The source of this performance is a privately made recording on acetates, so the ear of faith and tolerance of a deal of extraneous noise are needed to enjoy the results. By coincidence the same performance has also appeared recently in the 12-CD New York Philharmonic box reviewed by JS (1/99), available by special order. There the sound is markedly superior, which brings into question whether or not the same original source has been used. In any case the NYPO issue isn’t generally available so most collectors will have to bear with the inferior Naxos sound. Persistence will be rewarded as the sound improves markedly for the final three songs.
Although we have the famous Decca set as the ultimate evidence of Ferrier’s very special gifts in this work, it is fascinating to hear her three years earlier already entirely inside her part and indeed, in some respects – listen to the final pages of the second song or ‘Trunk’ne Welt’, the aching ‘ewigs’ in the finale – even more emotionally overwhelming in a live performance than she was to be in the studio. The finale, as you would expect, reaches great heights of eloquence. In spite of having just recovered from a cold, Ferrier is in glorious voice.
This makes Walter’s fourth reading now available. His interpretation hardly altered over the years. Why should it when it remains the most convincing, most immediate ever committed to disc? Listening to it once more, I again thought: yes, of course, this is exactly how Mahler wanted to hear the score – taut, devoid of unwanted sentimentality (Walter’s speeds here are just that much quicker than on the Decca version) yet flexible as regards perfectly judged rubato, and infinitely moving and scrupulously observant of the composer’s markings. As in the 1953 recording on Music & Arts, the New York Philharmonic play like inspired creatures for Walter, matching their Vienna colleagues on the equally heart-rending pioneering live version of 1936 (Dutton). Not even the sometimes murky sound can obscure the depths and warmth of the New York strings or the keenness of the wind, especially in the purely orchestral passage in the last song.
Svanholm was also the tenor soloist in 1953. Five years earlier he is just as admirable once you have accustomed yourself to his slightly uncomfortable production; JS rightly declared that ‘it is a rare pleasure to hear the tenor songs as resolutely conquered and characterized.’ Indeed I don’t think I have heard a better account of the fifth song anywhere, he and Walter creating just the idea of devil-may-care fatalism Mahler intended. All in all, anybody passing up the chance to acquire this issue on account of its indifferent sound will be missing a startlingly vital, inspired performance. At the price, it’s worth a whirl as an addition to any other set you may possess.'