Mahler Dazzles at BSO

Mahler wrote his third symphony in the summer of 1895 while he was on holiday from the Hamburg Opera. He composed this symphony of seven movements in a cabin near a lake at the edge of a field. In the one room cabin there was only enough space for a baby grand a desk, chairs and a stove for heat. This symphony reflects his change of setting; it doesn't follow the style of traditional symphonies as Mahler put things together as he chose without any attention to traditional movement form. After letting his first two symphonies stand without the help of words to aid in their understanding, Mahler wrote the program for this symphony before even writing the music.

The symphony begins with the opening of summer and then proceeds in the second through seventh movements to explain the things that were told to Mahler by the inhabitants of a summer garden. This is nothing if not Romantic. According to legend, Mahler's life was almost as romantic as his music--which is obviously romantic even to the untrained ear--and if he didn't specialize in the torrid love affair, he definitely experienced a few of them. It's even more romantic that one of the most fabulous singers of the late nineties--Maxwell--who lists the great composer as one of his influences, and nobody does romance quite like Maxwell.

Most likely, the members of the Boston Symphony Orchestra have never heard of Maxwell. That didn't keep them from playing an excellent rendition of Mahler's Third Symphony last Friday to a packed house at Symphony Hall. The Symphony was accompanied by The Tanglewood Festival Chorus and the P.A.L.S. (Performing Artists at Lincoln School) and directed by Seiji Ozawa. The Orchestra played the music so pleasantly that throughout the performance they kept the audience in those most enjoyable moments just before sleep. The French horn section stood out and played beautifully in all of the sections in which they could be easily distinguished. Even the oddly-timed cymbal crash did not break the audience's reverie. The first movement was the only exception, it was very vibrant, as it told the story of the ushering in of spring. The first movement was also universally unusual because of its length, over 30 minutes, making it a full third of the length of the entire symphony.

The Tanglewood Festival Chorus and P.A.L.S. who marched in during intermission sang during the fifth movement, accompanying the soloist, American mezzo-soprano Florence Quivar. Seventy-five choir members, highly visible young ladies and younger boys and girls dressed in whit and blue framed the orchestra. The fifth movement started with P.A.L.S. singing "ding, dong, ding, dong." The Tanglewood chorus answered with wide smiles and German verse. One couldn't tell if their smiles were the stages smiles that performers have to wear or genuine glee at hearing the younger kids perform. They hadn't looked too lively on their way in, but their performance got across the joy in the piece they sang.

The stars of the evening, Mahler, Ozawa, and Quivar, were not equally matched on Friday. Though Quivar sang the German words of the fourth movement very beautifully and powerfully, and with the skill one expects of a diva, she didn't have the means to express her performance as passionately as the members of the orchestra. They moved with all of their might to make sounds that impressed the audience, yet she, singing in between their music, remained almost motionless during her performance. This stiffness was directly contrasted if not highlighted by Ozawa's spirited conducting not a foot away from her. He blocked her view at times, and she was clearly there as a supporting character. She also had the misfortune of following in the footsteps of the great Jessye Norman, who sang with the opera (and was given highest billing) on their CD recording of Mahler's third. All that's to say that Mrs. Norman did not have to play second fiddle when she sang.

Ozawa directed with all of the vivacity that the audience expects. Though the conductor must lead the orchestra well, which he did because the music was beautiful, he also has the responsibility of entertaining the audience. His fabulous hair and coattails flailed as he brought in this group and excused this section and held his pose for a moment just for effect. By the end he had performed superbly for the people on both sides of him; the audience was his.

At the end, in the midst of a standing ovation, which isn't given at the BSO, the conductor and the diva share a kiss. The audience, composed of older couples who probably think of going to such an event as this the way most people think about going to the movies and younger men looking to impress their dates, eased into the standing ovation the way people stand to do the wave at a sporting event. It was as if they weren't quite sure how to act around each other. In the end, they decided that they performance was worth the effort it took to stand and the much-needed applause went on for several minutes after that.