Zubin Mehta's Recorded Legacy in the City of the Angels

Founded as early as 1919, the Los Angeles Philharmonic has had a series of very distinguished music directors – Georg Lennart Schnéevoigt, Artur Rodzinski, Otto Klemperer, Alfred Wallenstein and Eduard van Beinum. Bruno Walter, a distinguished Los Angeles resident, had also conducted the orchestra regularly. 

 

Nevertheless, the orchestra never really established a profile as one of America’s major orchestras. At the time, the talk was always about the “Big 5” orchestras of New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Cleveland and Chicago. 

 

Then Zubin Mehta arrived in Los Angeles.

 

Originally invited as a last-minute substitute for guest conductors Fritz Reiner and Igor Markevitch, Mehta established an immediate rapport with the orchestra and a connection with the audience. The circumstances surrounding his appointment as music director is well known and does not need another retelling. Suffice it to say that in 1962, Mehta was appointed music director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic, a marriage that would last until 1978. 

 

On top of Mehta’s many innovations in the city, the most long-lasting legacy of Mehta’s tenure in Los Angeles has to be the many outstanding recordings he made with the orchestra with Decca records. Now Decca has reissued all these fine recordings in a generous 38-CD box – Zubin Mehta/Los Angeles Philharmonic – Complete Decca Recordings.

 

Having heard all the recordings in this sumptuous box, the first thing one could say is the absolutely beautiful recorded sound, capturing every nuance of the orchestra’s playing. The Decca team of engineers decided early on that the Dorothy Chandler pavilion, while being a fine hall for live performances, was completely unfit as a recording venue. After much scouting, they decided that seemingly unremarkable Royce Hall, on the campus of the University of California, Los Angeles, would suit their purpose more than adequately. I cannot say this more emphatically – the orchestra sounds spectacular in these recordings. 

 

The first recordings of Mehta and the Los Angeles Philharmonic appeared in 1967. It was the first time an American orchestra would be recording for a European recording company. This presented some problems for the orchestra management at the time, as the recording company would only pay the orchestral players according to European and not American (unionized) scale. The management had to look for financing for these recordings in order to make up the difference. 

 

Mehta made the wise decision not to push the orchestra to record until he felt it was ready, and that explains the lag time between his taken over the music directorship in 1962 and the first batch of recordings in 1967. By 1967, the Los Angeles Philharmonic had already become a very fine orchestra, as can be attested in these first recordings. By the time Mehta left, judging from recordings of the late 1970’s, the orchestra had become the world class orchestra it is today. 

 

Listening to these recordings, I was struck by the imaginative and musical conducting of both very familiar repertoire as well as more unknown works of the orchestral literature. There is also a palpable love and passion in the music making in every recording. What is more, I felt that every member of the orchestra was really putting his or her heart and soul into these performances. None of these recordings came off as “routine” studio sessions. 

 

There are some recordings that were and are welcomed additions to the catalogue. There are deeply committed performances of Liszt Symphonic Poems – Hunnenschlacht (S105), Orpheus (S98) and Mazeppa(S100), a convincing recording of Stravinsky’s 8 Instrumental Miniatures for 15 players, an absolutely gorgeous reading of Charles Ives Symphony No. 1, with some outstanding playing from the orchestra principals, a wonderful recording of the same composer’s relatively more popular Symphony No. 2 that stands up to the fine recordings by Bernstein and Tilson Thomas, exciting performances of William Kraft’s Concerto for Four Percussion Soloists and Orchestra and Contextures: Riots – Decade ’60, masterful and convincing readings of Schoenberg’s Chamber Symphony No. 1, Op. 9 and the thorny Orchestral Variations, Op. 31, thrilling performances of Edgard Varèse’s Arcana, Integrales and Ionisation, a performance of Carl Nielsen’s Symphony No. 4 (“The Inextinguishable”) that brings out the rugged beauty of the music, and a beautiful reading of John Williams Suites from the films, Star Wars and Close Encounter of the Third Kind that I find superior to the composer’s own recording. None of these works are, even today, hugely represented in the recording catalogue. 

