Review: Mahler Symphony 3 / Catriona Morison / Prague Philharmonic Choir / Pueri gaudentes / Czech Philharmonic / Semyon Bychkov / Pentatone
When I reviewed Bychkov’s set of the Dvorak late symphonies, I described them as a “decent” set. Well, this is also a decent Mahler 3rd, though “decent” feels inadequate when describing Mahler’s profound testimony to humanity—a symphony that encompasses all the world.
The first movement, while technically accurate with most details audible (tam-tam aside), lacks the essential pathos and raw power this music demands. The dark elements of nature and crucial dynamic contrasts are too subdued and smoothed out. One need only compare this to Bernstein’s first recording with the New York Philharmonic to appreciate how frighteningly visceral this music can be. This restraint continues into the second movement, where, despite the strings’ lovely playing, the vital dance element lacks its necessary spark.
Fortunately, the third movement scherzo emerges as the recording’s strongest point. Here, tension builds organically into an atmospheric journey, though the brass could still deliver more menace in the latter half. The movement’s great climax—that pivotal moment when the curtain opens to reveal human existence—stands as the highlight of the release. The harps (so rarely captured effectively) are clearly audible, with blazing horns, and percussion perfectly recorded in the final moments, even if one might wish for greater momentum.
In the fourth movement, the orchestral playing is commendable, though personally, I would have preferred less vibrato from the mezzo-soprano. Apart from this minor reservation, Bychkov beautifully captures the nocturnal, quasi-existential atmosphere with notably characterful playing from the oboe.
When we reach the “bim-bam” fifth movement, however, disappointment returns. The choir sounds regrettably distant, with some of the crucial “bim-bams” barely audible after the opening seconds. Dynamic contrasts—so essential to Mahler’s vision—remain problematic. The impression is of well-trained choirs performing at a pleasant social gathering rather than delivering Mahler’s profound message.
The ethereal finale—perhaps Mahler’s finest achievement across his entire oeuvre—reveals the recording’s most significant shortcomings. From the hushed opening, one immediately notices the absence of that rich ambience and string opulence that distinguishes the greatest performances. Compared to Chailly’s heart-melting rendition, where every note pulsates with life, Bychkov and the Czech Philharmonic sound curiously flat. What’s missing, fundamentally, is color. Even the climactic outbursts lack emotional impact and necessary punch. More puzzling still are certain interpretive choices: the unexpected extra timpani strike at 23:46 will likely confuse discerning listeners (it certainly confused me) and serves as an anti-climax to what should be a transcendent moment. While Bychkov faithfully observes the fermata in the symphony’s final seconds, the playing turns noticeably unstable from 24:48 onwards, (listen to 24:53 for instance). All in all, an unfortunate conclusion to this otherwise respectable, if not revelatory, performance.
