Prom 32 featured two works written in the same year, 1878, by composers who worked mainly in the same city, Vienna. Brahms was an established composer when he wrote his Violin Concerto for his virtuoso friend Joseph Joachim, while Mahler was just 17 when he started writing Das klagende Lied for a competition (the version played tonight was completed in 1880). Both works can be classed as "late romantic", but they could hardly be more different: the Brahms is formal and elegant, thoroughly within its classical tradition, while the Mahler is packed with different themes and textures, groundbreaking and epic in scale.
Conductor Edward Gardner is more usually found in the orchestra pit of opera houses than on the concert podium, but you wouldn't have known it from his performance of the Brahms. I've heard him many times before but never seen more than the back of his head, and it was striking to see the way in which he exerted fine control over every detail, frequently changing his focus between orchestra members and marking his intentions precisely. The result was pin-point accuracy, an immaculate balance of timbre and phrases that were polished and perfectly weighted. The woodwind players in particular seemed to revel in it: the marvellous oboe solo at the beginning of the Adagio soared through the hall. Soloist Christian Tetzlaff also turned in an extraordinary performance. The Brahms concerto is supposed to be one of the hardest in the repertoire with its complicated, shifting phrasing and a ferocious array of double and triple stops. Tetzlaff made it look like a walk in the park: violinists in the audience were watching in awe at his formidable technique.
I feel mean to say it, but it was almost too good. There's an oft-repeated gag that the work is a "concerto for violin against orchestra:" Tetzlaff was so technically fluent that there was barely a contest. The result was a classically near-perfect performance of great elegance and beauty, but I missed that last edge of excitement of a virtuoso playing at the edge of the possible.
Tetzlaff gave us a lovely treat for an encore, playing the Gavotte from Bach's E major Violin Partita as a light hearted dance: lilting, effortless and delightful.
Das klagende Lied (usually translated "Song of Lamentation") is a work on an altogether grander scale, with a huge on-stage orchestra, a second orchestra off-stage, SATB soloists and a full choir augmented by a small children's choir. The words are written by Mahler in the form of a mediaeval ballad about a pair of brothers who compete for the love of a queen: one murders the other, whose bone is made into a flute which sings his lament when played. The story unfolds in around an hour of music, with different combinations of voices telling the story, interspersed with orchestral passages of varying length. It's a quite remarkable work in several ways.