 

Some of Mehta’s Los Angeles recordings have become acknowledged classics of the phonograph. I had not been a great fan of Saint-Saëns’ Organ Symphony, but Mehta’s recording of the work made a convert out of me. He minimizes the bombast of the music, and infused the work with not only a sense of grandeur, but a quiet dignity, bringing out the inner beauty of the music that performances sometimes lack. 

 

Listening to the orchestra’s 1967 recording of Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition, I was struck by how Mehta highlights the contrast between the dramatic sections like Gnomus with the more lighthearted ones like the Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks. In a movement like Gnomus or Bydlo, there is a weightiness of sound that bring out all the drama of the music. Mehta’s pacing and sense of timing in The Great Gate of Kiev is also impeccable; he holds the orchestra back from the explosion of sound until the very end of the work. 

 

Mehta’s recording of Gustav Holst’s The Planets suite, an iconic recording not only for music lovers but audiophiles as well, was certainly exciting and beautifully played. But what caught my ears was the lack of bombast (excitement, certainly) and a great beauty of sound throughout the performance. Again, in the final Neptune movement, Mehta draws us into the mystical and magical sound world created Holst created. The same observations apply to his recording of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade, Op. 35, and kudos to the London engineers for capturing the sound of the orchestra so vividly and beautifully. 

 

There are only two concerto recordings – a magisterial performance of Beethoven’s Emperor concerto with Alicia de Larrocha from 1979, apparently Mehta’s final recording with the orchestra, and an absolutely delightful disc titled Concertos in Contrast, featuring four principal players from the orchestra. Other than Haydn’s very familiar Trumpet Concerto in E-flat major, Hob. VIIe/1, the other works certain warrant outstanding performances such as these – Vivaldi’s Flute Concerto in A minor, RV445, Weber’s Concertino for Clarinet and Orchestra in E-flat, Op. 26, Wieniawski’s Polonaise No. 1 in D major, Op. 4 and his Scherzo-Tarantelle, Op. 16. Throughout his tenure in Los Angeles, Mehta had been responsible for hiring most of the musicians as the older players retired, probably the most long-lasting aspect of his legacy. These 1974 performances by the players from the orchestra certainly gives us a hint of the extremely high level of playing by the orchestra. 

 

A 1973 disc – Virtuoso Overtures – gives us, among other things, an absolutely gorgeous and darkly brooding performance of Weber’s Der Freischütz Overture, with perfect intonation and ensemble by the horns at the beginning, as well as an echt Viennese reading of Strauss’ Die Fledermaus Overture. Even the recording, Hits at the Hollywood Bowl, no doubt a project they did for the recording company, receives committed and beautiful performances. 

 

In one instance, we hear two recordings, from different time periods, of the same work – Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 4 in F minor (Op. 36). The earlier recording was one of the orchestra’s first discs for Decca, done in 1967. The second was part of a complete cycle of the composer’s symphonies – a great addition to the catalogue of Tchaikovsky recordings, unfortunately neglected by critics - taped in 1977. As much as the 1967 performance was a fine one, we hear in the 1977 recording what an absolutely great ensemble the Los Angeles Philharmonic had become.

 

The magnificent recordings of Bruckner’s 4^th and 8^th symphonies, Mahler’s 3^rd and 5^th symphonies, Strauss’ Sinfonia domestica (Op. 53), Eine Alpensinfonie (Op. 64), and the tone poems, show Mehta’s affinity for painting large canvases, an absolute grasp of the overriding structure of the works from first note to last. In a record of Mahler Lieder with the incredible Marilyn Horne, I was almost more captivated and fascinated by Mehta’s design of the orchestral writing than even Horne’s unbelievably rich voice. In these recordings especially, we can hear the successful results of Mehta’s efforts to elicit a central European sound from the orchestra. Even in the biggest climaxes and the most dramatic passages, there was never any coarseness in the sound.

 

Since Mehta’s departure from Southern California, the orchestra has had some highly distinguished music directors, from the dignified Giulini to one of today’s hottest conductor, Gustavo Dudamel, every one of them putting his individual stamp on the orchestra’s sound. The ensemble had moved from its fine home at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion to today’s architecturally stunning Walt Disney Concert Hall, where I had the good fortune to attend a concert by Mehta with the orchestra last year. Hearing the orchestra today, I feel that Mehta must be given major credit for creating the world class orchestra we have today. 

