Falletta’s Farewell Is a Stirring ‘Resurrection’

After 11 years as music director of the Long Beach Symphony and this season as its music advisor, JoAnn Falletta said goodbye to the orchestra, and it to her, with Mahler’s Second Symphony Saturday night at the Terrace Theater.

Was the choice of symphony symbolic? It confronts its listener immediately with the heroic struggle of death, then looks back on life with a nostalgia that is shot through with startling interruptions of psychic suffering. After vanquishing human cares and confronting the terror of judgment, Mahler lifts his score to a glorious conclusion, with a magnificent “Hymn of Resurrection” played by a very large orchestra and sung by soprano and mezzo-soprano soloists and large chorus.

Perhaps Falletta sought, in the symphony known as the “Resurrection,” nothing more symbolic than a spectacular climax to what has been a productive dozen years for both conductor and orchestra. She leaves the ensemble in better shape than she found it--this season’s contest of five very strong conductors to succeed her indicates that the position has never been a more desirable one. The winner, up-and-coming Mexican conductor Enrique Arturo Diemecke, should continue to raise the orchestra’s profile. Meanwhile, Falletta has moved up in the ranks to the Buffalo Philharmonic.

Saturday’s performance said much about conductor and orchestra. There was exhilarating playing, and often that exhilaration was the demonstration of control. Falletta is a clear-headed, straightforward interpreter, but she likes to give a little push when she can. So when Mahler writes the direction “forward,” Falletta floors it.

That was not the only reason, of course, that the performance was so lithe and fast (she got through Mahler’s score in just under 75 minutes; ruminating interpretations tend to be closer to 90 minutes). But the little pouncing trick did indicate an impatient conductor was not about to give a hesitant soul on his way to heaven any slack. The third movement, a symphonic elaboration of a folksy song about St. Anthony preaching to the fishes, eventually bursts into a horrifying cry of despair, surely one of the loudest sounds a 19th century orchestra had ever made. Falletta, all business, punched it out thrillingly and got on with the symphony. There was simply no looking back for this conductor, who is clearly on the move.

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Still, the performance was not without affection. Wind playing had moments of wonderful expressivity, and the large brass section demonstrated confidence-building surety. The upper strings were also lovingly attentive. I wish I could say the same for the cellos and basses. But in my seat--upstairs, under the overhang and almost at the wall to the left of the lower strings--they were not properly heard. I wouldn’t be surprised if the bass-shy, treble-strong acoustical perspective accounted for my impression of lightness and even brashness in the interpretation. Others, seated elsewhere, may have heard something different.

The two vocal soloists were mezzo-soprano Anne-Lise Berntsen, who was tentative but otherwise rich and characterful, and lyric soprano Cecelia Berling. The Pacific Chorale gave the performance just the final punch it needed.

But effective as that ending was, resurrection at the Long Beach Symphony seemed a relative thing. As Falletta hands over the orchestra to Diemecke, she leaves a legacy. A dozen years ago the orchestra made a laudable statement in hiring a woman music director, and now does it again with a Latino.

But, in other ways, Diemecke has his work cut out for him. Next season’s brochure does not include his name, although the announcement was made several weeks ago; and the season itself features no music from Mexico or Latin America.

Diemecke also confronts a vulgar organization, one that invites audiences to their seats with cheap music played on bells in the lobby, lowers lights so that texts cannot be read, and does not alert listeners to turn off cell phones (one rang just as the chorus quietly sang, “Immortal life, Shall He who called thee, give thee”). It also indulges board presidents by giving them the spotlight in which to introduce the concerts (“it’s going to be a doozy”) and plug car companies. That Mahler, foe of triviality and commercialism, triumphed over all that says a lot for Falletta and the musicians.