Friday evening at a packed Symphony Hall, Boston heard Mahler’s Eighth Symphony for the first time since 2004. This wasn’t Andris Nelsons’s first Eighth since becoming the BSO’s music director—he led a 2015 Tanglewood Music Center Orchestra performance in the Berkshires—but the event marked his first attempt at marshaling the huge instrumental and choral forces Mahler called for at an indoor venue. In a letter to Willem Mengelberg describing the Eighth, Mahler wrote, “Try to describe the whole universe beginning to ring and resound. These are no longer human voices but planets and suns revolving.” Symphony Hall rang and resounded Friday; I think Mahler would have been pleased.
The Eighth got the nickname “Symphony of a Thousand” from the promoter of its 1910 Munich premiere, where, in the city’s spacious new Musik-Festhalle, there were indeed some 1000 performers on stage, about 850 of them singers. Nowadays, a double chorus of 200 adults, a children’s choir of 50, eight soloists, and an orchestra of 120 would be more typical. Even so, it’s a special-occasion piece; you can understand why the BSO didn’t debut it till 1972, and why this weekend’s three performances are just the orchestra’s fifth, sixth, and seventh in Symphony Hall.
The form and content are also special, and an issue for some. Mahler wrote his Eighth in two parts rather than the usual four (or five, or six) movements. Part one, running just under a half-hour, sets the ninth-century Pentecostal hymn “Veni, Creator Spiritus.” Part two, running just under an hour, sets the final scene of Goethe’s Faust. Mahler likely heard “Veni, Creator Spiritus” at his baptism into the Roman Catholic faith in 1897, and he knew sections of Goethe’s 12,000-line epic―the only version of Faust in which Faust is saved―by heart, including perhaps the 270 lines he set. Both parts are, like the finale of his Resurrection Symphony, centered in E-flat major, with excursions into E major, the heavenly key in which his Fourth Symphony concludes. With the exception of the ten-minute orchestral prelude to part two, the piece runs straight through; Mahler identified it as a symphony from the start, but to ears accustomed to Nos. 1–7, 9, and even Das Lied von der Erde, it seems more like a massive oratorio. He called the Eighth his “gift to the entire nation,” and the premiere, which he conducted, certainly constituted his greatest triumph. For audiences unfamiliar with the texts, however, the piece can be a challenge. Neither texts nor translations appear in the BSO’s printed program; the supertitle translations of the Latin and the German are helpful up to a point, but these didn’t disclose who’s singing what and hardly did Goethe justice.
As was the case for the 2004 performances under James Levine, the BSO removed several rows of seats near the Symphony Hall stage, allowing for an orchestra of 124, the 135 members of James Burton’s Tanglewood Festival Chorus, and seven soloists ranged in front of the orchestra: sopranos Latonia Moore and Christine Goerke, mezzos Mihoko Fujimura and Gerhild Romberger, tenor Andreas Schager, baritone Michael Nagy, and bass-baritone Ryan Speedo Green. (Both Goerke and Fujimura had sung in Nelsons’s Tanglewood performance.) Thirty-two boys from the St. Paul’s Choir School, directed by Brandon Straub, occupied that part of the first balcony left nearest the stage. [BSO gave up 100 seats] The eighth soloist, Ying Fang, whose Mater Gloriosa sings only toward the end of part two, eventually turned up in the second balcony right, along with the offstage trumpets and trombones Mahler calls for in the closing pages.
I was intrigued by the modest choral numbers. In Munich, Mahler wanted some 500 adult singers to balance an orchestra of about 175. Here the adult double chorus was barely bigger than the orchestra. In Munich, too, the size of the hall allowed Mahler to station the adult choruses antiphonally. At Symphony Hall there was no sense of separation, and though the adult choruses managed to assert themselves for the most part, there were times when the orchestra was too enthusiastic, and times when there simply were not enough children’s voices.
The Eighth doesn’t bother with introductions. It begins with an ff E-flat organ pedal and manual chord followed by the choruses’ ff “Veni, Creator Spiritus” in bar two. Observing Mahler’s initial Allegro impetuoso tempo indication, Nelsons set off at an ebullient march—much like Seiji Ozawa in his 1980 BSO recording—before perceptibly relaxing, again as Mahler directed, for the soloists’ entrance at “Imple superna gratia.” The interplay of the soloists’ appeal to the Holy Spirit for divine grace and eternal strength wasn’t always ideally balanced—Moore and Schager tended to dominate at the top—but their anguish was appropriate. The orchestra, when it intervened, swirled in dark currents; Associate Concertmaster Alexander’s sinister solo harked back to Freund Hein’s hijinks in the scherzo of the Fourth.
