GRAMOPHONE Review: Mahler Symphony No. 7 – Tonhalle-Orchester Zürich/Järvi
There have been a couple of stand-out recordings of Mahler’s ‘rogue’ Seventh in recent times – none more illuminating or hard to beat than Rattle’s Bavarian RSO account – but after Paavo Järvi’s brilliant rendering of the fledgling First Symphony with his Zurich orchestra I was more than ready for this.
What I really like about Järvi’s Mahler is his acute understanding of the musical language and most especially its volatility. He’s really in synch with those dramatic volte-faces be they driven by tempo or dynamics or both. And he’s not shy of the extremes or indeed from encouraging ugly sounds. It’s all part of the Mahlerian palette, of course, but so many conductors try to clean up this music and ease us into those sometimes very awkward transitions. At that point it ceases to be Mahler.
Communicating that style to 90-plus players is the real challenge, of course, and what I like particularly about Järvi’s Mahler with the Tonhalle-Orchester is his and their idiomatic way with not just sound but phrasing – all those complex hairpin rubatos which give the music its character and for the most part are clearly indicated in the scores. The rapt middle section of the first movement – a sudden departure to remoteness, far from the madding crowd – has him shaping that beautiful theme in such a way as to make it really personal.
There is something quite atavistic about his first movement generally, an elemental coarseness about the tenor tuba and the landscape it inhabits. He doesn’t rise to the climactic processional with quite the pagan relish you find with Rattle or Bernstein – but it’s immediacy is still exciting.
The inner movements – two Nachtmusiks and a spooky scherzo – are full of personality. The ripeness of the call and response horn solos and the impulsiveness of the dance music gives it great rusticity. The scherzo shrieks and slides with impunity and there’s an overriding sense that the term sforzando might easily have been created here. That fffff slap-pizzicato at one point feels like the loudest note in the piece and there are bassoon farts that could hardly be ruder. The sentimentality of the second nachtmusik is lovingly addressed with guitar and mandolin very ‘present’ in the mix.
As for the ‘gathering of the Guilds’ all-dancing finale, Rattle’s Bavarians really dig their heels in and go for broke but I like Järvi’s excitability and appreciation of the un-fancy footwork. And he doesn’t disappoint in the coda with a huge crescendo into the bell-laden final pages.
Rattle’s Bavarian cycle is proving supremely satisfying and in this piece he surely takes the palm – but Järvi has the measure of this music for sure and I am excited for the rest of the cycle.