 

Zubin Mehta/Los Angeles Philharmonic – Complete Decca Recordings is a testament of the work of one of today’s most honest and dedicated musicians, working with musicians that were sympathetic to his music making, and well served by knowledgeable and musical recording engineers. It has been a richly rewarding musical experience listening to these fine performances once again.

 

 

 

Zubin Mehta and Mahler's "Resurrrection"

Conductor Zubin Mehta returned to “his” orchestra in Los Angeles for a series of concerts to begin the New Year. In the 1960’s and 1970’s, the names “Zubin Mehta and the Los Angeles Philharmonic” were synonymous, and it was this musical marriage that put the orchestra on the musical map, dispelling the idea of the “big five” American orchestras worthy of mention. Since then, the orchestra had had a number of fine music directors, and Mehta had also been at the helm of many orchestras and opera companies. Even so, there is something special when the conductor returns to make music with the orchestra of the city that he still considers one of his homes.

I was fortunate to have been in Los Angeles this past weekend, and was therefore in the orchestra’s beautiful home of the Walt Disney Concert Hall for Mehta’s stunning reading of Mahler’s Symphony No. 2 in C minor, more commonly known as “Resurrection”. The performing forces for this massive work also included soprano Chen Reiss, mezzo-soprano Mihoko Fujimura, as well as the Los Angeles Master Chorale (under the expert direction of Grant Gershon).

Mehta has always been a champion of this work, and his early recording of it with the Vienna Philharmonic is still in the catalogue, a remarkable achievement given the number of recordings available. Since then, his interpretation has matured, and Friday night’s performance positively glowed with a beautiful burnished quality in the sound of the orchestra. Indeed the hallmark of any performance by Zubin Mehta is the beauty of the sound he elicits from whichever orchestra he is leading.

I wasn’t quite prepared for the energy with which Mehta and the orchestra tore into the opening of the first movement. Mehta effectively observed Mahler’s accelerando marking for the C minor scale at m. 4, giving the music a real sense of direction and drive. The Los Angeles cellists and double bassists played with the requisite thickness and pesante quality the music calls for. The violins played the rising motif at rehearsal 3 with great warmth and tenderness, giving real contrast and a sudden shift of mood from the storminess of the opening. Mehta conjured up a truly awesome apocalyptic vision at the orchestra outburst at rehearsal 15 (schnell), and the brief passage of triplet figures at rehearsal 20 (Molto pesante) was played with an incredible sense of urgency. The descending scale that ends the movement (rehearsal 27), with its lengthened silence (Mahler indicated a ritenuto marking over the rests – before the two final C’s), left the audience truly breathless. 

In this opening movement, Mehta highlighted for me, perhaps for the first time, the startling "weirdness" inherent in Mahler's orchestral writing.

The Ländler that makes up the second movement betrayed Mehta’s Viennese upbringing, and the music overflowed with warmth and abundant emotion. The musicians certainly rose to Mahler’s indication of Sehr germächlich. Conductor and musicians played the music with an overwhelming sense of flow, making the music sound like it was drawn from a single breath from beginning to end. Even the dramatic outburst at rehearsal 6 (Energisch bewegt) could not dispel the overall mood. The quiet transition back to the Ländler at rehearsal 12 was simply magical, and the arrival of the beautiful legato theme by the violins had a real feeling of inevitability to it. Mehta’s timing of the ending of the movement was done to perfection. 

Mahler took us out of our brief reverie with two arresting notes by the timpani, launching us into the Scherzo. Mehta expertly guided the musicians through the many shifting moods of this movement, inviting rather than commanding the orchestra as they traverse the musical landscape. This movement, more than others, is a real showcase for the solo wind and brass players, and the virtuosi of the Los Angeles Philharmonic rose to Mahler’s challenge with aplomb and with flair.

Mezzo-soprano Mihoko Fujimura sang the otherworldly “Urlicht” with great depth of feeling, Mehta and the orchestra supported her with a beautiful cushion of sound. The feeling and mood conjured by Fujimura were matched by the orchestra’s horns and trumpets. Here, Mehta conjured up not just beauty but an incredible depth in the sound, giving the music a truly innigkeit quality.

