Mahler: Symphony No. 4 (CD review)

Chen Reiss, soprano; Semyon Bychkov, Czech Philharmonic. Pentatone PTC 5186 972.

By John J. Puccio

During his career Gustav Mahler (1860-1911) wrote nine symphonies. Or ten if you count his final, unfinished symphony. Or eleven if you count his unnumbered symphony Das Lied von der Erde (“The Song of the Earth”). Whatever, judging by the number of recordings available, Nos. 1 and 4 are among the most popular. They are also his shortest symphonies and some of his most accessible, which could account for their allure, and this is disregarding the unfavorable reception No. 4 had upon its premiere in 1901.

With dozens of Mahler Fourth Symphony recordings currently accessible, it may seem odd that Russian conductor Semyon Bychkov and the Czech Philharmonic would choose to give us yet another one. Still, given the number of new recordings we get every year of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, Bach’s Brandenburgs, Pachelbel’s Canon, Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker, and Rachmaninov’s piano concertos, one can understand the appeal of surefire classics to sell.

So, can Bychkov’s version stand up to competing performances from the likes of George Szell (HDTT or Sony), Bernard Haitink (Philips), Fritz Reiner (RCA or RCA/JVC), Otto Klemperer (EMI), James Levine (RCA), Simon Rattle (EMI), Herbert von Karajan (DG), Colin Davis (RCA), and so many more? And is this new recording just for classical beginners, those just starting a classical collection, or will it please those classical fans who already have established favorites on their shelves?

As you probably know, Mahler intended at least his first four symphonies as extensions of one another, one following another in a kind of symbolic progression. In the First Symphony the composer describes, musically, Man’s suffering and triumph. In the Second he examines death and resurrection. In the Third he reflects upon his own existence and that of God. And one of his disciples, the conductor Bruno Walter, described the Fourth as “a joyous dream of happiness and of eternal life promises him, and us also, that we have been saved."

More specifically, the first movement, which Mahler marks as "gay, deliberate, and leisurely," begins playfully, with the jingling of sleigh bells. The second movement introduces Death into the picture, with a vaguely sinister violin motif. The slow, third-movement Adagio, marked "peacefully," is a kind of reprieve from the mysteries of Mr. Death in the previous section. Then, in the fourth and final movement, we get Mahler's vision of heaven and salvation as exemplified in the simple innocence of an old Bavarian folk song, a part of the German folk-poem collection Das Knaben Wunderhorn that Mahler loved. Here, the composer wanted the song to sound so unaffected that he insisted upon the soprano's part being sung with "child-like bright expression, always without parody."

Now, how does Maestro Bychkov handle all of this? Well, about as well as anyone and in some regards, like sensitivity, perhaps a touch better. Most of the performance seemed rather ordinary to me; good ordinary, mind you. As in something you would expect from a first-class conductor. The first movement, for instance, builds upon the simple sleigh bells into something almost monumental, and Bychkov handles these transitions with a deliberate calm, conveying the music’s spirit through the score rather than any added theatrics of his own. And why the Czech Philharmonic, by the way? We should remember that Mahler was born and raised in what is now a part of the Czech Republic; that the Czech Philharmonic is a tremendously talented ensemble, which actually premiered Mahler’s later Seventh Symphony; and that Semyon Bychkov just happens to be the Chief Conductor and Music Director of the orchestra.

Bychkov might have taken the second movement a bit more colorfully, though. It doesn’t convey quite the sinister charm I had hoped for. Bychkov approaches it rather carefully, rather leisurely, not quite communicating its full potential for eccentricity. In the slow third-movement Adagio Bychkov is, indeed, slow; slower than I think I can recall from any other conductor. But it is lovely in the extreme; just long. Then, in the finale, Bychkov has Chen Reiss as his soprano. She does project Mahler’s prescribed “child-like innocence,” which is to the good, but Bychkov seems intent on undermining it at points with a relentless forward drive. Still, it all holds up pretty well, and on the whole Bychkov’s is a satisfying rendering of the symphony. But I would never consider it a substitute for the Szell, Haitink, Reiner, Klemperer, Rattle, Levine, Karajan, or Davis recordings I mentioned at the start.

Producers Robert Hanc, Renaud Loranger, and Holger Urbach and engineers Stephan Reh and Jakub Hadraba recorded the music at the Dvorak Hall of the Rudolfinum, Prague, Czech Republic in August 2020. Pentatone made this one is two-channel stereo, so there’s no SACD multichannel involved.  Regardless, it’s quite good, with a natural frequency balance and a realistic acoustic setting. Left-to-right balance is also lifelike, with a moderate degree of depth and dimensionality. The dynamic range seems adequate for the job, although there are no moments of spectacle, no overly strong punches. It’s just solid, modern sound.

JJP