In 1986, a young conductor named Simon Rattle stepped onto the podium with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra to record Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 2, “Resurrection,” for EMI Classics (EMI Classics TOCE-6693-94), laying the groundwork for his future reputation as one of the Mahler interpreters of his generation.
Inside the 24-Minute Opening Movement
Clocking in at an expansive 24 minutes, the first movement relies on a deliberate base tempo that avoids predictable pacing through sudden, calculated fluctuations. Rattle subverts expectations right from the opening bars by twisting the main theme away from a steady beat, while the string section bites into phrases with a raw, dry texture and the woodwinds inject a sharp, chilling color. This tension persists as rhythmic accents in the strings are played with a lingering legato to prevent the phrasing from flattening out. At the second theme, the conductor stretches the melody even further, displaying a restless attention to detail that characterizes the entire performance.
As the movement progresses, dynamic contrasts sharpen into moments of intense scrutiny, exemplified by the whisper-quiet pianissimo passages after rehearsal figure 7 where the harmonic precision remains remarkably taut. Rattle pushes the orchestra toward chaotic extremes near rehearsal figure 15, dragging out a heavy tempo while brass chords shatter and timpani strikes land with apocalyptic force. By the time the music plunges into the recapitulation at “Molto pesante,” the ensemble sound borders on the unhinged, capturing a terrifying fragility embedded in Mahler’s score that few modern directors dare to unleash.
Releasing the Tension Across the Middle Movements
The second movement arrives as a welcome release from the stifling atmosphere of the opener, skipping along at a bright, dance-like pace that highlights the singing warmth of the cello section. Yet Rattle refuses to let the listener settle into comfort, injecting an abrupt, ultra-slow crawl around rehearsal figure 5 before letting the full orchestra roar back with characteristic severity. Moving into the third movement, the snappy snap of the timpani establishes a nervous momentum, heightened by piccolo and flute tones that deliberately ignore soft diminuendo markings to maintain an air of unease.
A sudden gear shift midway through the third movement alters the underlying pulse so radically that the entire music feels momentarily warped. By the fourth movement, British mezzo-soprano Janet Baker brings an innate, poetic warmth and tasteful vibrato to her vocal lines, despite slight signs of vocal strain in the upper register as her career neared its close.
The Cataclysmic Final Resolution
The final movement opens with a formidable wave of orchestral sound from the Birmingham ensemble, fracturing the rhythm before descending into a ferocious ultra-slow buildup at the start of the development section. Rattle unleashes total structural collapse at rehearsal figure 20, driving the tempo into a breakneck acceleration that feels less like a traditional cadence and more like the end of the world.
In stark contrast to the blazing orchestral fury that precedes it, the choral section enters with a translucent, disciplined purity that frames the subsequent peace with profound contrast. Soprano Arleen Auger anchors this serene resolution with luminous grace, delivering a vocal performance that remains all the more poignant given her passing just seven years later at the age of 53.