I remember one critic writing of Mehta’s recording of Mahler’s 3^rd symphony, that he really had a special way with Mahler finales. This was evident in how conductor and orchestra played this vast movement with a sense of inevitability and of organic unity. The incredible opening of the movement was not merely dramatic, but awe-inspiring, as if the heavens were really opening. In the grosse Appell section, the music took on a very spacious quality, and Mehta and the orchestra painted a bleak sonic landscape. The brief flute solo was hauntingly played.

Is there any symphonic work that rouses our emotions like the finale of this work? Mehta gauged the many levels of sound carefully, and expertly built the music to its emotional peak. Unlike so many “star” conductors, he did not try to pack a punch and knock us out with maximum volume, but always kept the beauty of both the instrumental and vocal sounds. No matter how shattering the climaxes were – and there were many – there was always the feeling of something in reserve.  The result was a performance that did not seek to “impress”, but rather served as an invitation for everyone to share in communion with both the beauty of the music and the emotion it conveys. 

Friday’s night performance was one where all the elements came together. Perhaps because of Mehta’s preeminence, particular in Los Angeles, it felt that every single member of the orchestra and chorus wanted to give their all. I felt extremely privileged to have experienced this stupendous musical experience. Mr. Mehta seemed to have been much more physically robust than I have seen him in a long time. All we could wish for is many more years of good health, so that he could give us many more memorable performances like the one we witnessed. 

Patrick May

Mahler Ninth

It is difficult to believe that Mahler symphonies were, until the efforts of conductors like Mitropoulos and Bernstein in the 1950’s and 1960’s, thought to be tortuous and largely incomprehensible. Today, Mahler symphonies have become the calling cards of conductors. Even so, performances of the composer’s 9^th symphony are still special events in any orchestra’s calendar.

Gustavo Dudamel, the young and very talented music director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra, brought his “band” to Seattle’s Benaroya Hall for a single performance of this, the last completed symphony of Gustav Mahler. In the programme notes, writer Steven Lowe made the oft-repeated idea that Mahler’s final symphony was his farewell to the world, and that the composer was filled with thoughts of his impending death. I was taught by a musicologist not to read too much of any composer’s life into his music. In fact, according to Mahler biographer Henry-Louis de la Grange, the composer was in quite a positive frame of mind when he wrote the 9^th symphony. That said, the work is filled with a very elegiac quality, especially in the two outer movements, that made such associations tempting.

Ever since reading about this very special concert, I had been waiting for the day with much anticipation. I had so wanted to hear this great orchestra under a conductor of which so much has been written.

I must confess that I was slightly disappointed with the playing of the 1^st movement. To be sure, the orchestral playing in each section was of the very highest level, but somehow I thought Dudamel did not really penetrate the spiritual core of this movement, and the music, to me, sounded rather episodic, going from one climax to the next. Even the great climax at 15 measures after Rehearsal number 14, where Mahler marks Pesante (Höchste Kraft), seemed underplayed, and did not give the impression of the apocalyptic vision the composer (I think) had in mind. I did feel that things got much better toward the end of the movement. The French horn solo of Schon ganz langsam (52 measures after Rehearsal number 16) was played with great poignancy, and a palpable sense of regret and nostalgia.

The rest of the symphony left me with a completely different impression. In the second movement, Dudamel captured the weirdness of this corrupted Ländler in the different harmonization of the woodwind figures that first appear in measures 3 and 4. At measure 9, the second violins played with an earthiness and gutsiness in the sound that was striking. I was also captivated with the playing of the Los Angeles Philharmonic’s horn section, which figures so prominently in this work. The intonation was impeccable, and the sound was always beautiful even in the biggest climax.

Dudamel’s reading of the brutal Burleske movement was truly frightening and breathtaking. There was, in the performance, a sense of weight in the string sounds of the orchestra. Special kudos to Associate Principal viola Dale Hikawa Silverman, who truly shined in the many prominent solos in the movement, playing with great power and really capturing the unique character of the movement.