Nelsons surged forward from “Firmans virtute perpeti” before solos from Richard Sebring (horn) and Thomas Rolfs (trumpet) led to part one’s breakthrough moment, an explosive choral “Accende lumen sensibus” full of light. “Hostem repellas” did indeed repel the enemy (in Mahler’s mind surely materialism), setting up the polyphonic pyrotechnics of the “Ductore previo” double fugue, the TFC here pellucid in its enunciation. The recapitulatory return of “Veni, Creator Spiritus” seemed to materialize out of nowhere; so did the St. Paul’s Choir School entrance for the “Gloria,” where Moore, Goerke, and the TFC sopranos were resplendent in their stratospheric high C’s. Mahler directs the closing pages to “press forward somewhat to the end”; Nelsons did that without loss of clarity.
At the Munich premiere, it was reported, Mahler stepped onto the podium at 7:45 p.m. and part one ended at 8:15. It’s not clear that the performance started at once; his arrival set off tumultuous applause and he took several bows, so the movement probably ran closer to 25 minutes than 30. Nelsons’s 23 was in line with what most conductors take; it had weight and shape as well as ebb and flow.
Following part one in Munch, Mahler took five minutes to compose himself on the podium before diving into part two. Ozawa’s 1972 Tanglewood premiere had an intermission; subsequently Ozawa tended to play the Eighth without one. Levine took a break in 2004 and 2005, and so did Nelsons in 2015. This weekend’s concerts are being presented without intermission, which I think is the better choice. Part one elicited a short burst of applause; it’s hard to think the premiere audience didn’t applaud as well. Nelsons sat in his chair for just two minutes before resuming.
Part two, headed “Mountain Gorges, Forests, Cliffs, Wilderness,” is, like the Fourth’s slow movement, marked Poco Adagio—meaning, one supposes, not “too” Adagio. Nelsons’s wasn’t. The orchestra’s spooky pizzicato chorale, an E-flat-minor agony in the garden spiked with glints of E-flat-major light, seemed to look ahead to Mahler’s last three symphonies, particularly Das Lied von der Erde. After a premature breakout by the flutes, the hushed chorus of holy anchorites entered. Nelsons underlined their “Ehren geweihten Ort, / Heiligen Liebeshort” as if to say we’d already arrived at a “holy sanctuary of love.”
What follows in part two is a kind of symphonic song cycle. Nagy’s resonant Pater Ecstaticus bespoke divine ecstasy and eternal rapture. An equally animated Green managed Pater Profundus’s unnerving leaps in his characterization of the Romantic sublime without having quite the vocal depth to offset the orchestra’s weight. The St. Paul angels, recalling their cheeky counterparts from Mahler’s Third, waltzed to “Jene Rosen” as they rejoiced in having snatched Faust’s soul from Mephistopheles; First Velinzon’s violin danced once more. A soberly consoling Fujimura reminded us that only divine love can resolve humankind’s dual nature; even as she finished, Nelsons had the excitable younger angels racing away again. Schager’s magisterial heldentenor of a Doctor Marianus lit up part two the way “Accende lumen sensibus” had kindled part one. Accompanied by Sebring’s solo horn, his “Höchste Herrscherin der Welt” invocation of the Virgin rose to heaven. Then Blaise Déjardin’s solo cello introduced a “Jungfrau” that rose even higher.
Moore as the Magna Peccatrix (the sinful woman who bathed Christ’s feet with her tears), Fujimura as the Mulier Samaritana (the Samaritan woman who gave Christ water from a well), and Romberger as Maria Ægyptiaca (the patron saint of penitents) were ardent and persuasive, individually and as a trio, in a sequence that can sag but didn’t here. “Er überwächst uns schon” did need more children’s voices, but Goerke, as the penitent named Gretchen, was in total command, a kind of composed Brünnhilde. As her “Vom edlen Geisterchor umgeben” died away into a tender vision of Faust’s “neue Tag,” the horns sounded a version of the “Ewig” motif that Brünnhilde sings in Siegfried and that Mahler borrowed for his Resurrection Symphony. Fang floated into the second balcony and, over harp, celesta, harmonium, and Lorna McGhee’s solo flute, wafted a serene, celestial “Komm” out over the entire hall, as if in invitation. Schager scaled new heights with his “Bleibe gnädig”; twinkling celesta introduced the TFC’s hushed “Alles Vergängliche.” As in part one, Mahler asks the conductor to press forward to the end, but here Nelsons luxuriated without wallowing. The positioning of the offstage brass—four trumpets and three trombones—in the second balcony was perfect; they blazed forth with clear separation.
