Amsterdam’s Concertgebouw is currently the “Mecca for Mahler”. Six orchestras from around the world plus choirs, soloists, music academics and professionals, plus some rather famous conductors, can all be found lining the corridors and bars of the Concertgebouw for an eleven-day festival featuring performances of all ten Mahler symphonies as well as the complete song repertoire, curated by pianist Julian Drake. Devoted Mahler fans of every creed and colour, many of whom are in Amsterdam for the duration, can hear performances from the Chicago Symphony, the Berliner Philharmoniker, the NHK Symphony and, of course, the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra.
On the stage this Sunday morning were Iván Fischer and the Budapest Festival Orchestra for their second performance of Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony. Originally conceived as a symphonic poem entitled Todtenfeier (Funeral Rites), the first movement joins the First Symphony’s hero on his final journey in Mahler’s exploration of life and death, but now with the additional promise of resurrection and immortality. The work received its Dutch premiere with the RCO here in 1904, conducted by Mahler himself.
From the outset, both conductor and orchestra had the measure of the hall. Toying with the acoustics, Fischer allowed time for bottom notes to resonate and for tantalisingly quiet tremolo violins to draw the audience in. Carefully crafted moments of great delicacy and stillness intensified climaxes which now became something of a release. And when the percussionists unleashed two tam-tams standing right in front of the organ pipes, the whole Concertgebouw shook. As the timpani knocked at heaven’s door with the hardest of sticks, the full wrath of God was unleashed, the result exhilarating.
The Andante embraced the full spirit of an Austrian Ländler, Fischer not only embracing but positively encouraging the cheekiness in Mahler’s writing. As the violins donned their bows and adopted a banjo-like position for their pizzicatos, a mischievous piccolo made a playful response.
Soprano Christiane Karg and mezzo-soprano Anna Lucia Richter descended those famous Concertgebouw steps for the third movement, both radiant in blue. Standing tall, the E flat clarinet sashayed and swooned – the hero was having fun! Before long though, the bass drum’s rods became skeletons, shaking in the closet, the lower brass leading the way as harbingers of doom. Urlicht, using text from Des Knaben Wunderhorn, opened tenderly with Richter’s “O little red rose”. Answered sensitively by a subdued trumpet chorale, her merciful caresses were worth the wait.
God and Mahler, however, have other plans. Heavenly off-stage trumpets and horns anticipated the earth-shattering finale with each musician on stage coming together in a perfect union. Fischer summoned God’s glory, full of depth and gravity. The trumpet’s top notes pierced the soul but, in the distance, percussion rolls beckoned, thundering and waking souls long lost from this world. Out of the ashes, a lone trombone pleaded, rudely interrupted by an off-stage marching band. This Day of Judgement felt truly real.
Attention shifted to the compelling voices of the Netherlands Radio Choir, the bearers of immortal life. Karg lovingly hinted that “not all was lost” and Richter gently persuaded those left to “cease from trembling”. Mahler’s setting of Klopstock’s secular Resurrection Ode perfectly matched the serenity and intensity of the moment as voices soared effortlessly. “Sterben werd’ ich, um zu leben!” (I shall die in order to live!) was as mighty as one could wish for, Mahler’s message glorious in all its magnificence. With bells ringing loud, and horn bells aloft, there was not a dry eye in the house. On Day 4 of this festival, Mahler’s message to “Rise again, yes rise again” rang loud and clear.
