TCHAIKOVSKY: Symphony No. 5 in E Minor, Op. 64; LISZT: Mazeppa, S. 100 – Bavarian Radio-Symphony Orchestra/ Zubin Mehta – BR KLASSIK 900207 (59:55) [Distr. by Naxos] ****:
Zubin Mehta (b. 1936) enjoys a long familiarity with and palpable affection for his chosen repertory, and these live performances from Munich, 25 February and 1 March 2013 testify to the spontaneous energy and driven intensity Mehta elicits from orchestral ensembles sympathetic to his aims. Mehta approaches Tchaikovsky’s 1888 “abandonment to Fate” Symphony No. 5 as a studied construct in opposition between rhythmic, martial energies and lyrical, melodic attempts to assuage the sense of the inevitable. Given Mehta’s passion for the heroic impulse in music, the performance quickly assumes the kind of colossal grandeur we know from previous efforts from Koussevitzky, Mravinsky, and Bernstein. The martial motto theme manages to permeate each of the successive movements after the initial Andante – Allegro con anima, the Bavarian Radio Symphony winds and brass in resonant form. The lyrical gestures assume a balletic cast, a foil to the feverish intensities and explosions, or convulsions, in the course of the spiritual journey. The warm sonority of the BRSO string line prevents the interpretation’s assuming the glacial, existential detachment Mravinsky effects with his Leningrad Philharmonic.
For beauty of orchestral tone, the second movement Andante cantabile, con alcuna licenza provides ample opportunity for French horn and assorted woodwinds to display their luxurious sonorities, soon assisted by sighing string lines. The “fate” motif asserts itself forcefully, over a rolling timpani, then immediately comforted by the lyric theme for oboe, accompanying winds, and strings. The lyric theme receives from Mehta the apotheosis it craves, only to be assaulted by the militant fanfare of “fate,” wherein the lyrical theme offers a nervous consolation.
Ensues one of Tchaikovsky’s major contributions to music, a lilting Valse: Allegro moderato, stated in the strings, answered by the winds. A brief scherzo intervenes, balletic and light-footed. With extensions of the melodic line from oboe, flute, and bassoon, the music becomes elegiac, though once more yielding to the wind-borne remembrance of the “fate” motif that makes one last assertion before the Finale: Andante maestoso – Allegro vivace. Happily, Mehta plays the uncut version of this last movement, ignoring the “authorized” cut in the development section. While the “Fate” motif temporarily progresses a major-key march, the urge to emotional chaos explodes forth, a real contest of existential forces. The BRSO brass assert themselves, while the winds and sliding strings lead us the pre-ordained, pandemonium in heaven. I could wish for more expressivity here, in the stretti. The transition, a bit too marcato for my taste, takes us to a renewed conflict of impulses. But now Mehta has the urgent momentum he desires, and the flow confronts us directly with an ennobled Fate, a militant call to arms. So, virtually in the spirit of Schumann’s Davids-League, the triumphal march gathers itself for a last, heroic proclamation, demanding a whirlwind coda.
Mehta turns his attentions to a piece he has prior recorded, Franz Liszt’s 1851 symphonic poem after Victor Hugo, Mazeppa, the Ukrainian nobleman humiliated and then revived by Cossacks to lead his people in triumph. Arranged for orchestra by Liszt from his bravura Transcendental Etude for piano, the piece became a popular calling card in American motion pictures, accompanying sea-battles starring Errol Flynn. The classic, great, even ferocious, recorded performances, by Oskar Fried and Herbert von Karajan, exploited the brass effects – with triple-tonguing – and color impulses from often pizzicato strings.
The piece is divided into three sections that correspond to Mazeppa’s mad ride – instigated by the crack of a whip – naked, backwards, on horseback (Allegro agitato); his slow recovery among the Cossacks (Andante); and his resurrected self in full possession of arms and the will to victory (Allegro marziale). The formula seems common to Liszt. Since it may well apply to the character of his piano concertos. Mehta’s trumpets prove alert enough, as does his timpani player, along with the rest of the battery section. “Audace, audace,” admonished General Patton, and Liszt well captures the brilliant and self-glorifying elements of national, militant heroism.
—Gary Lemco
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