And now...the Day! Petrenko's mastery on display at the BBC Proms

The Master
Photo credit: BBC

Apparently, Kirill Petrenko had injured his foot, forcing him to pull out of the following day's performance of Schnittke and Shostakovich (Daniel Harding took over, replacing the symphony with Bruckner's Fourth, see review here). It seemed, however, that nobody had informed Petrenko of his own injury, and he conducted with his trademark precision and energy; to watch him at work with the Berlin Philharmonic was as electrifying as the music he crafted. 

Petrenko, now beginning his fourth season at the helm of the Philharmoniker, has already made this most difficult of symphonies a bit of a personal showpiece, after a memorable 2018 performance with his old band, the Bavarian State Orchestra, at the Barbican, and a much-praised record release of the Munich performance with the same orchestra. However, this Prom proved about as far removed from a routine performance as possible, as all were in for an exhilarating journey through Mahlerian fantasy-land. It was clear that Petrenko found a way through what many find to be Mahler's most problematic symphony. The Seventh appears to resist labels, floating between the sinister night and triumphant day, mixing between the two dichotomies. Petrenko was able to control this effortlessly, bringing coherence to Mahler's restless world, yet delighting in its unevenness. 

The first movement, with tense undercurrents of anxiety, almost consuming all before a determined brass march beats it away, set up the drama of the whole symphony. Petrenko emphasised every detail, drawing an incredible atmosphere from his players. It is completely true that the title of the finest orchestra in the world may be a reductive and oversimplified argument, but on nights like this, one couldn't help but be bowled over by the technical marvels and brilliance of the Berliners. Golden melodic lines in perfect unison at the very top register of the violins, drama and precision from a nigh-faultless brass section, and woodwind soloists that played to the Albert Hall as if it were a chamber venue, so compelling was their music-making.

The Nachtmusik movements were performed with a fitting grotesque beauty, never lingering, but dancing flittingly across the musical soundscape: from eerie offstage bells to dialogues between the winds and string soloists, devilish bursts of the brass contrasting the melodic mandolin and guitar, Petrenko remained in control as the master of sinister revels throughout. 

It was Mahler himself who, rehearsing for the premiere of his symphony, shouted over the orchestra: "and now comes the day!" as the curtains are flung open to the finale, letting the light stream in with a flurry of brass fanfares that soar above the orchestra. Here, Petrenko was unapologetic in his jubilation, driving his forces on, led by a fearless brass section, into a kaleidoscope of sounds and colours, allowing the night to return only for it to be comprehensively rejected in exuberant C Major. The musical references to the finale of Wagner's Meistersinger are often highlighted, and indeed with reason, for among the lurchings of tempo, of seeming uneven chaos and disorder, Mahler paints a picture of darkness to light, embracing all humanity in triumph. With Petrenko bearing the lantern, there was little ambiguity about the chaos, transforming it into a joyful celebration of the day, with clarity and conviction despite all frenzy. A real season highlight.