CD: LPO-0073 Das Lied von der Erde CD booklet

MAHLER das lied von der erde yannick nézet-Séguin conductor sarah connolly mezzo-soprano toby spence tenor LONDON PHILHARMONIC ORCHESTRA

mahler: Das lied von der erde (The song of the earth)

1 Das Trinklied vom Jammer der Erde (Drinking Song of Earth’s Misery) 2 Der Einsame im Herbst (Autumn Loneliness) 3 Von der Jugend (Youth) 4 Von der Schönheit (Beauty) 5 Der Trunkene im Frühling (The Drunkard in Spring) 6 Der Abschied (Farewell)

The story that Mahler avoided calling Das Lied von der Erde his Ninth Symphony because he wished to cheat death, which had claimed Beethoven and Bruckner after they had reached the same stage of their careers, is a much-repeated one, and though its origins may be questionable it has the merit of plausibility. In the summer of 1907, a year after completing his gigantic, life-affirming Eighth Symphony, Mahler was staying with his family at their summer lakeside retreat at Maiernigg when he suffered the double blow of the death from scarlet fever of his elder daughter and the discovery of his own life-threatening heart condition. It was the beginning of a black period for him; ever aware of death, he was now forced even more into making an accommodation with it. Small wonder if portents of mortality gained extra strength.

The summers were when Mahler did most of his composing – winters were devoted to a punishing conducting schedule – but the traumas of 1907 rendered the year creatively fruitless. That is, unless we accept his widow Alma’s assertion that it was at the end of that summer that a friend gave him a copy of Die chinesische Flöte (‘The Chinese Flute’), a small book of assorted Chinese poems, many of them ancient, gathered together in German translations by Hans Bethge. The collection may have had its faults as an academic exercise – Bethge’s ‘translations’ were in fact secondhand adaptations of other men’s work, and many of his attributions are incorrect – but it certainly touched something in Mahler.

Chinoiserie was much in vogue in European art at this time, but Mahler must have been drawn, too, to the poems’ highly concentrated reflections on natural beauty, the transience of human existence and the inevitable acceptance of death. When in 1908 he took up residence in a new summer home at Tolbach in the Dolomite mountains (after a winter season that had seen his final performances as musical director at the Vienna State Opera and his first conducting engagements at the Metropolitan Opera in New York), he had already made a selection and was ready to turn them into an orchestral song-cycle. According

to Alma, ‘he worked at white-heat all the summer … The scope of the composition grew as he worked. He linked up the separate poems and composed interludes, and so found himself drawn more and more to his true musical form – the symphony.’

The symphonic credentials of Das Lied von der Erde are indeed strong. Its unique layout of six movements for alternating tenor and mezzo-soprano soloists and orchestra, with the last almost as long as the first five put together, seems not so unusual in the context of a symphonic canon that had already included much vocal music and a number of pragmatic formal designs, for instance in the Second, Third and Eighth symphonies. And while, compared to those, Das Lied von der Erde is more like a song-cycle – the form that had dominated the earlier part of Mahler’s career – it is surely symphonic in its scope, its long-range thematic coherence and its sense of the voice as an ‘extra instrument’ in an overall orchestral texture rather than as a tune-carrier in need of accompaniment.

The orchestra for Das Lied von der Erde is a rich mix, and leaps into action with immediate and full effect in the first movement, ‘Das Trinklied vom Jammer der Erde’ (‘Drinking Song of

Earth’s Misery’). The solo part is high here, the orchestration thick, and the atmosphere is an almost hysterical one of forced cheerfulness, as if the tenor were drowning in awful awareness of the spoiling hand of death. The glimpse of the grave surmounted by a howling ape is terrifying, the movement’s bleak last chord like an unforgiving blow to the back of the head.

The slow second movement brings a dramatic change in texture, and indeed recurrences of the noisy orchestral sounds of the first movement will be rare from now on, as extreme delicacy and precision take over.

‘Der Einsame im Herbst’ (‘Autumn Loneliness’) is sparingly scored, its winding solo winds and icy muted strings matching the cold intimacy of the poem’s imagery. The only outburst of warmth, at the words ‘Sun of love, will you never shine again?’, is snuffed out like the ‘little lamp’, the hope of one more spring answered by emptiness.

