In 2009, Lorin Maazel concluded his tenure at the New York Philharmonic by conducting a big Mahler symphony. (“What are the small ones?” you may ask.) He conducted No. 8, the “Symphony of a Thousand.” Jaap van Zweden has just concluded his own tenure at the Philharmonic by conducting a big Mahler symphony: No. 2, the “Resurrection.”
After the performance, I asked friends—playfully but seriously—“Is that the greatest piece ever written or merely one of them?”
In his conducting of the work on Friday night, Van Zweden showed what is valuable about him: his high musical standards; his musical integrity; his eschewal of baloney; his combination of head and heart; his service to the composer—the composer of the music at hand. Van Zweden comes from a tradition of Szell, Reiner, et al. This kind of conductor is not necessarily popular today. What a pity.
Mahler’s Symphony No. 2 begins with an attack—an intense, sudden, shocking attack. Van Zweden and his forces executed it in exemplary fashion. In much of the first movement, Van Zweden conducted with a coiled intensity. Mahler stops to smell the flowers, however—and Van Zweden did this along with him.
In the past, I have accused Van Zweden of bulling through certain works—Bruckner in particular. But I would rather have his bulling than wallowing or dawdling. In any event, Van Zweden did not bull in the Mahler symphony. I must say, I didn’t really hear interpretation or a conductor’s personality. I heard Mahler’s symphony.
The English horn, Ryan Roberts, sang beautifully. Other principals shone in the symphony as well. Katy Woolley, the French horn, played like an angel. If she keeps this up, she will be kicked out of the Horn Guild. Christopher Martin, the trumpet, made his contribution too.
Mahler’s first movement ends with pizzicatos—which, on Friday night, were perfectly together. This is not to be taken for granted. My impression is, not many people care. Jaap van Zweden does, however.
“He’s a disciplinarian,” people say. Well, he’s a musician, is what he is.
Mahler’s second movement was appropriately graceful and dance-like. Again, the closing pizzicatos were right on target. The third movement had its semi-screwball nature. You should not play this music too soberly. Was it a little fast? Maybe—but maybe not. One of Mahler’s most insistent directions is “Nicht schleppen,” “Nicht schleppend.” “Don’t drag,” “Not dragging.” Mahler, as composer and conductor, did not mistake slow for profound, and neither does Van Zweden.
What’s more, he conducted this symphony with great definition—high definition, if you like. He did not allow any Mahlerian mush.
I will give you a little detail about the third movement—something offbeat. I like the clarinets more Jewish. More klezmer-like. The tempo was maybe a little brisk for that. But no harm was done.
Our mezzo-soprano for the evening was a Russian, Ekaterina Gubanova. Back in the 2007–08 season, I reviewed her in recital. “She proved herself a potent young singer to watch,” I said. She is indeed formidable.
When she began on Friday night, she was a little “low,” a little flat. But she soon righted herself. She sang earnestly. She sounded Slavic. Is that a sin? Certainly not—even in a work with a German text. If any music is universal, Mahler’s Symphony No. 2 is.
Our soprano was a German, Hanna-Elisabeth Müller, an excellent singer. In the 2016–17 season, she was outstanding as Donna Anna at the Metropolitan Opera. (As you know, this is a role in Mozart’s Don Giovanni.) On Friday night, she fought the flats—but she sang with intelligence.
Ordinarily, the vocal soloists in Mahler 2 sit front and center, and spend a lot of time staring into the auditorium, as though trying not to call attention to themselves. This is awkward, for singers and audience alike, I think. On Friday night, the singers were in the left-center of the orchestra (as viewed from the audience). This was a smart solution—smart choreography—I thought.
The New York Philharmonic Chorus was unusual, in this respect: its basses growled. I don’t recall ever having heard that in the Mahler. That low growling was effective.
“Dullness,” said Liszt, “is the cardinal sin of performance.” Not for a second—one second—was this symphony dull. To repeat an expression I used above: this is not to be taken for granted. Night after night, I sit through dull performances, competent as they may be. Jaap van Zweden does not give you dull. (It is the “cardinal sin.”)
So, now he leaves, having begun his tenure in 2018. The general attitude in New York seems to be: “good riddance.” Van Zweden always had a terrible press. He is not an ingratiator. Frankly, I don’t believe I have ever heard the sound of his voice. His predecessor at the New York Philharmonic talked most nights, or many a night.
Van Zweden probably thinks that being a good or great conductor is good enough—all a music director should be. His attitude is “Prima la musica”—“First the music.” And second, and third. This is very unmodern.
I’ve always said that it was a miracle that he was hired by the Philharmonic in the first place. He offered nothing politically sexy. On the “intersectionality” scale, he probably rates a zero. He just—conducts. He has devoted his life to music.
During his tenure, he checked some of the boxes that many like, it seems to me. He conducted plenty of new pieces, including those geared to “social justice.” One remarkable night, he accompanied a drag cabaret. He stood there dutifully, as the performers cracked dick jokes. He beat his arms to “Walk Like an Egyptian.” Is that cool enough for you?
I thought it was degrading. Beneath Van Zweden’s dignity.
By the way, I like “Walk Like an Egyptian”—from the Bangles (1986). (My era, baby!) But on this night, from the New York Philharmonic, it was vomitous.
After a two-season interregnum, Van Zweden will be succeeded by Gustavo Dudamel—who should be more to New York’s liking. He enjoys a great press. He has political cachet, chavista chic. If I start in on this, I will be writing an extended essay . . .
Jaap van Zweden’s has been a short tenure—five seasons, including a pandemic. No one is for everyone. We should all be in a place where we are appreciated. I’m glad, to be honest, we had this conductor for as long as we did.