Klaus Tennstedt: The Complete Mahler Recordings [Box set]

These are well known and wonderful performances. I have little to add to reviews of other editions of these performances here at amazon.com, except to say that they are dripping with character and spontaneity and that the finale of Sym #3 is under 21 minutes long - just a bit too fast to maximize its effect.
This set is adequately rather than wonderfully recorded.

In addition to the studio EMI performances of Syms. #1-9, the Adagio to #10, and Das Lied, there are also the gut-wrenching performances of his Live syms. #6 and #7 issued on 3 EMI discs that went OOP a decade ago and now sell used for high prices (that should end soon with this release). There is also a Live #5.

You will want to know about masterings: For some reason, 2001 remastering of Syms. #1, 2, 3, 5, 9, and 10/adagio are included, but NOT the GROC remasterings of #4 & #8. Is EMI thoughtless or cheap? As far as I know, neither of the #6 or the #7s performances were ever remastered.
This is a great set and well priced; too bad about the old mastering on #4 & 8.
Enjoy.

To say that I have listened to every note of this 16 CD set before reviewing it would not be true, but I have certainly already spent many hours in its company and feel able to deliver at least a preliminary account of its many virtues and possible drawbacks.

Tennstedt's Mahler is of the old school; no "Mahler lite" here. The word which repeatedly came into my head while listening was "majestic". His tempi are indeed often slow but by no means necessarily the slowest in comparison with other successful versions and his sense of the music's architecture invariably means that he eschews any tendency to drag. The quality most associated with his interpretation is massiveness, a sense of great blocks of sound being manipulated into position to form a mighty edifice.

This studio cycle was recorded over a period of nine years from 1977 to 1986 and I would say right away that the sound is remarkably good. At first sight, EMI's decision to remaster only some symphonies is puzzling but in fact is quite straightforward: only those symphonies recorded in analogue between 1977 and 1981 have been deemed in need of remastering, which was done between 2000 and 2002 - with the exception of no. 2, which was recorded in very early digital in 1981 and thus presumably too glassy or in some way unsatisfactory owing to inexperience with the technology. Otherwise, the remaining nos. 4, 6, 7, 8 and "Das Lied von der Erde" and the three live recordings of no. 5, from 1988, no. 6, from 1991 and no. 7,from 1993, were all recorded in digital sound and EMI have presumably deemed it unnecessary to remaster them.

I appreciate that Tennstedt devotees will tell you that to hear him at his best it is necessary to go to live recordings such as his phenomenal 1989 recording with the same orchestra on their own label or performances on the BBC Legends label, but this set still represents an extraordinary conductor in some of his finest work playing his favourite composer. Furthermore, you still get the chance to make some interesting comparisons between studio and live performances as this latest issue includes three live performances of Symphonies 5, 6 and 7. I am not entirely convinced that these live recordings are always immeasurably superior to the studio versions; there, for example, is very little difference between the two accounts of no. 5, although on balance I actually preferred the studio version. While the Trauermarsch is weightily imposing in both, the playing of the second movement a little scrappier in the live account, intonation is occasionally suspect and the overall mood is too hectic for my taste. The Adagietto has a richer, more powerful, sobbing intensity in the studio but I do, however, love the way Tennstedt engineers its ending on a barely perceptible thread of sound in the live performance; both versions are superb. In general, the live performances are slower and have an intense, mesmeric quality not always evident in the occasionally less inspired studio versions of the Sixth and Seventh; at the same time it is possible to criticise Tennstedt's preference for drawn-out tempi as unnecessarily indulgent.

Tennstedt called the London Philharmonic Orchestra "the best orchestra for Mahler in the world" and when listening to certain passages, such as those featuring the flutes and oboes in the "Abschied" from "Das Lied", I can only concur; there is a great deal of wonderful solo artistry, especially from the woodwind and horns, and invariably a gorgeous sheen on the sound of the orchestra as a whole. The best performances here are, I think, the Third and the Eighth, but the set as a whole represents an extraordinary bargain and an indispensable survey of Tennstedt's special gifts in Mahler, suitable either for the seasoned collector or the novice wanting to be introduced to the glories of Mahler's symphonic world.

