Cleveland Orchestra @ Severance Hall 10/13 Gustav Mahler was apparently always concerned with mortality. It should hardly be a surprise, then, that after the calamitous year of 1907, he would write a massive symphony that was significantly retrospective. Nothing can be worse than the loss of a dearly-loved child (in this instance, a daughter), but being forced out of his position at the Viennese Opera House, and then learning of his own terminal heart condition, must have seemed to him to be adding insult upon insult to an already crucial injury. It’s no wonder his heart failed.

I kept thinking about this year in his life as I listened to the Cleveland Orchestra in performance of Mahler’s 9th Symphony at Severance Hall on Thursday evening. Music Director Franz Welser-Möst was by turns sympathetic and authoritative in communicating his wishes to the musicians. It is a huge work with many miniscule details that could be easily lost in the sweeping nature of the piece, yet these tiny little episodes were treated with as much respect as were the large ones.

It may be fanciful, but I could only too easily picture Gustav and Alma thumbing through a photo album of their lives together, knowing as they did, that the days left to them were few. If you listen to the music, you’ll find clues to their shared years and experiences. There were happy days, loving days, times that were perhaps not so happy. At one point there was clearly a sleigh ride in the snow. There was a fanfare—perhaps a trip to visit the Emperor. Near the end of the first movement was a gorgeous horn and flute duo (Richard King and Joshua Smith, respectively) that led to a flute solo that would have melted the hardest heart.

Mahler’s well-known fondness for the ländler, was on this occasion, ‘the cosmopolitan Mahler goes rustic’, with tipsy musicians playing for an even more tipsy audience. He would surely have enjoyed this unbuttoned performance.

The rondo-burleske of the third movement opened with a ‘fate’ motif, of the ‘and then I—‘ which was mostly upbeat, but with the occasional sardonic comment. There was the lovely young Alma, and, perhaps indicative of her sometimes flirtatious manner, there was another ländler, this one of a rather frenetic nature, skittering here and there.

But finally, one must face the truth, and in the fourth movement adagio, we find a reposeful Mahler, in some of the most gorgeous music ever written by anyone. The performance was awesome. The double basses (at the side of the stage once again) provided a sturdy foundation on which Mr. Welser-Möst built transparent layers of sound: violins in an eerie high register, with the contra-bassoon of Jonathan Sherwin snuggling down underneath. It was supersoft—barely audible, especially considering the attack of coughing that prevailed in the audience during the last five minutes or so of the concert. One word, only, can adequately describe the effort of the musicians and that is passion. It was a totally committed performance.

To open the concert, the orchestra and Mr. Welser-Möst presented the United States premiere of this years Roche/Lucerne commission – Si Ji by the young Chinese-American composer Chen Yi. The world premiere was in August as part of the Lucerne Festival, and on October 17, they’ll give the first New York performance in Carnegie Hall. Si Ji (pronounced Soo Gee) is a musical imagery of four seasons in China, where they’re not quite the same as here. Based on poems of nearly a thousand years ago, Ms. Chen writes vividly and in a very picturesque fashion for the large orchestra. Spring is full of sun shimmering on the lake as the earth comes to life in an energetic fashion. Summer has a storm which changes things rapidly. Autumn is inside a mountain—‘a thousand layers of mountain’—according to the vivacious composer, with mysteries here and there and deep sounds within. Winter has thunder storms which reverberate through the landscape.

Along with many individual solos (‘because all of these musicians are capable’) there is a fascinating and seamless blend of traditional Chinese sounds combining with or alternating with western musical textures or melodies. Melody becomes part of the texture throughout—one that pulses with life and energy. Concertmaster William Preucil and principal cellist Desmond Hoebig were amazing in separate solos that beautifully blended the two traditions.

The happy composer came onstage to share in the well-deserved long and loud ovation. This work should rightfully enter the standard repertoire with no hesitation.

The orchestra will return to Severance Hall for subscription concerts on November 17. To follow their upcoming tour or for other information, visit the web-site: http://www.ClevelandOrchestra.com.
From Cool Cleveland contributor Kelly Ferjutz artswriterATadelphia.net (:divend:)