The next three movements are shorter, a trio of scherzos to put thoughts of death temporarily aside. ‘Von der Jugend’ (‘Youth’) is all charm in its depiction of people drinking, talking and laughing in a porcelain pavilion, and its gentle musical orientalisms are carried forward into the fourth movement, ‘Von der Schönheit’

(‘Beauty’), where maidens quietly picking flowers are disturbed by a passing group of horsemen who stir up their emotions (and with it, briefly, the orchestral sound-level) before disappearing to leave in their wake a nameless sense of longing. Finally, ‘Der Trunkene im Frühling’ (‘The Drunkard in Spring’) closes the sequence with a carefree, even boisterous reiteration of the opening movement’s advice to lose yourself in drink. Spring may come, it says, but who cares?

Which brings us to the long final movement, ‘Der Abschied’ (‘Farewell’). At first it seems to be offering a similar picture to that of the

second movement: the heightened senses of a person preparing for death. The vocal line is static, the music weighed down, haunted by intimations of a funeral march which eventually rears itself to full height in a vast and seemingly implacable orchestral development section. The mood of resignation resumes at the singer’s return, but this is not how it will end. As we ‘await the hour’, there suddenly comes realisation: natural beauty will continue; the earth is ever renewing. As the voice soars in ecstatic release, the sense of resolution is total; all is said, and this great work fades away to the serene and gentle pulse of one repeating word – ‘ewig’ (‘forever’).

Programme note © Lindsay Kemp

mahler: Das lied von der erde

1 Das Trinklied vom Jammer der Erde (Li-Tai-Po)

Drinking Song of Earth’s Misery

Schon winkt der Wein im gold’nen Pokale, Doch trinkt noch nicht, erst sing’ ich euch ein Lied!

Das Lied vom Kummer soll auflachend in die Seele euch klingen.

Wenn der Kummer naht, liegen wüst die Gärten der Seele, Welkt hin und stirbt die Freude, der Gesang.

Dunkel ist das Leben, ist der Tod. Herr dieses Hauses!

Dein Keller birgt die Fülle des goldenen Weins!

Hier, diese Laute nenn’ ich mein!

Die Laute schlagen und die Gläser leeren, Das sind die Dinge, die zusammen passen.

Ein voller Becher Weins zur rechten Zeit Ist mehr wert als alle Reiche dieser Erde!

Dunkel ist das Leben, ist der Tod! Das Firmament blaut ewig und die Erde Wird lange fest steh’n und aufblüh’n im Lenz.

Wine is already sparkling in the golden goblet But do not drink yet; first I will sing you a song!

Du aber, Mensch, wie lang lebst denn du?

Nicht hundert Jahre darfst du dich ergötzen An all dem morschen Tande dieser Erde!

Seht dort hinab! Im Mondschein auf den Gräbern Hockt eine wild-gespenstische Gestalt – Ein Aff’ ist’s! Hört ihr, wie sein Heulen

The song of care shall sound laughing in your soul.

When care draws near, the gardens of the soul lie waste, Joy and singing fade away and die.

Dark is life; dark is death.

Lord of this house!

Your cellar holds abundance of golden wine!

I call this lute here my own!

To strike the lute and to drain the glasses, Those are the things which go together.

A brimming cup of wine at the right time Is worth more than all the riches of this earth!

Dark is life; dark is death!

The heavens are ever blue and the earth Will long stand fast and blossom forth in spring.

But thou, O man, how long wilt thou live?

Not one hundred years may’st thou enjoy thyself With all the rotting trifles of this earth!

Look down there! In the moonlight on the graves There crouches a wild and ghostly form – It is an ape! Listen, how its howling

Hinausgellt in den süßen Duft des Lebens!

Jetzt nehmt den Wein! Jetzt ist es Zeit, Genossen!

Leert eure gold’nen Becher zu Grund!

Dunkel ist das Leben, ist der Tod!

Rings out amidst the sweet scent of life!

Now take up the wine! Now, friends, it is time!

2 Der Einsame im Herbst (Tchang-Tsi)

Autumn Loneliness

Herbstnebel wallen bläulich überm See; Vom Reif bezogen stehen alle Gräser; Man meint, ein Künstler habe Staub von Jade Über die feinen Blüten ausgestreut.

The autumn mists drift blue over the lake; The blades of grass stand covered with frost; One would think an artist had strewn jade-dust Over the delicate blossoms.

Der süße Duft der Blumen ist verflogen; Ein kalter Wind beugt ihre Stengel nieder.

Bald werden die verwelkten, gold’nen Blätter Der Lotosblüten auf dem Wasser zieh’n.

The flowers’ sweet scent is gone; An icy wind bends down their stems.

