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Warren-Green Expands Charlotte Symphony's "Titan" Concert to Rousing Effect

When Charlotte Symphony Orchestra's season announcements and brochures were issued last July, Mahler's Symphony No. 1, "The Titan," stood alone on the program for their concert coinciding with semifinals of the ACC basketball tournament at nearby Spectrum Center. Whether there were second thoughts on the length of that program or worries about automobile traffic inconveniencing concertgoers, two additional works and an intermission were added to the evening. Mahler's Symphonic Movement: "Blumine" seemed a natural add-on, since it was part of an earlier draft of the symphony, which premiered in 1889 as a five-movement piece titled Symphonic Poem in Two Parts. Adding a piece by Strauss wouldn't appear much less apt if it were Richard Strauss, not quite four years younger than Mahler and very much his contemporary. But Johann Strauss, Jr., the renowned "Waltz King?" Picking up a microphone as soon as he appeared onstage at Belk Theater, music director Christopher Warren-Green immediately cleared things up. Far from a grotesque contrast, parts of Strauss II's Emperor Waltzes are actually echoed in the second movement of "The Titan." And since "Blumine" was the second movement in the original Symphonic Poem before Mahler excised it, the whole grouping had an elegant logic to it.

None of the recordings of "The Titan" that I looked up reach the length of a full hour except for that of Seiji Ozawa with the Boston Symphony, who just ekes past the 60-minute mark after restoring "Blumine" as his second movement. So, while I heartily endorse Warren-Green's decision to fortify and vary the originally-announced program with judiciously selected appetizers, you just needed to look at the Belk Theater stage to see that "The Titan" was the evening's main dish. At the outset of the "Langsam" (Slow) portion of the opening movement, a phalanx of eight French hornists was seated in front of the battery of percussion, which included two sets of timpani drums. More brass lurked offstage. After softly churning strings, reminiscent of Wagner's famed evocation of the Rhine River, played under mournful woodwinds with just a glint of piccolo a trio of distant trumpets was heard, triggering a response from the horns. Then as the trumpeters entered from offstage, the cellos steered us toward echoes of Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony, bringing us the springtime awakening of nature promised in Mahler's 1893 program notes. When the winds reached their bright, full-throated twittering, the season burst into blossom. But with solo spots from Wang's flute, Marino's clarinet, a soft tattoo on the bass drum, and more fine section work from the French horns, there was ample space for reflection afterwards.

Echoes of Strauss II were readily apparent in the "Kräftig bewegt" (Forceful animated) movement that followed, not subtle at all once we had been alerted to them; and in the trio section that followed, the waltzing spirit of the orchestra became more contagious. After timpani and percussion had engaged, there was a nice simple spotlight for Byron Johns and his French horn. The other middle movement, "Feirlich und gemessen" (Solemn and measured), lost its power to intimidate as soon as the listener realized that the fugal figure was a slowed-down, macabre mutation of the familiar "Frère Jacques" nursery song. Initiating the round, principal Kurt Riecken had the rare opportunity to offer us a sampling of his solo handiwork on the double bass, with oboe and clarinet taking us to higher frequencies. Cellos and violas initiated another round before the clarinets lightened the gloom with a klezmer-like interlude.

Aside from the cresting of the opening movement, there was nothing titanic about "The Titan" until we reached the "Stürmisch bewegt" (Stormy animated) finale. Here is where the double-duty barrage of timpani was detonated, though there also was some finesse from the lyrical violins in the early stages. With the entrance of the trombones, the horns, the woodwinds, and the trumpets, the strings throbbed with more urgency. Increasing the final drama, Mahler circled back to the calm, the distant heraldry, and even some of the vernal twittering of the opening movement, and Warren-Green obviously reveled in quietly setting up his final explosion. The entire phalanx of eight French horns stood up, punctuating the majesty and the showmanship of the climax. Programming Mahler yielded some vacant patches down in the orchestra seats and a totally empty upper balcony but the Belk Theater audience responded to "The Titan" with a lusty standing ovation that was as enthusiastic as any I've seen there. Ultimately, they bought into the whole concept as completely as the musicians.

By Perry Tannenbaum, cvnc.org

Read the full review here.