Nelsons’s 59 minutes for part two, a tad longer than the average, was well judged, with thoughtful dynamic contrasts and no gray areas. The knock against the Eighth is that it doesn’t sound like “real” Mahler, but this performance certainly did. Friday’s audience was rapt; I heard hardly a single cough, and at the end, Symphony Hall reverberated with thunderbolts of applause.
YouTube Excerpts:
Veni Creator spiritus opening
Ying Fan as the Mater Gloriosa
Andreas Schager performs Blicket auf aria
See related article HERE
Jeffrey Gantz has been writing about music, dance, theater, art, film, and books for the past 45 years, first for the Boston Phoenix and currently for the Boston Globe.
Below: Photos by Winslow Townson
Mr Nelsons led the Eight in the Leipzig Mahler Festival in May 2023. With the Gewandhaus Orchestra, of course.
Comment by Robert Howe — November 3, 2024 at 4:02 pm
Well, I wasn’t here for Seiji’s renditions at Symphony Hall. That was in 1980. As far as Levine is concerned, I was in a control room, not the Hall itself. But I know for a fact that the Levine soloists were not miked for the Hall. Nor were they for Ben Zander’s performances. I cannot firmly recall the stage layout for the Levine concerts. But I thought the soloists were directly in front of the soloists (not at the front of the stage) and the children’s chorus was on stage as well. I don’t think the TFC was a large as a result.
As far as Nelsons is concerned, I am convinced that the soloists were not miked, and they certainly did not need to be. But I heard about this observation before I attended Sunday by someone whose ears I trust. Normally I would ask Nick Squire directly, but (congratulations Nick!) he is on paternity leave. But as a firm rule, loudspeakers are not utilized at BSO concerts unless there is a narrator. Perhaps someone from BSO management can weigh in here.
Concerning the children’s chorus, where to park them is really a tough call. If you put them on stage, who goes off? Or how many more (prime!) seats are sacrificed? And in a strange way, this informs the other question: if the soloists were miked, why wouldn’t you mike the children’s chorus?
Let me echo Mr. Erlich’s 5. It was wonderful to have this score performed live. And I was doubly glad that concertgoers filled the hall.
Comment by Brian Bell — October 15, 2024 at 8:50 am
I attended the Sunday matinee, main floor, row KK, center main floor, and have several thoughts:
1. The children’s chorus, as reported by several others above, was, unfortunately often unclear if not exactly inaudible. This was, sadly, a major and detrimental miscalculation. Brian Bell, please clarify – didn’t both Seiji and Levine have the children’s chorus on stage? That position would certainly allow its important contributions to be more directly projected into the audience.
2. I concur that Ying Fang was outstanding, the most memorable of all the soloists. I’ve never heard her part more gloriously sung, and I’ve heard and participated in many Mahler 8 performances.
3. Were the soloists “miked?” Others around me agreed this occurred. If so, why? Symphony Hall is world-renowned for its superb acoustics and I don’t believe it should be necessary to do so. I know for a fact this artificial amplification was not used in Seiji’s performances, and Brian Bell, did that occur with Levine’s performances? From my seats within SH for Levine’s superb performances, I have no recollection of this happening.
4. A real “hero” of these Nelsons performances was the superb contributions of the Tanglewood Festival Chorus. It was in top form, clearly expertly prepared by James Burton. Bravi! The opening of Part II, with its choral and orchestral evocations of craggy landscapes and wild animals, was especially memorable. The chorus’s briefly sustained short notes allowed their actual pitches to be discerned. Often, only minute choral “punctuations” are heard in this section. Thank you, Mr. Burton and TFC, for this special and effective choral color, wonderful to hear!
5. Hearing this remarkable work “live,” as opposed to hearing it on a recording, no matter how skillfully inscribed, is essential to fully appreciating this wonderful music. Thank you. BSO, for allowing us this opportunity to once again bask in Mahler’s great ocean of sound and space.
Comment by John W. Ehrlich — October 13, 2024 at 11:16 am
I was there both Saturday and Sunday. I was also lucky to listen Nelsons with the Gewandhaus Orchestra last year during their Mahler festival.
Overall, solid performance. Symphony Hall, for all it’s renowned acoustics and its incredible organ is really not a great venue for this symphony, having such a small stage.
On Saturday I left ecstatic but with two critiques: the tenor and the children’s chorus. Sunday was very similar.
The tenor was extremely loud in many passages, not matching the dynamics of the rest of the ensemble. And when he had to sing with the children, he effectively erased them.