Soon the withered golden leaves Of the lotus-flowers will be drifting on the water.

Mein Herz ist müde. Meine kleine Lampe Erlosch mit Knistern, es gemahnt mich an den Schlaf.

Ich komm’ zu dir, traute Ruhestätte!

Ja, gib mir Ruh’, ich hab’ Erquickung not!

My heart is weary. My little lamp Has gone out with a sputter, it urges me to go to sleep.

I come to you, beloved place of rest, Yes, give me rest; I need refreshment!

Ich weine viel in meinen Einsamkeiten.

Der Herbst in meinem Herzen währt zu lange.

Sonne der Liebe, willst du nie mehr scheinen, Um meine bittern Tränen mild aufzutrocknen?

Long do I weep in my loneliness.

The autumn in my heart endures too long.

Sun of love, will you never shine again Tenderly to dry my bitter tears?

Drain your golden cups to the depths!

Dark is life; dark is death!

3 Von der Jugend (Li-Tai-Po)

Youth

Mitten in dem kleinen Teiche Steht ein Pavillon aus grünem Und aus weißem Porzellan.

Wie der Rücken eines Tigers Wölbt die Brücke sich aus Jade Zu dem Pavillon hinüber.

In the middle of the little pool Stands a pavilion of green And white porcelain.

Like a tiger’s back, The jade bridge arches itself Over to the pavilion.

In dem Häuschen sitzen Freunde, Schön gekleidet, trinken, plaudern, Manche schreiben Verse nieder.

In the little house friends are sitting Prettily dressed, drinking and chattering; Some are writing down verses.

Ihre seidnen Ärmel gleiten Rückwärts, ihre seidnen Mützen Hocken lustig tief im Nacken.

Their silk sleeves fall Backwards; their silk caps fall Roguishly over their necks.

Auf des kleinen Teiches stiller Wasserfläche zeigt sich alles Wunderlich im Spiegelbilde.

On the still surface of the little pool Everything is reflected Wonderfully as in a mirror.

Alles auf dem Kopfe stehend In dem Pavillon aus grünem Und aus weißem Porzellan.

Everything is standing on its head In the pavilion of green And white porcelain.

Wie ein Halbmond steht die Brücke, Umgekehrt der Bogen. Freunde, Schön gekleidet, trinken, plaudern.

The bridge stands like a half-moon With its arch upside-down. Friends Prettily dressed are drinking and chattering.

4 Von der Schönheit (Li-Tai-Po)

Beauty

Junge Mädchen pflücken Blumen, Pflücken Lotosblumen an dem Uferrande.

Zwischen Büschen und Blättern sitzen sie,

Young girls are picking flowers, Lotus-flowers by the river-bank.

They are sitting among the bushes and the leaves, Gathering blossoms in their laps and calling Teasingly to one another.

The golden sun shines over their forms And reflects them in the clear water; The sun reflects their slender limbs, And their sweet eyes.

And the breeze lifts their embroidered sleeves Caressingly, and carries the magic of their perfume Through the air.

Oh see, what fair youths are those There by the river-bank on their brave steeds?

Flashing in the distance like sunbeams, The gay young men are trotting by, Among the branches of the green willows!

The steed of one of them neighs merrily, Hesitates and plunges on.

His hooves pass over flowers and grass; Stormily they trample down the fallen blossoms.

How his mane tosses in frenzy!

Hot steam blows from his nostrils.

The golden sun shines over the forms And reflects them in the clear water.

Sammeln Blüten in den Schoß und rufen Sich einander Neckereien zu.

Gold’ne Sonne webt um die Gestalten Spiegelt sie im blanken Wasser wider, Sonne spiegelt ihre schlanken Glieder, Ihre süßen Augen wider.

Und der Zephir hebt mit Schmeichelkosen das Gewebe Ihrer Ärmel auf, führt den Zauber Ihrer Wohlgerüche durch die Luft.

O sieh, was tummeln sich für schöne Knaben Dort an dem Uferrand auf mut’gen Rossen?

Weithin glänzend wie die Sonnenstrahlen; Schon zwischen dem Geäst der grünen Weiden Trabt das jungfrische Volk einher!

Das Roß des einen wiehert fröhlich auf Und scheut und saust dahin, Über Blumen, Gräser, wanken hin die Hufe, Sie zerstampfen jäh im Sturm die hingesunk’nen Blüten.

Hei! Wie flattern im Taumel seine Mähnen, Dampfen heiß die Nüstern!

Gold’ne Sonne webt um die Gestalten, Spiegelt sie im blanken Wasser wider.