The surprise for me in this box set was "Das Lied von der Erde"; I had not previously heard it and rather assumed it to be inferior to the established classic versions, but this is not the case. Klaus König has been judged by some to be the weakness in the set but I find him to be in very good voice: heroic if slightly throaty of tone but with plenty of heft and ringing top notes. Any slight strain is hardly inappropriate in such demanding music. Agnes Baltsa's smoky, vibrant mezzo is not really inward and other-worldly enough in comparison to the poise of Janet Baker or Christa Ludwig who have more nobility of timbre than Baltsa's more earthy sound but her more overt melancholy works in the longest "Abschied" on record, she floats some beautiful top G's and her repeated "ewig" as she fades away is hypnotic. Tennstedt's phrase-shaping is immaculate; his ability to sustain the requisite tension is enormously helped by the lustrous playing of the LPO, whose shimmering strings allow him to bridge the long, drawn-out lines.

Given Tennstedt's penchant for grandeur, the opening of the First Symphony is a model of delicacy and restraint: over a gentle ppp the horns intone their motto suggestive of "faery lands forlorn", then the trumpet fanfare injects a note of urgency, the orchestra building to the most stirring climax possible. As throughout this cycle, the brass and horns are marvellous, often whooping with Straussian verve. The only disappointment here comes with the rather diffident manner the trumpets adopt for the passage at 10'38". Time and again one is struck by Tennstedt's sense of pace and timing, his artful use of rubato, his ability to recapture the momentum having once relaxed. With Tennstedt, one must always take the long view, but occasionally - and most damagingly, perhaps, in the Ninth - a lack of emphasis and punch such as Bernstein or Solti can bring to crucial moments is apparent in Tennstedt's "slow burn" demeanour.

The "Resurrection" is the longest of many a recording, making Klemperer look positively brusque, but Doris Soffel copes admirably with the etiolated tempi, sustaining a rich, steady line and Tennstedt justifies his choice of beat, securing terrifying energy and commitment form the London Philharmonic Choir and steering the work home to an ending of overwhelming opulence and majesty. A great recording, not perhaps, as all-embracing as his live LPO version but nonetheless a success within the context of the recorded cycle.

The Third, as I have already said, is one of the best of all and also in the best sound. I still think that Levine is the most satisfying of all in the way he combines brooding mystery with dark purpose but both he and Tennstedt capture the ironic, faux-naif deliberateness the opening movement demands. Movement by movement, I find that his rivals sometimes surpass Tennstedt: in the second, both Kubelik and Levine manage to bring more charm to the tripping bucolic dance and in the third alto Ortrun Wenkel is very ordinary alongside Horne and Podles, but then nor do Bernstein (Martha Lipton) or Kubelik (Marjorie Thomas) have the best singers and they are still front-runners in this symphony. Tennstedt is just a tad too voluptuous compared with Bernstein, Wit and Kubelik in the "Sehr langsam. Misterioso" fourth movement, his boy trebles leaning into the "Bim-bams" rather coyly - the direction is "keck", not winsome - but this performance is greater than the sum of its parts and I find it the most successful after the Eighth. Both Bernstein and Levine take considerably longer than Tennstedt over the sixth movement and have been accused of taking an overblown approach, and although it is difficult to see how it is possible to overdo the intensity of such music, Tennstedt's somewhat more restrained and refined interpretation also eschews to some degree the unwelcome sentimental association of the melody with "I'll be seeing you again" uneasily melded with strains of "Also sprach Zarathustra".

The Fourth Symphony here is a gloriously open, lyrical, warm-hearted performance. Tennstedt's tempi can be daringly extreme but they work; this is a tender, poised account which succeeds in transporting us heavenward. Soprano soloist Lucia Popp is perfect; her honest, direct singing is all Viennese charm without a hint of Schmaltz.

I have already indicated that the Fifth is a great success. It created a stir on its appearance and remains a tour de force both of orchestral playing and interpretative cohesiveness; the central Scherzo, in particular, is striking in the virtuosity of the LPO horns and brass and the passion of Tennstedt's direction. The Sixth is a dense, doom-laden trudge, the slowest recording of all, yet Tennstedt's wonderful control of dynamics and sense of overall shape weaves a magical spell, preferable to Yoel Levi's almost panic-stricken haste, Szell's steely, frenetic urgency or Levine's crisp, clipped drive. It is in fact closest in mood to Bernstein's weighty grandeur and those two remain my two favourite versions. The live recording is even slower, but still hangs together. Similarly, both performances of the Seventh look leisurely on paper but are immensely compelling.

In the monumental Eighth, Tennstedt inspires his forces - somewhat smaller than normal but certainly not lacking in power or gravitas - to produce one of the finest recordings of this great but unwieldy and uneven work.

