If Heaven exists, I picture an endless summer afternoon set against a backdrop of verdant rolling hills. Gentle breezes carry the scent of wildflowers through the air, and a soundtrack of Mahler’s Fourth Symphony can be heard in the background. Tanglewood supplied a preview of such an experience this past weekend, with a performance by the Boston Symphony Orchestra of this sneakily complex work that surpassed anything I’ve heard in these environs over the past several seasons. The secret ingredient may have been debuting conductor James Gaffigan, an American maestro well represented in Europe who still remains undiscovered on large swaths of his home turf.
Interpretations of the Symphony no. 4 in G major often focus on the composer’s supposed desire to capture an idyllic vision of both corporeal world and angelic realm. That view only tells half the story though. As seen across Mahler’s canon, the piece drips with a palpable sense of irony, both in its zesty orchestration, which mixes high and low styles and instruments, and in its overarching message. Gaffigan threaded that needle seamlessly across the architecture of the hour-long work, launching with a Mozartian opener notable for its lightness, jollity and balance. The music gradually took on a more sinister undertone across the first movement’s many repeats, injecting a tremor of unease into the section’s upbeat mood. That push-and-pull carried over into the second movement, especially as the relaxed trios enveloped the passages played on scordatura violin. (Stalwart Associate Concertmaster Alexander Velinzon occupied the first chair for this performance, rather than the recently installed Nathan Cole.) Gaffigan maintained a genuine sense of serenity throughout the Adagio until the crashing final bars, which felt appropriately jarring.
The conductor found a suitable partner in Cuban-American soprano Elena Villalón, who balanced the mood of Das himmlische Leben between sincerity and sardonic wit. Here is another example of Mahler’s caustic wit: the speaker of the poem is ostensibly a dead child, who extols the peacefulness of Heaven in one breath and vividly describes the slaughter of an innocent lamb in the next. Villalón began with an intentionally light, almost juvenile tone, which gained in richness and expressivity as the language and music grew more graphic. She coped admirably with Gaffigan’s fleet tempo in the middle section, before returning to an almost whispered solemnity for the conclusion. Despite a flub from the English horn in the postlude and the occasional unwieldy entrance throughout, this was an interpretation to remember. Several US orchestras will have Music Director vacancies in the coming years. Gaffigan’s name should be on many a shortlist.
Villalón brought an unusually luscious tone to two Mozart arias: “Padre, germani, addio!” from Idomeneo and “Deh vieni, non tardar” from Le nozze di Figaro. She demonstrated superb intonation, especially in the unaccompanied opening moments of the first aria, shading the words with meaningful emotion. This made up for a tendency to overdose on recital acting, with simpering gestures for Susanna and a pouting countenance for Ilia. Gaffigan drew admirable legato phrases from the strings, although the introduction of the theme in “Deh vieni” from the woodwinds sounded oddly deflated.
Anna Clyne’s Sound and Fury opened the concert. Speaking from the stage, the composer cited as inspiration Haydn’s Symphony no. 60 (“Il distratto”) and Shakespeare’s Macbeth. The influence of the former could be heard in quotations, slyly repeated phrases and a direct imitation, when Clyne has the strings re-tune during a climactic phrase. Gaffigan built a palpable sense of tension amid the sections of the orchestra, and percussionist J William Hudgins was especially memorable on the xylophone. Clyne layers Macbeth’s “Tomorrow” soliloquy – the source of the title – over a repeated phrase, in a move that seems more clever in theory than practice. This gesture might be more effective if performed live rather than pre-recorded, or spoken by a bona fide actor. Even without the direct incorporation of the source material, though, the 15-minute piece regularly conjured up a level of gripping drama worthy of “The Scottish Play”.