The children were almost inaudible most of the time. It really bothered me to be honest. There are moments where the children carry the most important passages and they were just barely there. I felt bad for them. Both Saturday and Sunday were pretty bad. (Sunday was slightly better but also I was seating in the orchestra level).
The best part of the performances was Goerke and Fang. Goerke delivered a moving and touching performance, committed to the meaning of the text. I left obsessed with her silent performance, listening to the Mater Gloriosa sing to her. It was captivating. You could see her cry even in the distance.
The orchestra and Nelsons conducting were very good. Intense, the sound was well layered and clear. I could hear and enjoy all the different colors of the orchestra. The brass in the finale were superb.
If I compare the two BSO performances with the one in Leipzig I saw last year, I would say the BSO’s ones felt like a “work in progress”. Mostly because of the venue issues, the boys choir, and the dynamics issues with the soloists.
Comment by Carlos Sainz — October 10, 2024 at 12:34 am
@ Zach- You missed the harmonium player Heinrich Christensen
Comment by Lee — October 9, 2024 at 9:26 pm
The Sunday afternoon concert was exhilarating. I was in second balcony right, near the glorious offstage brass and the celestial Ying Fang. I agree with Mr. Pearson and the other positive reviewers. We were lucky to be there.
Comment by Alessandra Kingsford — October 9, 2024 at 5:40 pm
@Moby Pearson, I’d suggest taking the time to really listen to some exceptional performances, like Tennstedt’s Mahler 8, or even past BSO performances from decades ago. Then, let me know if you notice any difference. The BSO today (not before) is appreciated mostly by those who may have listened to limited classical music recordings and think that simply having a large orchestra makes it magnificent.
By the way, I’ve been called “QC” all the time, but it’s not exactly fair to attack someone’s name when you disagree with their opinion. This also sheds light on why you believe the BSO is performing well—you likely have a narrow view of the world and assume that what little you know is the best.
Comment by QC — October 9, 2024 at 2:22 pm
For a work whose nickname alludes to the number of performers, I am especially curious to know exactly how many performers were in the hall for this performance. I list below three different counts, and I would like to know if anyone has any comment on which count might be closest to the correct count.
According to this review, there were (124 orchestra) + (135 chorus) + (32 boys choir) + (8 vocal soloists) + (7 offstage brass) + (2 conductors – Nelsons and Straub) = 308 performers in the hall.
Brian McCreath, in the CRB broadcast, reported the number of performers to be 300, if I remember correctly.
According to my count of Winslow Townson’s photos, there were (110 orchestra*) + (135 chorus) + (30 boys choir) + (8 vocal soloists) + (7 offstage brass) + (2 conductors) = 292 performers in the hall.
*The second row of the bass section is partially obscured in the photo by the right balcony; I counted four bass players in that row but am not sure of that count. Hidden under the left balcony are two players, of the organ and the piano.
Comment by Zach — October 9, 2024 at 12:22 pm
@Brian – that’s right! Great memory you’ve got there. Thank you!
Comment by Dalyn A Miller — October 9, 2024 at 12:08 pm
Dalyn,
No, there was definitely two performances at Symphony Hall, Tuesday March 9th, and Saturday March 13th, 1999 at Symphony Hall.
Comment by Brian Bell — October 9, 2024 at 10:58 am
I attended the Sunday matinee. At the end there was an extended standing ovation (11 or 12 minutes). I don’t remember a more enthusiastic response to a Boston Symphony concert that I attended. I personally found it to be one of the most boring Boston Symphony concerts that I attended. I don’t know how much of this was due to the performance and how much to the work itself. I can’t recall ever hearing mahler’s 8th before; therefore I can’t compare this performance to others. Were the balances off between sections at times? Perhaps. Were the tempos always the best? Maybe not.In regard to the choral parts, the childrens’chorus was inaudible most of the time. I believe that Mahler wanted two adult choruses interacting antiphonally, while we only got one large chorus. The singers sang well and the musicians are capable. What did the audience enjoy so much? I believe much of their excitement came from the size of the performance. There were definitely a lot of musicians and singers on stage. However, bigger isn’t always better. The 23 minutes of part one were a decent orchestral version of a Christian text. It built up to a satisfying climax. However, part 2 was another story. It began with a moody instrumental section which was ok, but seemed to drag a bit. Later there was another short instrumental section highlighting the harps, which was enjoyable. However about 3/4 of part two was vocally centered. I haven’t read Goethe’s Faust. In the program the singers are assigned character names. I had no idea who Magda Peccatrix, Doctor Marianus and Pater ecstaticus were. They weren’t identified on the screen anyhow. The words made almost no sense, just a bunch of religious/mystical gibberish. I take it that Faust was asking for his sins to be forgiven and the Virgin Mary, the eternal feminine, interceded for him. The words were actually distracting. What about the music? Melodies? What melodies? Almost all the singing felt like recitative. Part two felt very fragmentary. Singers would alternately sing meaningless words, interspersed with choral segments. Some say that the work is more of an oratorio than a symphony. If so, I don’t think that it is a particularly good oratorio. I would describe part 2, which was most of the “symphony,” as a mediocre choral work/bad short opera.