Und die schönste von den Jungfrau’n sendet Lange Blicke ihm der Sehnsucht nach.

Ihre stolze Haltung ist nur Verstellung.

In dem Funkeln ihrer großen Augen, In dem Dunkel ihres heißen Blicks Schwingt klagend noch die Erregung ihres Herzens nach.

And the fairest of the maidens casts Looks of longing after him.

Her proud bearing is only pretence.

In the flashing of her large eyes In the darkness of her warm glances, Her anxious heart cries after him.

5 Der Trunkene im Frühling (Li-Tai-Po)

The Drunkard in Spring

Wenn nur ein Traum das Leben ist, Warum denn Müh’ und Plag’?

Ich trinke, bis ich nicht mehr kann, Den ganzen, lieben Tag!

If life is but a dream, Why are there toil and misery?

I drink till I can drink no more The whole, long, merry day!

Und wenn ich nicht mehr trinken kann, Weil Kehl’ und Seele voll, So tauml’ ich bis zu meiner Tür Und schlafe wundervoll!

And when I can drink no more, For body and mind are sated, I stagger to my door And sleep wonderfully.

Was hör ich beim Erwachen? Horch!

Ein Vogel singt im Baum.

Ich frag’ ihn, ob schon Frühling sei, Mir ist als wie im Traum.

And what do I hear when I awake? Hark!

A bird is singing in the tree.

I ask him if it is already spring; It seems to me like a dream.

Der Vogel zwitschert: Ja! Der Lenz Ist da, ist kommen über Nacht!

Aus tiefstem Schauen lauscht’ ich auf, Der Vogel singt und lacht!

The bird twitters: Yes! Spring Is here; it came overnight!

With deep attention I listened for it; The bird sings and laughs!

Ich fülle mir den Becher neu Und leer’ ihn bis zum Grund Und singe, bis der Mond erglänzt Am schwarzen Firmament!

I fill my glass anew And drain it to the bottom, And sing until the moon shines out In the dark heavens.

Und wenn ich nicht mehr singen kann, So schlaf’ ich wieder ein.

Was geht mich denn der Frühling an?

Laßt mich betrunken sein!

And when I can sing no more, I fall asleep again.

What have I to do with spring?

Let me remain a drunkard!

6 Der Abschied (Mong-Kao-Yen and Wang-Wei)

Farewell

Die Sonne scheidet hinter dem Gebirge.

In alle Täler steigt der Abend nieder Mit seinen Schatten, die voll Kühlung sind.

O sieh! Wie eine Silberbarke schwebt Der Mond am blauen Himmelssee herauf.

Ich spüre eines feinen Windes Weh’n Hinter den dunklen Fichten!

Der Bach singt voller Wohllaut durch das Dunkel.

Die Blumen blassen im Dämmerschein.

Die Erde atmet voll von Ruh’ und Schlaf.

Alle Sehnsucht will nun träumen.

Die müden Menschen geh’n heimwärts, Um im Schlaf vergeßnes Glück Und Jugend neu zu lernen!

Die Vögel hocken still in ihren Zweigen.

Die Welt schläft ein!

The sun sinks behind the mountains.

Evening falls in the valleys With its shadows, full of cooling freshness.

See, how the moon above floats like a silver ship On the blue sea of the heavens.

I feel a gentle wind blowing Behind the dark pines!

The brook sings loud and melodious through the darkness.

The flowers grow pale in the twilight.

The earth breathes deeply in rest and sleep.

All longing now has turned to dreaming.

The tired people go homewards To find forgotten happiness in sleep And to learn youth anew!

The birds crouch silent on the branches.

The world falls asleep!

Es wehet kühl im Schatten meiner Fichten.

Ich stehe hier und harre meines Freundes; Ich harre sein zum letzten Lebewohl.

Ich sehne mich, o Freund, an deiner Seite Die Schönheit dieses Abends zu genießen.

Wo bleibst du? Du läßt mich lang allein!

Ich wandle auf und nieder mit meiner Laute Auf Wegen, die von weichem Grase schwellen.

O Schönheit! O ewigen Liebens-Lebenstrunk’ne Welt!

Er stieg vom Pferd und reichte ihm den Trunk Des Abschieds dar. Er fragte ihn, wohin Er führe und auch warum es müßte sein.

Er sprach, und seine Stimme war umflort: Du, mein Freund, Mir war auf dieser Welt das Glück nicht hold!

