The Mahler Players: Beethoven’s Fourth and Seventh Symphonies

Strathpeffer Spa Pavilion - 08/05/22

The idea of the afternoon classical concert appeals to the historical romantic in me: notions of Edwardian middle classes strolling to the pavilion in the sunshine to hear some ‘improving music’. 

So when I saw that the Mahler Players were performing Beethoven’s Fourth and Seventh symphonies at Strathpeffer Pavilion in Easter Ross on a Sunday afternoon I simply had to go along. 

Not only were my two favourite words in the canon involved in the proposition – Mahler and Beethoven – I had somehow conspired to miss what I’d heard was growing Highlands cultural treasure previously. The Mahler Players are a chamber combo with a deservedly growing reputation, who play across the classical, romantic and modern repertoire. And I hadn’t heard either symphony played by a chamber orchestra in a smaller venue before. 

The Players had tagged the concert ‘Apotheosis of the Dance’, referencing Richard Wagner’s summing up on first hearing Beethoven’s magisterial and rollicking Seventh. These two symphonies represented Beethoven ‘at his most unbuttoned’, the genial conductor and founder of the Mahler Players told us in the informal atmosphere and Sunday sunshine of Easter Ross. They proceeded to deliver performances of both symphonies that were rip-roaring, rumbustious and rich. 

Beethoven unbuttoned enjoyed musical jokes and the powerful minor chords of the opening first movement harkened back to the more serious matters of the Third Symphony, before we were ushered plaintively into the bright ‘Haydnesque’ allegro, carried along masterfully by woodwind and strings. Call and reply were in plentiful and playful evidence, each climax of the opening movement leading inexorably to a sweeping conclusion that made me want to break the stuffy British tradition of reserving the applause until the end of the whole piece. 

The ornamental and pastoral adagio continued in full spring mode, played with precision and flow, preparing the way for a bouncy and rhythmic scherzo. 

The finale has always made me think of a steam train rolling through low hills, interspersed with a giant bellows plugging. No steam trains when Beethoven wrote this back in 1806, but the turning wheel motif is certainly there, and one could imagine a thirty something Ludwig dashing through streets of Vienna in a horse-drawn cab, out for a Stein or a wine, a night out on the ran-0dan with his chums, and perhaps a few dances with some winsome wenches, neither courtly nor coy, in some smoke-filled tavern. 

The Mahler Players’ own joy in the music and that unique interaction between band and audience in a smaller more intimate venue were evidenced throughout. The smile on the face of one cellist as she played was worth the admission fee alone …. and after a picnic coffee under blue skies in the Victorian spa village of Strathpeffer and a chat with some fellow afficionados, the sense of anticipation for the monumental and hugely well-known Seventh was almost palpable. 

The four movements of Beethoven’s terpsichorean masterpiece are all familiar to classical music fans, staple fare on Classic FM. Could the Mahler Players bring a freshness, urgency and sense of occasion to the performance? 

There was never any need for concern. We were in safe hands. The first movement passed smoothly from the great stepping theme, led by timpani and strings, into the body of the allegro, and that memorable ‘call’ theme (reminiscent of the symphonic language of the Western, but obviously prefiguring it as some great classical and early romantic music does) was taken to the natural climax of the opener with knowledgeable and knowing gusto. 

The famous andante was as sombre and stately as it needed to be and soared in the places it needed to soar. 

Then to the galloping rustic scherzo and back to the tavern with the folk-like song theme of the trio, complete with bawdy brass and woodwind chorus. 

Every movement a dance, and it was perhaps not entirely inappropriate when coloured stage lights started inadvertently flashing above the ensemble as we entered the triumphant and unique finale. Could a chamber orchestra of 28 players handle this pounding revolutionary ‘apotheosis’ – particularly the bit near the end when the most brilliant writing for strings makes the orchestra almost seem to begin falling away, before complex chaos becomes once again emergent unity. 

Tomas Leakey and his troops brought it home with the swagger of Jimmy Page playing Kashmir for what is surely one of the great first pumping, crowd-pleasing finales in the symphonic canon. 

Most of the substantial audience applauded from a sedentary position, but a good few of us were compelled to our feet. 

The guy next to me turned and said, “it was just like hearing it for the first time.” - perhaps the best compliment that can be paid to an orchestra performing such well known and beloved work, and I could not disagree. 

The Mahler Players’ next adventure is with Mahler’s sprawling and vastly under-rated Seventh Symphony, on 18th and 29th June, at Inverness Cathedral and Strathpeffer Pavilion, respectively. 

Cover photo: Sam Leakey