Symphony No. 9

    Once again I have played through the first movement of Mahler's
    Ninth symphony; the first movement is the most heavenly thing
    Mahler ever wrote. It is the expression of an exceptional fondness
    for this earth, the longing to live in peace on it, to enjoy nature to
    its depths - before death comes.

    Alban Berg, in a letter to his future wife.

    Der Abschied might well have been used as the title of the ninth
    symphony. ... The first movement grew to be a tragically moving
    and noble paraphrase of the farewell feeling. A unique soaring
    between farewell sadness and a vision of Heavenly Light...

    Bruno Walter.

    The great and unearthly Rondo-song which forms its first
    movement is a rare example of music influenced by Beethoven's
    last period.

    Harold Truscott.

Having managed to cheat fate, as it were, by calling his Ninth symphony a
song cycle, Mahler returned to purely orchestral writing. The ninth, composed
in 1909, is, like Das Lied, very much the work of a man who is aware of his
mortality. The first movement, which opens with an irregular rhythm said to
represent his faltering heartbeat, has been called the greatest single symphonic
movement he ever wrote.

Again, as Mahler did not live to conduct this work, the premiere was given by
Bruno Walter, in Vienna on June 26, 1912.

Once again Walter leaves us two recordings: the first is an amazing live
version, recorded in Vienna on January 16th., 1938. Not only is this a unique
document of the work's first interpreter with the first orchestra that ever played
it, it is also the swansong of the pre-war Vienna Philharmonic: mere weeks later
the Nazis invaded Austria and the orchestra was purged of its Jewish members
- including Walter. Allowances must, of course, be made for the sound but the
intensity of the performance sweeps all before it. This version is on a single
budget (EMI) CD and won the Gramophone's historic reissue award
(non-vocal) for 1988.

Walter's second recording, from 1961 with the Columbia SO (Sony), has been
reissued as part of Sony's Bruno Walter Edition. The remastered recording
sounds very well indeed, and there is a depth to this performance which might
surprise some. The weak link is undoubtedly the third movement, which
comes across as rather bland, but the rest is very good, and Walter's coda to
the first movement remains the most magical I have ever heard.

There are several other versions I should not want to live without: Klemperer's
stoic 1967 recording (EMI), made after a serious illness; Haitink's 1969 version
with the Concertgebouw (Philips), beautifully recorded; Abbado's digital VPO
version, which is much better than the live performance I heard him give with
the LSO in London in 1986, and is possibly the best recorded of all;
Barbirolli's 1963 Berlin Philharmonic performance, reissued on a single CD
(EMI) is also a great bargain. Karajan would, for many years, for some reason,
not conduct Mahler and it was Barbirolli who established a Mahler tradition in
Berlin. Although even now, as Simon Rattle said with astonishment after
conducting the sixth with the BPO, "there are still members of the orchestra
who think that Richard Strauss was a greater composer than Mahler!"

That, of course, brings us to the famous 1982 BPO Karajan recording. Karajan
recorded the ninth twice within 18 months. The first, analogue, recording only
appeared on LP (although it has belatedly appeared on CD since the last
version of this survey), the second, made live at the Berlin festival in digital
sound, only on CD - one of the first, if not the very first, recording not to be
issued on LP.

Much hoopla was made of the performance at the time - it won the
Gramophone's record of the year award - and still is: witness the Gramophone
Good CD Guide which, ludicrously to my mind, claims that when the history
of 20th century recording comes to be written, this will rank as one of its high
points! Ridiculous! (But presumably written by Richard Osborne, Karajan's
representative on earth). It is certainly fine, but somehow, for me at any rate
(and for others I know), it doesn't wear as well as the others I have mentioned
- and anyway is not as good as his 1981 analogue version.

There is also a live LSO/Horenstein recording on the Music and Arts label -
available in specialist shops. This was recorded live at a BBC promenade
concert in 1966. I was present at that concert and am delighted to say that my
memory of a very special occasion is not at fault. Despite some orchestral
flubs and indifferent recording this is the most amazing Mahler 9 I know.
Horenstein knew exactly how far he could push his orchestra: the final
movement clocks in at 28:40, possibly the slowest ever (even slower than
Bernstein I think) and the LSO can (just) handle it. Compare with his French
National Orchestra performance of 1967 on Disques Montaignes, where with a
lesser band he takes it several minutes faster. A very great performance indeed.
For an example of Horenstein's superb control, try the third movement Rondo
Burleske. After the slower central section most conductors go back to tempo I
and then have something of a struggle maintaining the interest until the final
accelerando. Horenstein leads back from the central section at a speed which
is only slightly faster and then maintains a gradual acceleration right to the end
of the movement. Incredible.

Horenstein's 1966 LSO performance is certainly the one to get; although both
his French National Orchestra (1967) and American SO (1969) performances
are better recorded, neither is as well played - not that the LSO is perfect! - nor
are they as intense.

Horenstein's 1953 performance is also available on a Vox CD. Again a great
performance in (barely) competent mono.

Maderna's Ninth, like his Fifth and Seventh, is for collectors and fans of the
conductor rather than the general listener. Again he is cursed with a
second-rate orchestra and indifferent recording. His approach, though, is very
personal: the first movement fluctuates between very fast and very slow tempi
(try the opening, which is very slow indeed), which unfortunately results in
some missed cues and generally sloppy playing. His finale, too, is unusually
quick, although it never sounds hurried, and the great central climax is very
well managed: the high exposed violin notes (which echo the rhythmic motif of
the work's opening) are very deliberately spaced out and followed by a
significant pause, before the orchestra rushes into the tutti which follows. It is
interesting to compare this passage with Solti's (LSO) which, at a similar
tempo, merely sounds sentimentalised and maudlin.

Masur's recent NYPO run through (Teldec) strikes me as exactly that. He
seems to skate over the depths of the first movement - I'm sure that his tempo
is only partially the reason I feel this - and there is no bite to either the sound or
much of the playing. The second movement is probably the best, but that is
really to damn with faint praise. I know the New York Philharm,onic have a
Mahler tradition, but I think Masur should stick to what he's best at, and
judging by this and his equally dull First, Mahler is not it.