Wohin ich geh’? Ich geh’, ich wand’re in die Berge.

Ich suche Ruhe für mein einsam Herz.

Ich wandle nach der Heimat! Meiner Stätte.

Ich werde niemals in die Ferne schweifen.

Still ist mein Herz und harret seiner Stunde!

Die liebe Erde allüberall blüht auf im Lenz und grünt Aufs neu! Allüberall und ewig blauen licht die Fernen!

Ewig... ewig...

There is a cool breeze in the shadow of the pines.

I stand here waiting for my friend; I wait for him to take a last farewell.

I long, my friend, to enjoy the beauty Of the evening at your side.

Where are you? You have left me alone so long!

I wander up and down with my lute On paths rich with soft grass.

O beauty! O world, drunk for ever with love and life!

He dismounted and I gave him the parting cup.

I asked him where He was going, and also why it must be.

He spoke, and his tones were veiled; O my friend, Fortune was not kind to me in this world!

Where am I going? I shall wander in the mountains, I am seeking rest for my lonely heart.

I shall wander to my native land, to my home.

I shall never roam abroad.

Still is my heart; it is awaiting its hour!

Everywhere the lovely earth blossoms forth in spring and grows green Anew! Everywhere, for ever, horizons are blue and bright!

For ever and ever ...

© Copyright 1989 by Universal Edition A.G., Wien.

Text by Hans Bethge from ‘Die Chinesischen Flöte’ © with permission by Yin Yang Media Verlages.

English translation reprinted by kind permission of Decca Music Group Limited.

© Marco Borggreve

YANNICK NéZET-SéGuin conductor

Yannick Nézet-Séguin became Music Director of The Philadelphia Orchestra at the start of the 2012/13 season, and has been Principal Guest Conductor of the London Philharmonic Orchestra and Music Director of the Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra since 2008. He has conducted all the major ensembles in his native Canada and has been Artistic Director and Principal Conductor of the Orchestre Métropolitain (Montreal) since 2000.

He also enjoys a close partnership with the Berliner Philharmoniker, Staatskapelle Berlin, Dresden Staatskapelle, Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, Wiener Philharmoniker and Chamber Orchestra of Europe. He has a regular presence at the Théâtre des ChampsElysées in Paris and the Konzerthaus Dortmund, the latter as Artist in Residence from the 2013/14 season.

As an opera conductor, he has appeared at the Salzburg Festival; Teatro alla Scala; Royal Opera House, Covent Garden; Netherlands Opera; and Opéra de Montréal. For the Metropolitan Opera he has conducted Carmen, Don Carlo, Faust and La traviata, and returns each season. In 2011

he embarked on a major Mozart opera series for the Festspielhaus Baden-Baden.

Yannick Nézet-Séguin’s previous disc on the LPO Label is a recording of Brahms’s Ein deutsches Requiem (LPO-0045). Recent and forthcoming additions to his extensive discography include The Rite of Spring with The Philadelphia Orchestra, a Tchaikovsky disc with the Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra and Lisa Batiashvili, Così fan tutte with the Chamber Orchestra of Europe and Don Giovanni with the Mahler Chamber Orchestra, all for Deutsche Grammophon. He has made recordings for EMI Classics and BIS Records, and continues to enjoy a close relationship with the Canadian label ATMA Classique.

A native of Montreal, Yannick Nézet-Séguin attended the Conservatoire de musique du Québec in Montreal and Westminster Choir College in Princeton, New Jersey, before going on to study with renowned conductors, most notably the Italian maestro Carlo Maria Giulini. His honours include a prestigious Royal Philharmonic Society Award; Canada’s highly coveted National Arts Centre Award; and the Prix Denise-Pelletier. He received an honorary doctorate from the University of Quebec in Montreal in 2011, and was appointed a Companion of the Order of Canada in 2012.

Sarah connolly mezzo-soprano

toby spence tenor

A regular guest at the world’s great opera houses, stage highlights have included Dido at La Scala; Komponist and Clairon at the Metropolitan Opera; Fricka at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden; Giulio Cesare and Brangäne at Glyndebourne Festival Opera; Sesto and Ariodante at the Aix-en-Provence Festival; Phèdre at the Paris Opera; Orfeo at the Bayerische Staatsoper; Nerone and Agrippina at the Gran Teatro del Liceu; Maria Stuarda and Roméo at Opera North; and Octavian at Scottish Opera. Her many roles for English National Opera have included Sesto, Medea, Octavian, Agrippina, Ariodante, Xerxes, Roméo and Didon.

