This was always going to be one of the hottest tickets of Toronto Symphony’s season. Mahler’s longest symphony is a collective journey, on a cosmic scale from the Dionysian force of Nature to the divine-human fusion of Love. Hearing it live, with its dramatic on- and off-stage effects, is crucial to its sonic and spiritual perspectives.
Fortunately, unlike the previous TSO Mahler Third in 2016 under Peter Oundjian, conductor Gustavo Gimeno didn’t break the journey by adding a full intermission after the massive first movement, instead observing a long(-ish) pause. To offset the possibility of burnout, he kept power in reserve and didn’t drive the orchestra to the edge. His instinct for the emotional thread that blends one section with another allowed the first movement’s life force to break through as it should – stage by stage, episode by episode, with plenty of room for both Mahler’s mood swings and the devil in the detail to register. It was only the chaotic climaxes, such as the episode depicting what Mahler called the "rabble", and the coda as Summer and life finally triumph, that fell a little short on urgency and euphoric exuberance.
The deceptively carefree "Flower" second movement was at once delicate and fresh, with a subtle lilt that made the transitions to and from its stormier episodes all the more natural. The succeeding "What the Animals tell me" was a vivid canvas of colours and shapes, alternating playful humour and dark mystery. Its melancholic offstage post horn solo was performed on a C cornet, in a naturally flowing tempo and with consummate ease, by Andrew McCandless, the TSO’s principal trumpet, marking his final performance with the orchestra in style – just one of many fine solos of the evening.
The flaring up at the end of this movement is a turning point in the symphony, leading to its dark heart in the Nietzsche setting addressed to mankind. Unfortunately, well-meaning audience applause detracted from the effect of the sudden mood shift. Gerhild Romberger’s naturally warm mezzo-soprano (the score asks for an alto) should be well enough suited to Mahler’s evocation of midnight angst giving way to glimpses of eternity. But she was evidently not on form on the night I attended (the first of the three), as she struggled with accuracy and intonation. Her tone was disappointingly monochrome and her interpretation matter-of-fact. If the oboe/cor anglais responses were also unhappy, the blame could be laid at the score itself. Any performance that seeks, as this one, to take its requested quasi-portamento literally is likely to sound not so much like a "call of Nature" as merely off-colour.
The fifth movement was a burst of joy, thanks to the Toronto Children’s Chorus’s angelic “bimm, bamm” bell imitations. They managed to outshine the sopranos and altos of the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir, who could have benefited from a larger cohort – perhaps even a second chorus – in order to make the necessary impact. The neatly choreographed standing down was a charming way of negotiating the notoriously problematic transition to the hushed opening of the finale. Caring and noble, this was more contemplative than reverential, which may be no bad thing. Gimeno’s ability to sustain long lines carried us through to the liberating and radiant conclusion, making a fitting end to an inspiring season.
