Gustav Mahler (1860-1911)
Symphony No. 9 in D major (1908-9)
Ludwig van Bethoven (1770-1827)
Grosse Fuge, Op. 133 (1825 – orch. Weingartner 1933)
The Symphonica of London/Wyn Morris
rec. 1978, London – location unspecified
IMP Classics DPCD 1025 [2CDs: 113]

Impressed by the beauty, conviction and sincerity of Wyn Morris’ recordings of Mahler’s Fifth, Eighth and Tenth symphonies, I felt moved to hear his Ninth – but I must issue a word of warning: although there seem to be plenty of affordable CDs of the Fifth on sites such as eBay, tracking down his other Mahler recordings in that format is currently somewhere between hard, unaffordable and impossible. The First, (the 1893 Version, including an excellent ‘Blumine’) was first released on vinyl by Pye, then on CD by EMI back in 1991, the Eighth and this Ninth under review were issued on CD by  IMP in 1992, the Fourth was issued on CD even earlier on the Collins label in 1989; the Second has never even migrated from LP and he did not record the Third, Sixth or Seventh. However, if, like me, you enjoy the individuality of his interpretative stances and also derive some minor thrill from trying to find copies of those rare recordings, then I recommend that you keep looking. (You can also find copies of his Des Knaben Wunderhorn with Janet Baker and Geraint Evans on IMP, and Das klagende Lied on IMP and Nimbus.)

Those various recordings of Mahler’s symphonies made in the 70s almost invariably exhibit slow tempi in some movements but there is nothing exceptionally leisurely about the 92 minutes here for the Ninth; versions by Levine, Sinopoli, Tennstedt and Chailly, for example, are of similar or longer duration; nor does this recording come over as in the least lethargic. The sound is really good for its vintage and the playing of the Symphonica (assembled from the big London orchestras) tighter than in Morris’ other Mahler recordings with them from earlier in the decade.

It does not take long for Morris to advertise his commitment to overt emotional expression with the first climax two and a half minutes into the first movement. Too much too soon? Well; of course, I love Mahler’s symphonies but the Ninth is gruelling – beautiful but bleak; just the first movement is longer than many a symphony and it contains many peaks of elation and troughs of despair. I need to be kept engaged over an hour and half of concentration, so I welcome the stimulation. Morris’ care for dynamics is a feature of his conducting, so he ensures contrasts between those mood swings; he also has at his disposal an orchestra which can make one heck of a noise, as we may hear at the second climax at 6:50 before the ominous drum and brass passage heralding another bout of Angst. Once again, the brass is especially resonant and I don’t think I have ever heard the long, tumultuous section from 19 minutes onwards to the end played so passionately – and the conclusion is so poignant. You might not necessarily like what Morris does but he undeniably knows what he wants to do and executes it flawlessly. I love it.

I always enjoy the contrast between the desolation of the first movement and the grim determination to have fun depicted by the second Ländler movement; Morris gets the mood right: simultaneously exuberant and menacing. My attention never flags when he is conducting. The Rondo-Burleske third movement is similarly focused and propulsive. The pace isn’t especially brisk – in fact it is one of the slowest – but the intensity and grip of the playing and conducting keep it compelling. The ending is wonderfully released and chaotic with terrific percussion.

I always feel that the start of the finale takes us into another higher plane: the sumptuous melody, the suspended harmonies, the pervasive sense of yearning, the sighing strings – they are all comprehensively managed under Morris’ direction. Except for occasional coloration, the comparative absence of brass and woodwind puts the focus upon the sonority of the string sections and they carry the burden magnificently. The conclusion is utterly otherworldly and timeless, beckoning eternity then fading into nothingness with the most delicate of diminuendi.

In truth, I am nonplussed by those who finds Morris’ approach too expressive. That kind of very English revulsion for overt sentiment is neatly characterised by George Eliot in Middlemarch when describing Casaubon’s emotional stiltedness: ““A stream of affection? What a shallow rill it was; how soon it would dry up!…He was capable of no deep emotional current…His nature was of that dried parchment sort which seems to have had all the sap pressed out of it; and even his tenderness had the quality of a restrained and meagre allowance.” The very English Casaubon’s nature is the very antithesis of Mahler’s hypersensitivity and, I believe, of the conductorial sensibility required to bring his music to life. But that’s just me…

The bonus is the orchestrated version for strings of Beethoven’s Grosse Fuge. It is very grand and imposing but in no way marmoreal; Morris is at first steady but soon pushes ahead with music which never fails to amaze, startle and even puzzle. It is certainly much more Romanticised than, for example, Sándor Végh’s tauter, shorter, more classical account but that is hardly surprising given Morris’ predilection for a more demonstrative affect.

Ralph Moore

Availability
Not available new; published as part of Ralph’s ongoing Mahler review series.