The heavens elude BSO in its opener

By Andrew L. Pincus By Andrew L. Pincus Special to the Eagle

LENOX -- On paper, Mahler's "Resurrection" Symphony must have looked like a good choice to open the Boston Symphony Orchestra's Tanglewood season.

After all, Tanglewood itself is returning to life after the winter's sleep. Add to that a monumental work with a roof-raising choral finale, and you have the makings of a celebratory first night. Even the weather cooperated, providing a cool, clear Berkshire evening.

Alas, things didn't quite work out in the celebratory manner Friday.

The BSO is rarely at its best after the two months of Pops and vacation that precede Tanglewood. This year, in addition, Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos was on the podium, taking Seiji Ozawa's customary place in a work that has long been an Ozawa specialty.

Frühbeck has become a favorite BSO guest conductor in the short span of two years, but he has some idiosyncratic -- not to say eccentric -- ideas about Mahler. They garnished the First Symphony in his 2000 Tanglewood debut, and they were much in evidence again Friday in the Second.

With more rehearsal time, the BSO might have overcome its vacation fingers and unlearned its Ozawa habits.

Alternatively, Ozawa, who will make his only appearances of the season in his farewell concerts as director next weekend, might have whipped a performance into shape by dint of his generalship and familiarity.

Instead, a potentially interesting performance under Frühbeck fell victim to haphazard playing and lurches of emphasis into hills and valleys, with not much connection between.

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The Spanish-German conductor offered an unusually volatile conception of Mahler's ascent to heaven by way of funeral marches, pastoral touches, mordant humor and a thundering choral conclusion. Strongly rhythmic passages -- the opening statement by the cellos and basses, for example -- became jagged, while the gentler moments wanted to sigh with pleasure.

Tempos plunged ahead or hurried into retreat.

This is a legitimate approach to Mahler, who is not the most even-tempered composer and who, in any event, litters his scores with instructions to pull ahead and back. Indeed, there were effective moments: the gentle lilt at the opening of the second movement, for instance, and contralto Sara Mingardo's luminous rendition of the "Urlicht" ("Primal Light") movement, which enjoyed an affecting blend of childlike simplicity and devotional urgency.

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Soprano Elizabeth Futral's appeal to God, by contrast, rose perhaps a bit too strongly out of the choral-orchestral backdrop. But John Oliver's Tanglewood Festival Chorus, 120 strong and a master of this sort of thing, delivered a mighty affirmation that what has perished shall rise again.

Elsewhere, the evening was marred by blown instrumental solos, raw sound, one section of the orchestra not seeming to know what the others were doing, and an all-pervasive feeling of uncertainty. The big climaxes, especially the two leading up to the choral entry, degenerated into racket.

The result was a performance that made more sense in its parts than in sum. It seemed a sure way to show off what Ozawa might have done.

In the prelude concert, a reduced festival chorus showed its versatility in a different kind of repertoire, much of it a cappella.

Two pieces by Pizzetti for six-part chorus, on texts from Sappho, provided a workout in complex counterpoint, while seven songs by Poulenc called for a lighthearted Gallic touch. Three madrigals by Martin Amlin, one of the group's pianists (the other is Frank Corliss), burdened early English texts with ornate settings.

Manna came in the opening and closing selections, six holy songs by Wolf and a madrigal by Faure that suggested Brahms' "Liebeslieder" Waltzes in its rolling rhythm and praises of the pleasures and pains of love. Oliver and his singers reveled in all of it.