Mahler Monday: LA Phil's Mahler Project, Mahler 1

I don't usually hop on a plane or drive many hundreds of miles to hear Mahler's First Symphony. My reason for that is that I have played it myself about five or six times, and also that there always seems to be an orchestra nearby playing it; I often figure I'll catch a performance of it at some point, close to home. This weekend however, was different. I hopped on a plane to Los Angeles to hear the LA Philharmonic under the direction of Gustavo Dudamel, play that glorious work, and also the Adagio from his Tenth Symphony.

I was torn about what performance to see in LA, as they are doing an entire cycle of his symphonies, entitled the Mahler Project. Having so many Mahler symphonies to choose from! What a wonderful situation to be in! I have already heard the LA Phil perform his sixth and ninth symphonies, and I had the pleasure of hearing the fifth symphony under Maestro Dudamel in New York City a few years back. I eventually decided on seeing the performance of the first and Adagio from the tenth, and am so grateful I did.

 The words I have to describe the performance all seem like they'd be contradictory, yet there is no other way to describe the performance of the first symphony, in my eyes. It had such a sense of innocence, yet had an undercurrent of maturity and wisdom about it. It was pure, yet lush and passionate. At times it sounded whimsical, yet it never ceased being intense either. There was a constant emotion of joy throughout the performance, while simultaneously being serene and peaceful from the first high A to the exuberant D major chord at the end.

That Maestro Dudamel and his orchestra can bring out such seemingly clashing/opposite/contradictory feelings in a piece is truly stunning to me. Especially when you look at the Maestro's conducting! Don't take that the wrong way, as if I'm criticizing him---quite the opposite. It's simply stunning to see him move the baton in the tiniest way--so small you can barely see it--yet such deliciously overwhelming sounds and emotions come out of the orchestra. And then his grand gestures---forget it! You are simply taken aback by the sheer power of it all, and are left feeling slightly weak, and relishing every bit of it. Truly, out of all the Mahler symphonies I have heard (and as you know, I've heard a LOT), never have I been on such a wonderful rollercoaster of feelings and emotions. The performance satisfied every inch of my heart, and then some.

The more technical side of me was beyond satisfied as well. I wish I could adequately describe the rich, thick, and full sound of the string sections, particularly in the second movement. Oh how they dug into their strings! It was a sound that I wanted to sink my teeth in; it was a sound that was nearly tangible. The wind section was so solidified together, as if they were one person with many arms working in perfect accord. The horns gave me chills and made my hair stand on end at times. I could easily listen to a recording of just them playing their own parts for the Mahler and be quite satisfied. The timpanist(s) rocked my world as well. Don't ever think a percussionist just hits stuff with a stick or mallet. It is so much more than that, and that was beyond evident Saturday night. Think a timpanist can't play the opening part to the third movement of Mahler 1 with emotion? Think again. Do you think a crescendoing roll can't affect you? Think again. Every time his mallets hit the head, they oozed both precision and emotion. At some point after watching and listening to the percussion section, I had to pick my jaw up off the floor.

Based on the applause afterwards, I wasn't the only one picking up my jaw (and probably heart, as well). We, the audience, were of one accord. I didn't know anyone around me save my dear friend sitting to my left, but we were all of one mind, and made that apparent in our applause. What shocked me as I was clapping, and hootin' and hollerin', was the humility of  Dudamel. I've seen him conduct many times before, and this was no different, yet I was still shocked, and deeply moved by his humility. He didn't just stand on the podium, and nod his head and bow to everyone. No, he stepped down, and stood alongside his musicians. He was a part of the orchestra, and while some say this man has too much humility, I say this man has nothing but absolute, pure class. He acknowledged everyone in his orchestra. His conducting and interpretations of Mahler symphonies have always captured my heart, but it was captured again when he walked all the way over to the principal bassist to shake his hand. Most conductors just kind of nod their head in the direction of the basses, but he walked over there! Pure class. Absolute pure class. Every single conductor on earth has much to learn from Maestro Dudamel. I don't care that the major conductors currently are all much older than he is--his dedication to being one with his orchestra is inspiring, and something that conductors everywhere should take note of.

And after all that, there was still a second half of the program!

The Adagio from Symphony no. 10 is a tear jerker--plain and simple. Poor Mahler was suffering deeply, because of a wife who went back on the vows she made to her husband. After all the love that Gustav had for Alma, she still went and cheated on him, and I remained convinced that that contributed to his heart issues. How could it not---just listen to the movement! It's the sound of a heart in agony, plain and simple. And the LA Phil played it in such a way as well. You wouldn't think that agony could be so exquisite, but oh how it was! Tears welled up and fell from my eyes as if I were the one in love, and being cheated upon, and when the tears stopped, part of me wished for more to fall.

More almost fell at the end of the work, after the last note had sounded, when the hall was utterly silent for what seemed like close to minutes.  Dudamel ever so slowly brought his arms down, and close to his heart, and it was like everyone in the audience was holding their breath. There wasn't even a single cough at all, and it was the most intense silence I have ever witnessed and been a part of in my life. It made all the notes beforehand all that more valuable. Finally we all breathed and clapped, and the dear friend who came along with me and I were literally falling over ourselves in admiration and amazement over Dudamel and his orchestra. We were just flabbergasted, and nearly at a loss for words. When I walked out of the hall and overheard various conversations, you knew this was no ordinary Mahler concert. It was beyond extraordinary, and I am so grateful I got to hear it. It was truly unforgettable. I remember all the Mahler performances I've heard, but this one affected me on such a tremendously deep, personal level, as if it scarred me--in a wonderful, beautiful way, of course.

Thank you so much, Maestro Dudamel. Thank you so much, musicians of the LA Philharmonic. Thank you, thank you, thank you, for a performance that I will never, ever forget.