters is what can be achieved under the circumstances and in this case the results were a well thought-out, fearless, affirmation of hope which drew its listeners ever upwards into the realm of ecstasy.
