There it was: the sad, though not unexpected email informing us that Michael Tilson Thomas has been advised by his doctors to reduce his travel and concert commitments. He was to be substituted at the Toronto Symphony Orchestra by fellow American David Robertson, whose CV includes tenures with the Boulez-founded Ensemble Intercontemporain, the Orchestre National de Lyon, the St Louis Symphony and the Sydney Symphony.
Perhaps the audience would have been closer to capacity had Tilson Thomas been at the helm. Still, those in attendance were treated to high-quality, scrupulously prepared performances, especially of Mahler’s Fifth. Robertson brought a fine sense of continuity to what can come across as a fractured, puzzling narrative. At the surface level, too, his attention to detail was meticulous, without ever straying into Simon Rattle-like micro-management.
Seasoned Mahlerians may have heard more shocking contrasts and more elegiac profundity in the opening movement, more vehemence and hair-raising danger in the second. But the pivotal Scherzo benefited enormously from Robertson’s clear-sightedness. Remaining sensitive to the mercurial mood shifts, while giving every episode enough space to breathe, is no mean achievement. The obbligato horn part was taken by Neil Deland with masterful aplomb. Placing him stage left, away from his colleagues, was effective sonically, and the time it took him to reach and retake his position chimed perfectly with Mahler’s division of his five movements into three parts: two plus one plus two.
Anyone expecting the Adagietto to be a death-haunted tear-jerker à la Visconti Death in Venice might have been raised an eyebrow at Robertson’s flowing tempo. Fortunately, word has got round by now that this movement was intended, not as tearful elegy but as a love-letter to Mahler’s wife, Alma; early performances, so it seems, were comparatively swift. Certainly the Toronto Symphony strings and harp sounded entirely at home with this conception. The benefit to the wholeness of the symphony was also clear, when the theme returned in the finale, its jauntiness not disconcerting as it can be when the Adagietto has been taken too slowly. The finale itself was an explosion of youthful energy, warmth and joy, and the rapturous audience reaction was entirely merited.
Robertson kept the advertised programme intact, including Berg’s Seven Early Songs in the first half. These featured the TSO’s spotlight artist of the season and home favourite, Emily D’Angelo.
Her mezzo-soprano has a particularly dark undertone which, paired with her natural sensitivity and poise, makes it a good match for Berg’s songs. In principle at least. However, set against Berg’s kaleidoscopic orchestral accompaniment, she lacked power and variety. Favouring bel canto over clear diction (which is to say vowels over consonants), she left a rather generalised impression of these glorious, hyper-romantic songs. While she released more power in her encore – Clara Schumann’s Lorelei, arranged by Cecilia Livingston (a Canadian Opera Company composer-in-residence, and present in the audience) – she still undersold the dramatic narrative. In all this, D’Angelo could not have hoped for a more supportive cushioned accompaniment than the TSO’s.
