Mahler: Symphony No. 7 (SACD review)

Osmo Vanska, Minnesota Orchestra. BIS BIS-2386 SACD.

By John J. Puccio

The first time I heard the Mahler Seventh (on vinyl) must have been sometime in the early 1960’s. I can’t remember the conductor, and it didn’t impress me much. Then, much later, I heard Bernard Haitink’s first, analogue recording with the Concertgebouw Orchestra, and I fell in love with it. I never found the recording on CD, and I believe it only appeared in a box set. Fortunately, Haitink recorded it several more times in digital with the Concertgebouw and Berlin orchestras, plus I had the pleasure of being in the audience to listen to him and his Concertgebouw Orchestra perform it at Davies Symphony Hall in San Francisco, and I loved it even more.

So, why am I rattling on about Bernard Haitink and the Concertgebouw Orchestra when this is a review about Osmo Vanska and the Minnesota Orchestra? Because they remind me a lot of Haitink and his old crew, and for me that is one of the greatest compliments I can give to Vanska. I enjoyed this recording.

The Seventh Symphony has always been one of Gustav Mahler’s more problematic and ambiguous works. It’s a transitional piece connecting the darker Sixth Symphony with the triumphant Eighth. Of course, musical scholars point out how Mahler connected all nine (or ten or eleven) of his symphonies, forming one grand musical statement. If there is a grand scheme in things Mahler, the Seventh has long been the neglected stepchild of the lot. While the other symphonies get most of the love, the Seventh often goes wanting for recordings and performances.

Mahler (1860-1911) wrote his Symphony No. 7 in E minor in 1904-05. Along with the Fifth and Sixth Symphonies, the Seventh forms a middle trio of Mahler symphonies, all of them purely orchestral, with the Seventh being the oddest of the group. Even more so than most of Mahler’s works, its five movements are open to multiple interpretations, especially with the subtitle “Song of the Night.” I remember one critic once explaining that the symphony was a recounting by Mahler of a trip to the countryside, complete with his packing of suitcases, traveling through rural roads, along pastures, and on to his destination. Other critics see its five movements more generally as a journey from dusk until dawn or a nighttime walk into the morning, the whole thing a kind of eccentric, extended nocturne. If Eugene O’Neill wrote Long Day’s Journey into Night, you might consider Mahler’s Seventh a “Long Night’s Journey into Day.”

Osmo Vanska

Anyhow, the last time I reviewed Vanska doing Mahler, it was the First Symphony, where I thought Vanska was a little undernourished compared to the more pronounced realizations of conductors like Solti (HDTT or Decca), Mackerras (EMI), Horenstein (Unicorn), Kubelik (DG), Bernstein (DG and Sony), and Tennstedt (EMI). But here in the Seventh, it’s different. Vanska’s more gentle view of the subject is a welcome change from some of the overcharged, exaggerated, sometimes brutal accounts we often get. Vanska’s vision is one I can live with.

Mahler declared his Seventh Symphony his “best work” and its character “preponderantly cheerful,” probably because of the “tragic” nature of his preceding Sixth Symphony. Accordingly, Vanska approaches the Seventh with a lighter touch than, say, Solti or Abbado would.

The symphony has five movements: an opening and closing that act as sort of daylight bookends, and two Nachtmusiks on either side of a central scherzo. It’s really these “night music” sections that are at the core of the work. They are sweet, capricious, and eerie at the same time, as Vanska illustrates. Perhaps the first Nachtmusik is an early evening nocturne and the second an early morning nocturne. Mahler left no program for the music, so it’s up to the conductor and the listener to interpret things for themselves. Vanska employs a delicate hand with both Nachtmusiks. Then there’s that scherzo in the middle, which clearly relates to the surrounding Nachtmusik in that Mahler subtitles it “Shadowy.” If we see the music as a journey through the long hours of the night, surely the scherzo is around the witching time of midnight. Vanska takes the swirling waltz-like melodies at a graceful tempo, though, the whole thing floating above the fray.

The symphony ends on a jubilant, triumphant, Wagnerian note, which again perplexed some early critics who couldn’t see its connection to the musical moods that came before it. It does kind of pop up out of nowhere, yet Vanska’s conciliatory touch draws them pleasingly, if not entirely convincingly, together.

OK, so I liked Vanska’s recording. Does that mean I would recommend it ahead of Haitink’s? Well, think about it. Osmo Vanska is an excellent conductor, and the Minnesota Orchestra is one of the best in the country. Bernard Haitink is a great conductor, and the Concertgebouw Orchestra is one of the best in the world. However, Haitink’s Concertgebouw recording is hard to find anymore, what with Philips being long gone. And not only is Vanska’s recording easily available, it’s just short enough (without being rushed) to (barely) fit on a single disc. All things considered, Vanska’s Mahler Seventh is another top choice to consider.

Producer Robert Suff and engineer Thore Brinkmann recorded the symphony in Orchestra Hall, Minneapolis, Minnesota in November 2018. They made the recording in hybrid SACD for either multichannel surround or two-channel stereo from the SACD layer or two-channel stereo from the regular CD layer. I listened in SACD two-channel stereo. Here, you’ll find smooth, balanced, concert hall sound that complements the music nicely. While it’s a bit dark and detailing may not be as pinpoint accurate as some audiophiles might prefer, it is fairly realistic. And timpani are especially well served.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below: