MUSIC REVIEW : Mehta Returns for Mighty Mahler Second : He Shuns the Sentimental, Leading L.A. Philharmonic in an Urgent Performance

The musicians of the Los Angeles Philharmonic managed to make it to the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion on time Thursday night. So did an audience of 3,000.

But Zubin Mehta, our former music director who was returning after a six-year absence, managed to get stuck somewhere in traffic.

Finally conquering metropolitan adversity, he arrived 20 minutes after the concert should have begun. Luckily, he had programmed some Mahler. When it comes to this grandiose, late-romantic repertory, Mehta is--and always was--a conductor worth waiting for.

The mighty Second Symphony provides enough musical and emotional stimulation to fill an evening by itself. Some might say more than enough. Nevertheless, Mehta had opted for 15 minutes of modernistic throat clearing in the innocent form of George Crumb’s “A Haunted Landscape.”

Crumb’s 15-minute essay in percussive mood music, receiving its West Coast premiere, is primarily concerned with color and texture. Forget melody. The score ripples and gurgles, snorts and thumps, shimmers and shines, always with well-calculated purpose and amiable affect.

The strings may be under-employed, but the battery brigade is given a rewarding opportunity to explore the impact of quirky accents and subtle rhythmic stresses. Within a conservative harmonic frame and an economical expressive scale, Crumb has created an unpretentious and appealing sonic collage.

A bespectacled Mehta (he memorizes long Mahler, not short Crumb) conducted with obvious affection. The orchestra followed him alertly.

It was after the premature intermission, however, that everyone got down to really serious business: the gargantuan sprawl and orgiastic spirituality of Mahler’s “Resurrection.”

Mehta ripped into the first agitated notes of the Allegro maestoso even before the applause greeting his entrance could subside. He served notice that this would be an urgent, impetuous performance. Those who preferred their Mahler mellow, majestic and/or contemplative should look elsewhere.

His disdain for the sentimental gesture may have made the flow of the third movement seem a bit hectic. His reluctance to refine gentle detail may have slighted the smiling charm of the bucolic Andante.

In context, it didn’t matter. Mehta knows what he is doing. He sees the need for continuous tension, and sustains it for 80 short minutes. He knows where the ultimate climaxes lie, and plays them for maximum value. He savors vast dynamic extremes, and uses them for telling dramatic contrasts.

He remains a master of the sweeping statement. He controlled Mahler’s alternating calms, storms and otherworldly resolutions with unflagging energy and with total conviction. He also inspired virtuosic orchestral responses.

The Los Angeles Philharmonic played this music far better for Mehta, in fact, than the New York Philharmonic--Mehta’s regular orchestra--had played it last April for Leonard Bernstein. The inherent irony is intriguing.

Florence Quivar, who will undertake Brangane with Mehta in the Music Center “Tristan” next month, brought dark, vibrant mezzo-soprano tone and simple poignancy to the “Urlicht” solo. Dawn Upshaw, a bright young hope from the Met, sang the soprano solo in the finale with angelic purity.

The Los Angeles Master Chorale traced the benediction of the last movement splendidly, from resonant whisper to glorious roar. This, no doubt, was the ensemble’s finest moment since the ascent of John Currie.

Delirium followed the ultimate, exhausting, roof-rattling cadence. For once, the standing ovation seemed justified.