One of my basic conducting philosophies is that one should give the players at least two opportunities to play without fear of being corrected or interrupted- two chances where they can be absolutely fearless and take risks. For me, those are the first rehearsal and the concert(s). The concert is, hopefully, a lot more polished, but I know that often orchestra musicians feel like they shine the most the night we read something (I often felt that in my playing days). You’re free to take risks, and, even in a major band, you’re allowed the odd miss, which (of course!) means you sometimes miss less.   After a slightly nervy beginning for some of the players, I would say the read through more or less lived up to that goal. Certainly, I think most of the musicians who hadn’t played it before were much more relaxed at the end of the evening. Mahler writes so fantastically indiomatically that his music always ends up being more playable than one expects. M2 is somewhat problematic to read as there are so many metric shifts and modulations (Elliot Carter did not invent metric modulation!) that pencils are flying all night writing in what is in two or in four or in one- that one distraction makes it somewhat harder to enjoy the reading in the same way you would a reading of a Beethoven or Brahms symphony.

  Now, on to our first working rehearsal… Tonight we have all our offstage horns in town from Walla Walla, Washington, so we focus on the Finale. Although technically challenging, much of the last movement is more forgiving than, say, the second and third movements. We work from the great C Major outburst at the end of the exposition (figure 11) through the development to the end. Once one gets into the main F minor development section (figure 14 for you Mahler nuts out there), half the battle is getting the strings to use less bow and stay in the lower half, especially the violins until you’ve finished the destruction of the world. Overall, it progresses well, my only real frustration is in having to repeat a number of things I said at the read through about when I go into two or one or four. This is kind of a pet peeve of mine, as it is something that %85 of the orchestra doesn’t need to be told once, they can tell by watching, and that %13 of the orchestra only need to hear once, but that %2 percent of the orchestra seem to need to hear many, many times. Unfortunately, a Mahler symphony in which %2 of the players are playing at half or twice the tempo is not a satisfying musical experience for anyone… In my experience, these ratios are exactly the same at every orchestra, everywhere in the world. 

  One last logistical worry remains- one of our horns, who I was always reluctant to engage because of his track record as an unrepentant flake, has not sent in his contract or answered our emails. Peter, who is our acting first horn while our regular principal is pregnant (apparently it is better to stick to low horn when you are expecting… the things one learns doing this), and I have a chat about alternate part assignments and finding a replacement. We agree to set a final deadline to hear from the guy, before making the switch. It’s somewhat touchy as the player in question directs another orchestra in the region (you would think he would know better!) and we sometimes need to work with him on player recruitment. Peter and I decide to try and engage another player no matter what- we can use her as an assistant if the guy shows. I would bet my mother’s pension he’s a no-show.    We end the rehearsal with some slow work on the third movement. I talked through the symphony with Leonard Slatkin last month and he had some sage advice “Everyone thinks the first movement will be really hard, but it’s not that bad, then everyone thinks the second movement won’t be so bad, but it is extremely hard. Then you get to the third movement, which everyone expects to be difficult, and really is- actually worse than they think.” He’s right, but he also told me that, once the notes are learned and the players start to feel the swing of the tempo, it suddenly more-or-less sorts itself out. By the end of the night we’re nowhere near there, but at least I can see what he meant.     

Finally, the first rehearsal is here. After all the buildup, it’s a surprisingly normal evening.    A word about the OES: We have a consistent local core of musicians, most of whom have been with the orchestra for a long time, who come to all of our rehearsals. They make up pretty much our entire woodwind section, about half of the brass and half of the strings, although mostly lower strings. Then, for a full orchestra concert, we’ll bring in the rest of the musicians just for the weekend of the concert. The system works well in that in enables us to do works we otherwise couldn’t do at a level we couldn’t otherwise achieve, but it is a stressful way to work, and the penultimate rehearsal is always scary as there are so many players trying to fit in to what has already been worked on with the core.    So, one surprise, a number of our imports who normally can only come for those final two rehearsals are there for the first reading. It’s great for me to see, and probably even better for the core players to see. It shows that the imports are taking the orchestra ever more seriously and they care enough to make more time for us.   So, tune and off we go. After all the discussions, production meetings and so on, it feels kind of, well, normal. One of our normally very strong brass players seems really nervous I the first movement, but by the finale, he’s playing very well. We get through the whole thing and fix a few little spots. This is looking fun after all…

I land in Seattle and have two messages on my voice mail from our principal trumpet. It seems that the third trumpet’s promise to find someone meant that he would ask the principal to find someone for him.  Actually, James is remarkably good humored about it (he would rather do the work than end up with someone he didn’t know) ,and seems to have solved the problem.
 