I have read criticisms elsewhere of some supposed inadequacy in the soloists and a slackening of tension in Part 2. I certainly hear nothing of the kind: the singers are wonderful, especially Edith Wiens as Una Poenitentium, and the climax to the whole piece is breath-takingly majestic. The sound is very fine and the reduction in choir members is all to the good as it allows Tennstedt to achieve greater clarity but without loss of weight. His tempi are finally judged, if occasionally idiosyncratic - but he does everything for good reason and clearly has a broad, over-arching vision of how the music should go, such that he manages to bridge some of the bare patches and potential longueurs when Mahler's inspiration flags somewhat. I found both the London Philharmonic Choir and the Tiffin School Boys to be thrilling, with intonation secure even in the upper reaches of the voices.

I agree with previous commentators that the Ninth is perhaps the least successful symphony here. It is a big, grand, gloomy account which lacks Bernstein's élan and often simply goes slack. Rhythms lose the pulse and despite some glorious playing and impressive moments, the conception is too diffuse and the momentum stalls.

The Adagio from the Tenth brings compensation for that disappointment; the sound is superb and Tennstedt has recovered the spontaneity missing in the Ninth; the intensity of the psychomachia depicted here is riveting, such that one gives nary a thought to the exceptionally long duration of the movement that Tennstedt demands.

This super-bargain box set is a wonderful testament to the devotion to Mahler of a conductor who came late to the composer but brought to his music the mature fruits of his own mental and bodily suffering. It is not flawless but evinces an integrity and honesty of response, in harmony with a technical proficiency, which secure Tennstedt's place amongst the greatest interpreters of Mahler.

I've been familiar with Mahler's symphonies for 40 years, and have probably listened to hundreds of recorded performances, and if the term `the only set of Mahler symphonies you'll ever need' could reasonably apply to just one set, then in my opinion it would be this one. I owned the earlier set of Klaus Tennstedt's Mahler symphonies cycle, but decided to acquire this new, expanded set on finding it included live accounts of 5, 6 and 7; recordings of which were often available on the used market at silly prices. After listening again, I'm now even more convinced that this is the definitive Mahler symphonies integral set, especially with the extra live recordings. True, in some works Tennstedt can be equalled and sometimes bettered by individual issues by other conductors, (or by Tennstedt himself in several live recordings on the London Philharmonic's own label and BBC Legends) but for a complete set I think this beats the rest. Bernstein's first cycle on CBS/Sony is the closest contender, but the EMI set generally has better sound. For me there are just two conductors who could bring virtually all of Mahler's symphonic work fully to life and they've already been mentioned. Strange, isn't it, that both died at no great age from the effects of cigarette smoking (both 60+ a day men).

Tennstedt's first recording of Mahler 1, although lauded on its original appearance in the late 1970s, is a little smoothed out and lacking in character, and is probably the least successful instalment here. I think that this is something that the conductor himself acknowledged, and he wanted to re-record it in the studio, something he didn't get the chance to do. Try his live recording of No 1 on BBC Legends for an `echt-Tennstedt', much more feral performance of this work, in spite of the iffy sound (the recording was derived from a private, off-air taping), and a few negative reviews.

Despite many opinions to the contrary, I find the differences between Tennstedt `live' and `studio' often to be overstated, and although No 2 is very different `live' (LPO label), the studio version doesn't want for intensity, and is one of the best on disc; the closing pages are truly stunning. Comparing this to Rattle's spectacularly overrated earlier `Resurrection' (still `Gramophone's top recommendation, I see) leaves me totally perplexed.

No 3, is excellent and for me it is the only Mahler 3 `DDD' recording worth having. Tennstedt doesn't impart quite the same dynamic qualities in No 3's first movement as does Bernstein (CBS/Sony), Kubelik (Audite) or Haitink (Philips `Originals'), but he doesn't fall too far short and the recording is better. Also, Tennstedt is a shade too quick in the final movement, taking just over 20 minutes. Better this though than, say, James Levine's tediously lugubrious 27 minutes (sounding like maidens drowning in Golden Syrup). Having just listened to the recently-released live No 3 (ICA Classics), I found a slightly better overall performance - the last movement's timing now increased to 22 minutes plus, with the earlier movements more tightly held together - all compromised somewhat by sound lacking in high frequencies, with detail blunted as a result.

No 4 is given a straightforward unaffected performance that whilst very good doesn't have the same old-world, fairytale feel that Horenstein (CfP), Kletzki (EMI) or Kubelik (DG) give to this very personal (to Mahler) symphony. That said, Tennstedt's soprano soloist (Lucia Popp) is better than the alternatives mentioned, with the exception of Emmy Loose (with Kletzki) who imparts a special innocent, wide-eyed quality.

