TAKING THE MEASURE OF MAHLER

During his tenure as music director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic, Carlo Maria Giulini led some notable, if flawed, performances of Mahler’s “Das Lied von der Erde.” The flaws were invariably vocal. The inevitable Giulini recording would set matters right. Right?

Wrong. The recording (Deutsche Grammophon 413 459-1) has arrived, and the problems not only persist but are exacerbated.

Giulini remains an interpretive paragon. His “Lied” is passionately intense. It is also a broad, achingly lyrical view of the Mahlerian swan song that never fails to achieve the proper emotional and instrumental balance.

The Berlin Philharmonic plays its immense heart out for Giulini, and that heart is supported by an awesome degree of technical accomplishment.

But, ultimately, there are the soloists: tenor Francisco Araiza, a keen intelligence wedded to a sadly, apparently undersized voice for his assignment and, in the even more important contralto solos, Brigitte Fassbaender (a mezzo-soprano), thin-toned, tremulous and intonationally insecure.

Neither singer is nearly comfortable enough with the notes to do anything with the vast emotional requirements of the score.

Maureen Forrester and Richard Lewis were far better cast in 1960 when they recorded “Das Lied von der Erde” with Fritz Reiner and the Chicago Symphony.

The musical mechanics of this performance were--are--in excellent working order. Lewis’ tenor has the appropriate weight and thrust despite a somewhat tentative grasp of the German text, and Forrester’s dusky contralto and splendid enunciation made her a worthy successor in the part to Kathleen Ferrier.

Reiner’s conducting is propulsive and immaculately balanced, if rhythmically unyielding, with the Chicago Symphony then as now a splendidly responsive virtuoso ensemble.

The sonics of the most recent reissue (RCA AGL1-5248) are, however, shallow and bass-shy when compared to the just-released compact disc version of an even older--and more celebrated--interpretation: the 1952 “Lied von der Erde” by the Vienna Philharmonic under Bruno Walter’s direction (London 414 194-2).

The only thing that was ever missing from that incomparable performance was a proper sonic ambiance. None of its numerous reissues have--until now--been able to ameliorate the high-end distortions in the vocal portions and the “shattering” in the brassy orchestral climaxes.

Withal, sonic shortcomings could not obscure the grandeur of Walter’s interpretation or the magnificent singing of contralto Kathleen Ferrier, who could reduce the most flinty-hearted listener to tears with her ineffable intoning of the work’s concluding “Abschied,” the last music she was ever to record before her tragic, premature death.

Hardly less affecting was the work of tenor Julius Patzak, whose seemingly small, constricted tenor took on surprising luster as it ascended the scale and positively blossomed when pitted against the roaring orchestra.

The performance as a whole has never sounded better than in London’s spacious and clear compact-disc format, a sonic refurbishing that allows us to hear more of this deservedly venerated performance than was previously possible--or imaginable.

The Lorin Maazel-Vienna Philharmonic recorded Mahler symphony cycle, which began a year ago with slapdash performances of the Fifth and Sixth, gathers strength with distinguished versions of the polar opposites in the canon, the hyper-dramatic Second Symphony, the “Resurrection” (CBS 12M 38667), and the infinitely subtle Fourth (CBS IM 39072).

Whipping up the climaxes of the Second is a cinch. It takes intelligence and skill to illuminate the work’s many felicities of scoring and melody and to keep it moving with a semblance of unity. Maazel succeeds admirably on all these counts, while whipping up a fine fury as well in the wonderfully blowzy opening movement and imposing order on the wildly heterogenous finale.

In all this he has the considerable assistance of the Vienna Philharmonic, in finest current form, and of Jessye Norman, who brings immense dignity and lushness of tone to the mezzo-soprano demands of the “Urlicht” movement.

Maazel’s pacing of the Fourth Symphony is, throughout, leisurely--slow, one might call it if the rhythmic structure weren’t so firmly maintained. The soprano soloist is Kathleen Battle who, with her silvery tones and unaffected projection of text, is the ideal guide to the child’s vision of heaven portrayed in the finale.

A gently eloquent reading that should prove highly durable.

Mahler’s sole extant work of chamber music--a 12-minute-long slow movement for piano, violin, viola and cello--dates from 1876, when he was a 16-year-old student at the Vienna Conservatory.

There is no hint of the heaven-storming, breast-beating, martial, grotesque, folkloristic Mahlermusic to come. Rather, it is a disarmingly attractive bit of youthful pathos, with a strong affinity for Schumann at his darkest and most despairing.

It is given a dedicated, technically proficient reading here by a French ensemble directed by pianist Christian Ivaldi (Erato NUM 75146).

The coupling is Richard Strauss’ equally youthful, but exasperatingly attenuated and unruly Piano Quartet in C minor.