The young conductor led the orchestra in the final Adagio in playing that was truly magisterial, and with a sense of totality from first note to last that I missed in the first movement. In the first statement of chorale, the Los Angeles strings played with a sound like burnished gold. In that incredible descending scale figure of C-flat, B-double flat, A-flat and G-flat (Wieder zurückhaltend), the orchestra played with a frightening and unbearable intensity that the music calls for, making those brief four measures lasting seemingly an eternity before the chorale returns. At the end of the movement, Dudamel kept his hands in the air for more than a minute, hearing the intense silence, and respecting Mahler’s marking of ersterbend, before the storm of applause broke the spell of this incredible music. The performance was such that applause seemed like such a rude intrusion.

I felt privileged to have been a witness to this very special evening of music making.

Patrick May, November 6, 2016

50th Anniversary in Los Angeles

On January 15^th, 1961, a young conductor named Zubin Mehta arrived in Los Angeles to rehearse the Los Angeles Philharmonic in preparation for a series of concerts. Mr. Mehta was almost completely unknown to orchestra or audience in Los Angeles. He had just been appointed music director designate for the Montreal Symphony, but who in Los Angeles had ever heard of the Montreal Symphony in 1961? Mehta’s appearance with the orchestra was the result of a cancellation by Fritz Reiner, who was supposed to have conducted.

At both rehearsals and concerts, the chemistry between conductor and orchestra was apparent from the start. The day after an especially successful concert, the orchestra administration offered Mr. Mehta the post of “associate conductor”. There have been many versions of the events that transpired next, but what eventually happened was that Georg Solti, the orchestra’s music director designate, was offended that he was not consulted about Mr. Mehta’s appointment, and resigned before he even began his tenure with the orchestra. Suddenly left without a music director, and seeing Mehta’s incredible success with both orchestra and audience, they offered the job to him instead. For the next 16 seasons, Mr. Mehta elevated the Los Angeles Philharmonic to a world class orchestra, with successful concerts throughout the musical world and recordings that still remained cherished items among music lovers.

This past weekend, the Los Angeles Philharmonic celebrated the 50^th anniversary of the beginning of Mr. Mehta’s tenure as music director of the orchestra. The programme was a re-creation of the concert he conducted as music director – the Busoni version of Mozart’s Overture to Don Giovanni, which incorporates the use of trombones as well as music from the end of the opera, Hindemith’s Mathis der Mahler Symphony, and Dvorak’s Symphony No. 7.  It is a serious programme, certainly far from the “showy” pieces Mr. Mehta has been accused of favouring.

Mr. Mehta’s 16-year tenure with the orchestra was not all smooth sailing. Despite his chemistry with the orchestra and popularity with audience, he would, for years, receive scathing reviews from the Los Angeles Times and its chief critic, Martin Bernheimer, who seemed to have devoted much of his career to (unsuccessfully) destroying Mr. Mehta’s reputation. Indeed, in his younger days, Zubin Mehta did not seem to have much luck with the critics, the main complaints being the conductor’s apparent superficiality, a lack of discipline and “depth” in his interpretations. I remember one reviewer, praising the conductor’s recording of Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsodies, adding that, “Alas, he is good for nothing else.” Such a statement is not only an insult to Mr. Mehta’s talents, but also disparaging towards the music of Liszt.

I have had the good fortune to hear Mr. Mehta in person on several occasions. In those occasions, and in listening to the conductor’s many recordings, I find the complaints from the gentlemen of the press entirely unjustified.

Is Zubin Mehta a great conductor? Certainly.  Is he the “greatest”? I do not know, because I do not know what the word means. From listening to his music making, I can only say that Mr. Mehta is a hugely talented and extremely serious musician. Yes, he did conduct the by now famous “Three Tenors” concert, but then so did James Levine, whose reputation did not seem to have suffered from such an association.

In recent years, critics seem to have been kinder, at least fairer, to Mr. Mehta. Perhaps he will now receive what he has always deserved, to be judged by the merits of each performance, and not by the preconceived and malicious stereotypes.

Rather than relying on the words of the “distinguished” critics of the Times, maybe we could end by recalling the words of Arthur Rubinstein, who said, “Some of my most joyous and inspired performances have been in collaboration with Zubin Mehta.”

Endorsement indeed, coming from a pianist who had probably played with most of the greatest conductors of the 20^th century.