Vladimir Jurowski stood motionless on the podium for a while as the London Philharmonic Orchestra players (and the audience) summoned the concentration needed for this mighty score, right from its first page. Nonetheless the LPO, who played brilliantly for their Conductor Emeritus almost throughout Mahler's Ninth Symphony, did not quite nail this opening, which seemed hesitant in the wrong sense. Those fragments for pianissimo cellos, shuddering violas, with stopped horn and harps both marked forte (which they weren’t) last just six bars but are, of course, pregnant with future meaning. But the second violins then sang the main theme sweetly and players and conductor warmed to their work. The two big climaxes arrived inexorably, and the second of them (marked fff and “with utmost force”) was less a climax than a catastrophe, followed by a collapse. The shock waves persisted through the funereal recapitulation to the exhausted close. No wonder Jurowski had a chair near his podium to take a short break before continuing.
Most early commentators on this work saw it as a ‘death-haunted farewell’, influenced by the despairing commentary Mahler scribbled on his manuscript, and the intensity of the outer movements. But this can devalue the inner movements which, despite parodistic elements, are essentially life-affirming, at least when played like this. The second movement, taken at a speed which seemed an ideal response to the composer’s request for “the tempo of an unhurried Ländler”, from the very trenchant first statement on second violins (placed to the conductor’s right) through the various episodes so affectionately characterised by Jurowski, who often encouraged softer playing. The Rondo-Burleske featured some very athletic musicianship, especially in the fugato episodes, with playing as swift as Bruno Walter’s 1938 premiere recording, Jurowski taking the same time of 11 minutes. The coda was electrifyingly brought off, but there was little pause to recover this time, even after such a virtuoso tour de force.