Mahler’s Sixth has fared well on disc in recent years‚ but that is not to say that Michael Gielen has nothing new to tell us about it. As with previous instalments in this series‚ the orchestral playing is distinguished if not quite impeccable: you should expect to come across the odd poorly tuned timp or woodwind squawk. And once again the main work is set in an unusual and illuminating context. The inclusion of material from Schubert’s uncompleted (Tenth) symphony is no doubt intended to remind us of the roots of Mahler’s own style (the opening idea is reminiscent of ‘Wenn dein Mütterlein’ from Kindertotenlieder)‚ while Berg’s expressionism sounds here more than ever indebted to Mahler himself. That Berg’s Op 6 Pieces receive expert and invigorating advocacy (in a reading previously available on the Intercord label) is no surprise. But Gielen is also one of our most consistently underrated Mahlerians. The received opinion is that he eschews Romantic baggage in his quest for clarity of execution‚ yet there is never any sense‚ as there sometimes is with Pierre Boulez‚ that he is betraying the grammar and syntax of the music in the process. Boulez contributed a polished and effective mainstream Sixth to his DG portfolio; Gielen is rather more individual. For him the first movement’s Allegro energico‚ ma non troppo marking implies a grim march‚ not exactly funereal à la Barbirolli but slower than the post­Bernstein norm. Placed second‚ the scherzo is a trifle world­weary too‚ whereas the Andante moderato‚ lyrical and linear‚ is surprisingly swift‚ avoiding Brucknerian deep­pile. It is the flexibility within the frame that gives the lie to easy assumptions about Gielen’s own Mahler style. Take the first movement exposition’s familiar‚ so­called ‘Alma’ theme. After the jaunty recall of march­like motifs that Mahler inserts as a middle section‚ the re­sumption of the tune (from 3'43") triggers an outbreak of rubato for which there is no explicit authorisation in the score. Notwithstanding some subjective italicisation of woodwind figures in the development – pauses for thought that defy any sort of established convention – the music proceeds without strain‚ climaxing in a properly euphoric coda. Gielen is at his best in an unusually luminous account of the finale‚ less earth­shattering than Bernstein or Karajan‚ and designedly so‚ yet by no means implausibly cool. At every turn‚ he brings his customary ‘analytical’ focus to the argument‚ and Hänssler’s bright‚ open­textured sound suits his approach. Even spotlit percussion can seem a plus when it comes to those minatory hammer blows. There are no shamefaced half­measures‚ the intelligent restraint never overdone. This fresh and un­conventional package‚ despite the price‚ is worth considering as a supplement to established favourites.