"Please continue to love this orchestra; I feel almost guilty that I am leaving," were Andris Nelsons' parting words to the packed audience gathered for his final concert in Symphony Hall as music director of the CBSO after seven amazing years.
He embraced us all as his "family" on both sides of the stage, leaving now as he devotes himself to nurturing the Boston Symphony Orchestra, though during this emotional evening, relayed live by BBC Radio 3, I couldn't help wondering if Andris would ever undergo such an experience in Massachussetts as that he created on this very special occasion.
The programme was well-chosen, both dealing with the force of nature, the first, brief offering being the 海角视频 premiere of Lakes Awake at Dawn by the young Latvian composer Eriks Esenwalds (a co-commission from the BSO and CBSO, with Feeney Trust support).
This atmospheric choral setting of poetry by Inga Abele and Esenwalds himself (excellently translated by Edita Page) describes the dawning of light over water, and has a warmth of tone which allies it with similar works from the English tradition; it is no detriment that we hear evocations of Holst's Saturn as the end nears.
Simon Halsey's CBSO Chorus found every opportunity to project their articulation, and the orchestra responded well to Esenwalds mildly adventurous scoring, though effects which looked intriguing on the page didn't always make their aural mark.
Nelsons made sure the work's fluency of texture and pacing of dynamics were successfully conveyed.
See pictures of rehearsals for the concert here
Then came a huge "Nature" work, Mahler's vast Third Symphony, evoking primordial pantheism and struggling towards a unified view of creation. This near two-hour work can sprawl and exasperate, with an opening movement the length of a mature Beethoven symphony and ending with a finale into which a complete Haydn symphony could be fitted.
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And let's not speak of the central movements which can irritate beyond measure.
But Nelsons has the measure of Mahler, seeing in which direction the architectural span is going (such as his move towards the gorgeously swooning moments in the second movement, and his joyously throwing the ball to the horns in the third).
Sticking with these supposedly slighter central movements, Michaela Schuster was the Erda-like mezzo soloist in the "O Mensch, gib Acht!" Nietzche setting, joined by the ebullient CBSO Chorus Ladies, sounding delightfully youthful, and Julian Wilkins' remarkable CBSO Youth and Children's Choruses for the medieval exuberance of "Es sungen drei Engel".
Full marks to the youngsters for their exemplary attentiveness throughout such a long concert. And so to the top and tail.
The opening movement, nature stirring into life, was persuasively delivered under Nelsons, his conducting gestures constantly alert and choreographic (one of his CBSO predecessors, Boult, would not have approved), balancing colour, dynamics and multi-metred textures always with the most detailed clarity.
World-stopping is an appropriate word for the finale, and some conductors might make its melodic/harmonic richness sound glutinous. Nelsons gave it a flow and sense of direction, growing at last to the tremendous affirmation, two timpanists pounding out the most fundamental of musical intervals (nice to welcome back Peter Hill as an old-stager -- trumpeter Alan Thomas was another), as Mahler's vision of the world was at last achieved.
This finale's gorgeous melody has a phrase initially sung out by Eduardo Vassallo's cellists, and it sounds hauntingly like the tune of the old song "I'll be seeing you in all the old familiar places".
Sorry, Andris, we won't. But we all wish we were.