I think the 5th can take a number of different interpretations and be `right'; it's that kind of work, and I'm not convinced that the live 5th is so much better than his studio version. However, in either case Tennstedt turns in an excellent performance; the angst isn't done to death and the transition from darkness/despair to light/joy is well judged. If there's a problem, it's the Adagietto, which Tennstedt takes too slowly (around 12 minutes, in both recordings). Again this is entirely subjective and others might be aghast at my preference for Rudolf Schwarz's 7' 31" in his 1958 stereo recording with the LSO (Everest). I wonder why Mahler called it `adagietto' (= slightly faster than adagio) and then contradicted this with the German instruction `sehr langsam' (`very slowly', which is adagissimo, or maybe largo) - any offers? I very much like Tennstedt's way with the third movement - an imaginary, phantasmagorical journey through a rough landscape, as I see it.

The 6th is magnificent in both cases, though I actually prefer the studio version in the first movement, where Tennstedt's he
avy trudge at the start suggests that Death himself is treading on Mahler's heels. However, from then on I find I prefer the live version. These, together with the other live recording (LPO label), I think are the very best interpretations of No 6, and especially memorable in each case is the Andante, where Tennstedt gives a sense of unease and disquiet to Mahler's `escape' into the Austrian Alps, perhaps suggesting that although one can get away from a troubling world by entering Nature's realm, it's never possible to get away from oneself.

I never much liked the 7th until I heard Tennstedt's studio recording, where the fragmentary themes are stitched together into a comprehensive whole. The quasi-military themes, the crepuscular interjections, the crazy references to the `Merry Widow' and snatches of Mahler's earlier music; all are presented in a coherent way. The live 7th however, racks up the strange and sinister flavours of this symphony by several notches. It's a slower yet `edgier' performance with greater contrasts between storm/stress and calm/repose, and I doubt that any other recording can rival it - not even Tennstedt's other live performance on BBC Legends.

The 8th is very good, even compared to the live version (LPO) where the scale is shrunk due to the reduced forces used and the shortcomings of the performance venue (Royal Festival Hall). The studio recording unfortunately goes opaque and two-dimensional at the very end when the engineer or producer seems to have decided that the off-stage orchestra and the organ should all but obscure everything else. The 8th doesn't show Mahler at his inspirational best and it needs a bravura performance to keep it interesting, and overall I've yet to hear a better rendition of the mighty 8th than Solti's, despite his excesses (or perhaps Bernstein's 1966 recording - in the main better than Solti in performance, but less well recorded).

This set includes the only recording, as far as I know, that Tennstedt made of the Ninth. It's a tough, sinewy and trenchant performance that rivals the best, (though not up to the standard of Bernstein). It's also somewhat let down by quite shrill and brittle sound, especially in loud passages during the first movement.
It's a hell of a shame that Tennstedt never recorded the whole of the Tenth because the Adagio from that work (the only movement that the composer fully completed before his untimely death) is magnificently done here; the emotions felt at having very soon to say farewell to the world, being heroically conveyed.

The set also includes a performance of Das Lied von der Erde. However, this is one of Mahler's works that I simply can't get into, so I won't comment. `Das Lied' is the biggest weapon in the armoury of Mahler's detractors, when they say his works are depressing and morbid. Personally I think it's their only weapon when the balance of emotion in the vast panorama of Mahler's symphonic work, though running the whole range of human feeling, falls most often in the direction of optimism.
Recording quality is generally very good and even outstanding, except, as mentioned before, in the Ninth, and I suspect that some remastering has been done in places. I no longer have the original set for comparison, but I noticed that a problem at the opening of the Third on the `old' set - the soundstage balance suddenly moving from right to left, about 15 seconds in, - has now been corrected. The LPO are wholly within the Mahler idiom, and while they don't display the plush, easy virtuosity of say the Vienna or Berlin Phils, their dark, grainy-earthy style generally suits the composer better than their state-cosseted European rivals.
For me, this set, augmented with Tennstedt's No 1 (BBC Legends), Horenstein's No 4 (CfP) and Bernstein's No 9 (CBS/Sony), would be enough for that `desert island marooning'.

In conclusion, just to put into perspective the incredible value on offer here, I recall buying Haitink's Mahler 8, on two LPs, in 1972 (my first experience of the composer; I bought it on a hunch, never before having even heard the name Gustav Mahler); it cost £4.50 - an average day's pay back then. Here, you get 22 LPs worth for roughly 2 hours pay. What are you waiting for?