Toby Spence has sung with the Cleveland Orchestra under Christoph von Dohnányi, the Berlin Philharmonic and Vienna Philharmonic under Sir Simon Rattle, the San Francisco Symphony under Michael Tilson Thomas, the Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia under Sir Antonio Pappano, the Rotterdam Philharmonic under Valery Gergiev, the London Symphony Orchestra under Sir Colin Davis, the Los Angeles Philharmonic under Gustavo Dudamel, and at the Salzburg and Edinburgh festivals under Sir Roger Norrington and Sir Charles Mackerras.

He has appeared in recital at the Edinburgh Festival, Opéra de Lille and Wigmore Hall.

Sarah is particularly admired for her performances of Mahler: notable appearances have included Symphony No. 2 with the Boston Symphony Orchestra under Christoph von Dohnányi and the Leipzig Gewandhausorchester under Riccardo Chailly; Symphony No. 8 with the Philharmonia Orchestra and Lorin Maazel; Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen with the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment and Vladimir Jurowski; Des Knaben Wunderhorn with the Orchestre des Champs-Élyseés and Philippe Herreweghe; and Rückert-Lieder with the Hallé and Sir Mark Elder.

For the Royal Opera, Toby has sung Ferdinand (The Tempest), David (Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg), Count Almaviva (The Barber of Seville), Ramiro (La Cenerentola), Tom Rakewell (The Rake’s Progress) and Essex (Gloriana). For English National Opera his roles have included Tamino (The Magic Flute), Candide, Paris (La belle Hélène), Lensky (Eugene Onegin) and Faust.

At the Paris Opera he has sung Tom Rakewell and David, and for the Vienna State Opera Don Ottavio. He has sung at Glyndebourne Festival Opera, Bayerische Staatsoper, Hamburg Staatsoper, San Francisco Opera, the Lyric Opera of Chicago and the Metropolitan Opera. He was the winner of the Royal Philharmonic Society 2011 Singer of the Year award.

She was awarded a CBE in the 2010 New Year Honours.

London Philharmonic orchestra

The London Philharmonic Orchestra has been Resident Symphony Orchestra at Southbank Centre’s Royal Festival Hall since 1992 and there

it presents its main series of concerts between September and May each year. In summer, the Orchestra moves to Sussex where it has been Resident at Glyndebourne Festival Opera for 50 years. The Orchestra also performs at venues around the UK and has made numerous tours to America, Europe and Japan, and visited India, Hong Kong, China, South Korea, Australia, Oman, South Africa and Abu Dhabi.

The London Philharmonic Orchestra made its first recordings on 10 October 1932, just three days after its first public performance. It has recorded and broadcast regularly ever since, and in 2005 established its own record label.

These recordings are taken mainly from live concerts given by conductors including LPO Principal Conductors from Beecham and Boult, through Haitink, Solti and Tennstedt, to Masur and Jurowski. lpo.org.uk

© Patrick Harrison

The London Philharmonic Orchestra is known as one of the world’s great orchestras with a reputation secured by its performances in the concert hall and opera house, its many award-winning recordings, its trail-blazing international tours and its pioneering education work. Distinguished conductors who have held positions with the Orchestra since its foundation in 1932 by Sir Thomas Beecham include Sir Adrian Boult, Sir John Pritchard, Bernard Haitink, Sir Georg Solti, Klaus Tennstedt, Franz Welser-Möst and Kurt Masur. Vladimir Jurowski was appointed the Orchestra’s Principal Guest Conductor in March 2003 and became Principal Conductor in September 2007.

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Brahms: A German Requiem (Yannick Nézet-Séguin) ‘I found so many things to enjoy that I didn’t begrudge a single minute of the time spent to savour them.’ Gramophone

GUSTAV MAHLER (1860–1911)

64:05

Das Lied von der Erde (The Song of the Earth)

01 02 03 04 05 06

8:05 9:34 3:02 7:22 4:18 31:44

Das Trinklied vom Jammer der Erde (Drinking Song of Earth’s Misery) Der Einsame im Herbst (Autumn Loneliness) Von der Jugend (Youth) Von der Schönheit (Beauty) Der Trunkene im Frühling (The Drunkard in Spring) Der Abschied (Farewell)

yannick nézet-séguin conductor sarah connolly mezzo-soprano

toby spence tenor london philharmonic ORCHESTRA

Pieter Schoeman leader

Recorded live at Southbank Centre’s ROYAL FESTIVAL HALL, London

LPO – 0073