Mozart, Mahler, Nelsons, Ax, Morley, and the BSO Fill the Hall at Tanglewood
- S. Lachterman
- Jul 15
- 4 min read
Updated: Jul 17
Saturday, July 11,2026
The Boston Symphony Orchestra
Tanglewood Music Festival Koussevitzky Music Shed
Andris Nelsons, conductor
Emanuel Ax, piano
Erin Morley, soprano
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Piano Concerto No. 25 in C, K. 503
Allegro maestoso
Andante
[Allegretto]
Franz Schubert/Arranged by Liszt, Ständchen (“Serenade”), S. 560, #7 from Schwanengesang
Gustav Mahler, Symphony No. 4 in G
Bedächtig. Nicht eilen [Deliberatly, do not hurry]
In gemächlicher Bewegung, ohne Hast [with easygoing motion without haste]
Ruhevoll, Poco Adagio [Serene, somewhat slow]
Sehr behaglich [Very comfortably]
Mozart, Mahler, Nelsons, Ax, Morley, and the BSO Fill the Hall
July 11, 2026
If you haven’t already heard, there’s a tempest over Boston Symphony Orchestra’s President and CEO Chad Smith’s dismissal of Andris Nelsons as the BSO’s music director. The New York Times covered the controversy recently here.
The usual lament involves tired repertory, declining sales, and the failure to fill programs with newer works allegedly more likely to interest future audiences.
If arts leaders believe that heavier doses of what’s current, ipso facto, should replace the presumed stale “canon,” then we risk casting aside what defines the genre as classical. Certain voices of the past have inspired and nurtured civilizations for centuries, providing some proof that humanity survives egregious political ruptures, societal desiccation, and mendacity.
I have been and always will be a staunch supporter of new music and of exposing audiences to fresh musical voices. There is currently a burgeoning body of new work that deserves to be heard now. Like the older classics, some of it will survive, and some will not. However, I believe that certain music possesses ineffable qualities, conveying “truths” that hold regardless of social and historical contexts. Such works pass the test of time and should be nurtured with each performance.
The Shed was largely full, and the performers were at their best. The programmatic mix of Mozart and Mahler has proven engaging in past years. Mozart’s K. 503 is, perhaps, the peak of his concerto oeuvre, heroically inspiring in its optimism and high spirits while acknowledging the occasional dark side; Mahler’s Fourth Symphony is short and sunny enough to distract us from our current world and make us believe, even for an afternoon, that nature can heal our condition.
It was clear that the crowd loved the concert presented this evening by the BSO, Nelsons, and Emanuel Ax. The BSO members wore red rose boutonnieres as a gesture of solidarity with Nelsons in the wake of his dismissal.
Mr. Ax chose a heroic work, performed tonight with a full-throated ensemble: Mozart’s K. 503 in C major. It is a titan of a work, and might be appropriately termed the “Jupiter Piano Concerto.” It has that irresistible blend of grandeur and complexity that continues to challenge musicians and win audiences more than two centuries later.
In spite of its simple C-major triadic gestures, the work makes surprising technical demands; its persistent straddling of major and minor tonalities checks the C-major tutti. With its clear contrasts of themes, this concerto stands shoulder-to-shoulder with Beethoven’s style. The contrast of sharp black-and-white outlines with the filigree of soft, subtle tonal shading suggests the “sculptures” that illustrated many books of the time, with etchings and shadings suggesting a chiaroscuro of light and dark. The development section takes the second theme—which to some is reminiscent of “La Marseillaise”—and tosses it about canonically in a multitude of keys.
Mr. Ax chose the cadenza by French pianist and composer Robert Casadesus, which begins by reiterating the piano’s opening passage. One had to admire the BSO wind players, who gently supported the piano lines, and created new colors along the way. The second movement, stately and intimate, with a glowing lyricism, provided a pause before the jocund finale. This final rondo, with its playful main theme, repeats the major-minor blending from before and, ultimately, in its lead-up to the cadenza, explores new and different harmonic nuances. Mr. Ax performed the many fast two-handed runs with ease and confidence.

After the concerto, which deserved a rousing ovation, Mr. Ax played, to perfection, Franz Liszt’s echo inflected arrangement of Schubert’s poignant Serenade.
The second half featured Mahler’s Fourth Symphony, with Met star Erin Morley singing the final movement. The opening sleigh bells allowed us to forget some of this summer’s heat. Mahler deftly shows his coloristic genius in a way that captures a chamber ensemble’s intimacy. Some extraordinary colors abound, including, in the second movement, a violin tuned a whole step higher—scordatura—lending a piercing, spectral sound. A tritone (the “devil’s interval”) lurks at the tune’s center and then permeates the opening section. Mahler indicates “Wie eine Fiedel,” “like a fiddle,” suggesting an off-pitch folk instrument.
However, my seat was far from perfect, and I perceived a much heavier dose of horns than was probably intended, or than would have been heard in a seat with a more balanced acoustic. I must say that the principal horn, Richard Sebring, was brilliant throughout; and if my seat might have boosted his solos, I could hardly mind. Perhaps upstaging the “devil’s” prickly violin part was a moral imperative!

The final movement is a strophic song setting of Mahler’s song, Das himmlische Leben, whose text derives from Des Knaben Wunderhorn. A child’s painting of “the heavenly life” features saints, Jesus, and Herod amid Eden-like surroundings. The final line of each stanza stands alone in a movingly solemn reflection. Ms. Morley, intending to convey a child’s voice, used an appropriately underplayed delivery. The entire work comes and goes like a magical dream.
The concert was as good as it gets, and the audience’s approbation was not merely for the musicianship of each, but for the convincing artistic interchange that was clearly manifest.


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