In conversation with Sibelius, Mahler famously expressed that the symphony should embrace everything. His Third comes closest to realizing those lofty ambitions, a far-reaching, comprehensive creation that remains the longest symphony in the standard repertoire. At The Cleveland Orchestra podium was the dynamic Klaus Mäkelä, a presence who has quickly become a local favorite.
An arresting horn call opened the massive first movement, given with singular determination. Percussion punctuated and the chilling tones of the low brass created a remarkable soundscape from the onset. A vast expanse of terrain was traversed, from the philosophically profound to the banal fanfare of a brass band. The challenging orchestral writing was surmounted by these players with aplomb, most notably in the goosebumps-inducing trombone solo (Brian Wendel), and the wistful, yearning passages from concertmaster Liyuan Xie. By now, Mäkelä sounds like a seasoned collaborator with TCO, bringing out the best in them. A cohesion was brought to this movement’s unwieldy form and proportion, with its 35 minutes flying by in a blaze, culminating in a rapid, breathless coda.
Bold as the opening was, on Mahler’s scale it was essentially a mere introduction to the five successive movements that make up the core of the symphony. Oboe and pizzicato strings gave a gentle, carefree feeling to the Tempo di menuetto. Its lilt and charm brought to life the rippling meadows of the Austrian countryside. Imitating the cuckoo, the clarinet featured prominently in the Scherzando, oscillating between coarse and sweet. This was a movement of wide textural contrasts, with lithe, gossamer strings upended by the clangorous brass. Principal Trumpet Michael Sachs performed the offstage posthorn solo, sounding as if far into the distance. An instrument once used to signal the arrival of the mail, here it offered a down-to-earth moment of respite before matters erupted into a primal scream, as if overwhelmed by the gravity of the questions the work sought to answer.
Out of music shrouded in darkness and eerie quietude emerged the mezzo-soprano of Jennifer Johnston. Setting an excerpt from Nietzsche’s Also sprach Zarathustra, Mahler's vocal writing here is utterly unique. Johnston’s darkly-hued tone probed its profundities and pondered in meditative stasis. Joyous by contrast, the brief penultimate movement reveled in brightly ringing bells and the innocent-sounding voices of the combined Cleveland Orchestra Chorus and Children’s Chorus, though not without sterner interjections from Johnston.
It was the final movement, though, that made the strongest impression. Growing from barely a whisper was an endless, sumptuous melody, luxuriating through the gorgeous, long-bowed string playing. It built to deeply-felt climaxes in a radiant hymn, a blissful state after such a long journey one wished could have lasted forever. Past the 100-minute mark the final bars arrived, majestic and leaving the hall in glowing resound.
