Performing Arts : Recordings

MAHLER: “Des Knaben Wunderhorn”

Anne Sofie von Otter, mezzo-soprano; Thomas Quasthoff, baritone; Berlin Philharmonic, Claudio Abbado, conductor

Deutsche Grammophon

* * * *

MAHLER: Four Songs from “Des Knaben Wunderhorn,” Ruckert Lieder, “Kindertotenlieder”

Waltraud Meier, mezzo-soprano; Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, Lorin Maazel, conductor

RCA Victor Red Seal

* * 1/2

A wonderful compilation of humor, philosophy, military flourishes and dialogues between would-be lovers, Mahler’s “Des Knaben Wunderhorn” is not all that unfamiliar to concertgoers, since it includes pre-echoes of future symphonies and, in the case of “Urlicht,” an actual movement from Symphony No. 2. For Abbado, whose complete Mahler symphony cycle intermittently struck fire, “Wunderhorn” is his best Mahler recording in many a year, for he now leans headlong into the rhythms and finds new depth and freedom in the lingering passages (his “Urlicht” has grown considerably since his 1977 Chicago Symphony recording of the Symphony No. 2). Von Otter is marvelous, pointing out each word with emotional commitment and intensity. Quasthoff is a little shaky at times, yet in his rugged, Fischer-Dieskau-influenced way, turns in some highly communicative singing. In the songs that call for dialogues between the male and female singers, one singer handles both parts--which, though sanctioned by Mahler, isn’t nearly as effective as having two. Still, this beautifully recorded “Wunderhorn” belongs in the top ranks.

Maazel’s return to Mahler nine years after finishing his recordings of the symphonies is primarily a showcase for Meier, who takes a less detailed, more straightforward view of four songs from “Wunderhorn” than Quasthoff and Von Otter. In the other song cycles, Meier mostly maintains a cool, thoughtful head with occasional gusts of passion in which her high-register vibrato can wobble under pressure. Though Maazel impatiently hurries through “Liebst du um Schonheit” from “Ruckert Lieder” and doesn’t display nearly as much imagination as Abbado in “Wunderhorn,” he is often nicely relaxed and flowing elsewhere.