Some conductors prefer to view the Alpine heights of Bruckner’s symphonic colossi from afar, contemplating its often rugged terrain with clear-eyed objectivity. But Michael Tilson Thomas will have none of that. San Francisco’s music director traveled down the coast last week, substituting for an ailing Zubin Mehta, and switching out Bruckner’s apocalyptic Ninth Symphony with the ecstatically songful Seventh. The result was altogether more lively and sinewy than is typically heard in performances of the Austrian composer’s music. In a performance of irresistible sweep and bristling with tensile strength, Tilson Thomas goaded the Los Angeles Philharmonic to meet this score head-on. Here the lofty summits weren’t merely gazed upon, but it was as if flesh and bone gripped to its granitic cliffs, scaling their way inexorably, the orchestra determined to conquer this mighty mountain.
From the opening few bars, when the cellos poured out its opening theme with a lustrous tone that seemed to emerge from another world, the Disney Hall audience was made immediately aware that this would be no ordinary Bruckner Seventh.
Though Tilson Thomas set forward on a swift course through this music, nothing ever sounded pressed or forced. Melody after melody flowed seamlessly from one to the other, textures were carefully woven, and the cathartic climaxes that shook the hall were built with imperceptible naturality. The first movement alone was impressive, with applause spontaneously erupting even as the din of its coda had yet to fully dissipate. But Tilson Thomas rightfully discerned that the symphony’s heart lay in its eloquent and soulful Adagio, with its quartet of Wagner tubas intoning the solemn melody that eventually builds up to one of Bruckner’s most impassioned climaxes. Though not mentioned in the program notes, the version employed was the Robert Haas edition, and the performance was all the better for it. Whether it’ll ever be decisively proven that the composer himself incorporated the timpani (played with matchless power and confidence by principal timpanist Joseph Pereira), triangle and cymbal that cap the movement’s climax, there is no doubt as to its effectiveness. It is a touch that intimates to the listener that what they’re hearing is not merely the climax of the Adagio, but of the entire symphony, and perhaps even of an entire period in Bruckner’s development as a composer. Transitions were made seamless under Tilson Thomas, the entire movement rising and ebbing away as if in a single breath.