Brooklyn Philharmonic Plays Mahler

A Friday night at BAM's opera house and Robert Spano, in his usual animated fashion, conducted the Brooklyn Philharmonic in a formidable performance of Mahler's Third Symphony. Spano has been music director of the orchestra since 1996. Over the years he has directed most of the major orchestras in North America. I have seen him pull off several impassioned, soul-ravaging performances this season with the Brooklyn Philharmonic, sometimes including a guest vocalist such as Sylvia McNair; this concert featured mezzo-soprano Michelle DeYoung singing contralto.

Mahler's Third was originally entitled, "The Gay Science (A Summer Morning's Dream)." The composer named each movement of this symphony (although he eventually discarded the names). The first movement's two parts were originally called "Pan Awakens" and "Summer Marches In." What sounds like a soft military wake-up call from the trumpets awakens Pan in his colorful persona of simplicity and chaos. We hear for the first time voices of the characters in nature, which later grow louder, deeper and more pervasive. Soon afterward, the main theme. Now summer is in full swing, unleashed, and the oboe, violin and French horn, flute, piccolo and trombone tumble and interweave in imitation and chorus.

The second movement is in a minuet form. Mahler once called this movement the most carefree piece he had ever written, yet it is difficult to play since many lines are exposed. At this performance musical personalities include oboist Melanie Feld, concert master Robin Bushman and flautist Katherine Fink, who reeks of virtuosity. We are swimming in sensual pleasure; the percussive pizzicato of the cello and bass enhances the loveliness of Mahler's melodies. This movement, originally called, "What the Flowers of the Field Tell Me," moves faster and faster until one asks, "Do the flowers talk this much, or is it the opium making my head spin?"

The third movement introduces at a moderate tempo a melody derived from the Wunderhorn song "Ablosung im Sommer," set against more percussive pizzicato pedal on the strings. Then the posthorn solo begins, seeming to come from behind the tiers of seating near the hall's entrance. The horn is mellow and distant as it plays broken chords that spin a meditative melody and then give way to a crescendo of full orchestra. We are thus prepared for the more dramatic and intense fourth movement.

Mahler's Third is the longest symphony in the standard orchestral repertoire, and there is only a short pause in its hour-and-forty-minute length. It is at this point that the alto soloist and women's and children's choruses mount the stage. They sing texts by Nietzsche (from Thus Spoke Zarathustra) and from a collection of German folk poetry (Des Knaben Wunderhorn?The Young Man's Miraculous Horn). It is paradoxical to see soloist Michelle DeYoung expressing with abundant resonance and depth her sad, drawn-out melody while still smiling at us. She combs the 2081-seat hall with a probing gaze that makes me want to hide. We feel the irony of joy in sorrow and accept this contradiction, not really needing Nietzsche's explanation.

Unlike most symphonies, Mahler's Third ends with a 25-minute adagio. This movement's forms flow in sequential waves moving toward resolution, but not with the urgency of Wagner's Tristan and Isolde or Barber's Adagio for Strings. Here the state of unresolved tension or unconsummated love doesn't build to climactic, ecstatic heartbreak; rather, we feel at ease, floating in the ocean current off Brighton Beach, feeling the motion of a magical song that soothes us, the rhythm of the sound waves rocking us in lullaby; no tears. As John Cage said, "More and more I have the feeling that we are getting nowhere?and that is a pleasure." Behind me, a little girl dressed in black leans on her father and sighs loudly.