MUSIC REVIEW : A Happy Return for Andre Previn

Illness prevented Andre Previn from conducting Schoenberg’s “Gurrelieder” with the Los Angeles Philharmonic--formerly his Philharmonic--six weeks ago. The embattled ex-music director did return to the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion on Thursday, however, to remind us what he can do with another, lighter, milestone of late Germanic romanticism: Mahler’s Fourth Symphony.

He can do a lot.

Previn has been accused of moving through such complex emotional challenges with cool dispatch. Conventional wisdom claimed that he always respected the letter of the law, but sometimes missed the spirit.

Conventional wisdom is fallible. There was nothing rigid, nothing inhibited or overly objective about his approach when he first led the Mahler symphony here a year ago. And there was much to cheer in the encore he offered on this occasion.

One might argue that the encore was a bit premature. This is the only Mahler that Previn has ever ventured here. It would have been interesting to hear what he thinks of the composer’s other challenges. Still, one must be grateful for any interpretation of the Fourth as authoritative, as richly detailed and as poignant as this.

It is, for the most part, a leisurely interpretation. If Mahler asks for a deliberate-- Bedachtig --tempo, Previn makes it very deliberate indeed. Nevertheless, the conductor does not shrink from a really bold ritenuto when he wants to shift expressive gears, and he dares enforce a bracing accelerando for flights of exhilaration.

Within his flexible scheme of motion, he again stressed the quirky lyricism of the first movement and underscored the piquant accents--accents bordering on grotesquerie--of the second. He sustained ethereal calm in the dangerously extended adagio without succumbing to Technicolored kitsch.

Problems beckoned only in the folksy reverie of the last movement. Here he tended to favor dynamic generosity at the expense of introspection. The orchestral fabric threatened to blanket the fragile soprano line, and the ethereal benediction remained stubbornly earthbound. One assumes--hopes--the wonted pianissimo will come into focus with repetitions.

The soloist was Sylvia McNair. Most sopranos warm up their larynxes and make a discreet last-minute entrance after the second movement. She sat bravely from the start, waiting nearly 50 minutes for her first cue and then singing the arching “Wunderhorn” verses with uncanny freshness, sweetness and angelic purity.

The first half of the program was devoted to Beethoven’s Second Piano Concerto, with Peter Serkin as soloist. It began rather perfunctorily. Notes seemed more important than phrases, phrases more important than ideas.

The prose began to resemble poetry in a particularly fluent, understated adagio, however, and, despite an initial scramble, the super-speedy finale ended in an exciting flourish. Serkin’s artistry is always most appealing when he takes risks.

The Philharmonic played both Beethoven and Mahler with stylish fervor. This made one eager to pardon recurring lapses in articulation and intonation.