I usually go straight from the Seattle airport to rehearsal, a drive of about 4 ½ hours after a trans-Atlantic, but this time my itinerary has gotten me in too late to make it to Pendleton, so I have the pleasure of a quiet night in a hotel, where I can have a leisurely evening of studying.
 
I’ve covered the work twice and rehearsed it for a third orchestra, so I know it quite well. I’m now at a stage where I’m trying to make sure I go through the whole piece every day, and do consciously look for and think about different things each time. The piece is so vast and complex you could play this game endlessly. One day I might focus on key relationships, another on isolating motives, another on balance problems and details of texture. Since the first rehearsal is tomorrow, I decide just to focus on the nuts and bolts of getting the orchestra through a reading- where I’ll have to tell them what I’m beating, who’s going to need help where, and looking for conductor traps. Often a player or section might have hundreds and hundreds of bars rest, and then come in very discretely once a few bars before they have a significant solo. Harp, percussion and low brass parts are full of these. I have a nice quiet evening with the score and go to bed knowing that the next day we finally get started rehearsing.

Performing a Mahler symphony is like power lifting in ice skates. The musical demands are immense- it is heavy lifting for everyone- and yet the complicated logistics of extra players, off stage instruments, soloists and so on mean that you’re constantly putting out fires as you approach the concert. I’ve covered the piece twice before, at the Cincinnati Symphony and the BBC National Orchestra of Wales and also assisted on it at the University of Cincinnati, and each time I’ve seen this. Players get hurt, singers get sick, extensions aren’t big enough….     

Two weeks and three days until our performance and I receive an email from our very wonderful soprano soloist. She sang Micaela with us in Carmen two years ago and blew everyone away. The subject line looks harmless “Mahler 2,” but I have a sinking feeling right away. Sure enough, she has been offered a role in a Broadway show, Jerome Kern, no less. It’s a huge opportunity for her, and all the more important since she’s only been in New York a few months. She’s at least done some work and contacted some other singers to check their availability. I tell her to give me forty-eight hours to work on it. I want to help her- I understand the importance of the gig for her, but I need to find someone who’s not just a fine singer, but right for this piece. I also have a board to contend with! 

 Amy has given me two names, one of them has an extensive website with a number of audio samples. She’s a very fine singer and a first rate musician- there’s some very challenging music on there- but I think her voice is a little too dark for this piece. I want a real contrast between the two women’s voices in this piece. I feel that Mahler likes to contrast feminine archetypes, so I like a rich, earth-mother type of alto voice and a lighter, more agile soprano. On the other hand, you need someone who can project, although most of the orchestration is very transparent when she sings. That night I call the orchestra to let them know what’s going on and make a few calls on my own to other singers. The next morning Amy and I chat by email, and she suggests that her other colleague might have more the voice I’m looking for. There’s no easy way to listen to her, though, as she doesn’t have a website. She does give me her teacher’s number, and fortunately he is a genuinely great artist and someone who knows the work. He and I chat and I’m convinced she’s right. I call the orchestra again and ask if they’re okay with me making this switch. No one wants to lose Amy, but we know we have to let her go, so it’s approved. I confirm our new soprano (also named Amy!) is still interested and offer her the role, then email Amy number 1 to tell her she’s free. It’s been 42 hours. 

Relieved, I take the dog for a walk, then come back and make a coffee. While I’m chilling out I foolishly decide to check my US voice mail. My third trumpet, who is also leading the offstage trumpets, has a family conflict that has come up….