Comment by Bennett — October 8, 2024 at 5:58 pm
@Brian Bell – Thank you so much for sharing that link. I had no idea that the performance lived online anywhere. It will be quite thrilling to listen to it again… And again. I’m saving it for one evening, after work, in order to be able to enjoy it without distraction. I’ve been racking my brain trying to remember whether or not we did two performances at Symphony Hall or only the one. I believe it was only the one performance, and then we took it to Carnegie the following January or February.
Comment by Dalyn A. Miller — October 8, 2024 at 1:40 pm
I imagine that the fine singers of the Tanglewood Festival Chorus, living with 21st century hygiene, medicine and diets, might well make as big of a sound as the hundreds who were in Mahler’s chorus in Munich. Not to mention the brilliant, super-live acoustics of Symphony Hall, unequalled anywhere. I was privileged to attend the Sunday performance – I made a trip from New York to do so – and the sheer sound was thrilling. I also attended Nelsons’s 2023 performance in Leipzig, part of a complete cycle of the symphonies in which many orchestras participated. That cycle was uneven, but there were some fine performances (the sixth by Bychkov and the Czech Philharmonic, the 7th by Daniel Harding and one of the Munich orchestras). The Leipzig eighth was one of the cycle highlights, yet the Boston performance seemed to take off where the former one ended – not to mention a better orchestra and hall in Boston.
Comment by Paul H Forman — October 8, 2024 at 10:45 am
QC, you should identify yourself like everyone else and not hide behind those initials, which for all I know could stand for Quintessential Carper. All of the comments before yours have been praiseworthy of a very uplifting event, and I concur with every one of them, having attended yesterday’s matinee. I am not interested in where the BSO rates world wide, just that the performance of the 8th was overall magnificent, irregardless of the valid criticisms mentioned so far. The excitement leaving the hall was tangible. That’s what great music performed at such a high level is supposed to do.
Comment by Moby Pearson — October 7, 2024 at 9:49 pm
Apparently BSO is NOT delivering music as good as before. I totally understand that Mahler 8 is hard to interpret, but this should not be an issue for an orchestra at the level of BSO. It is hard to imagine, that BSO delivers Mahler 8 in a version with almost no children’s chorus, and it seems audiences buy it and think it is fine. Maybe the audience has been aware that BSO is not anymore one of the best in the world, so that more tolerance is given. The brass is coarse. The part 1 was even like not practicing and everyone played their own. This shouldn’t be the quality of BSO.
Comment by QC — October 7, 2024 at 11:00 am
As one who played in the 1999 Zander Mahler 8th, and produced for NPR the broadcast of the Levine 2004 Mahler 8th, I looked forward to actually sitting in Symphony Hall and listening to the work (I was there Sunday). In very large part I wasn’t disappointed, as it truly is a piece that needs to be experienced aurally rather than just listened to.
The orchestra throughout was absolutely magnificent, the choruses did themselves proud, and Ying Fang’s Mater gloriosa was astonishingly beautiful. If there has been a better rendition of her part, on or off recordings, I have not heard it.
For the most part, Nelsons was wonderful, but with the notable exception of the beginning of Part Two, he let the dynamics go much larger than marked. Part One was not nearly as soft as it should be in many spots, so that the truly big spots lost their effect. The soloists (as a result?) were invariably loud when Mahler calls for much less. The expression “park and bark” unfortunately came to mind.
By the way, the 1999 Zander performance (mislabeled on the Zander Media Center website as 2003) was edited and broadcast, and can be heard at https://www.benjaminzander.org/collection/mahler-and-zander/?content=mahler-symphony-no-8.
I dare say, listening to it again, the soloists, as a rule, are much better than what I heard yesterday, and the dynamics by all are far closer to what Mahler requested.
Comment by Brian Bell — October 7, 2024 at 9:54 am
I was the Marketing and PR Director for the Boston Philharmonic when we did the 8 at Symphony Hall in 1999 and again at Carnegie Hall in 2000. What a surreal experience that was; I often think back on it fondly. That was the last time I had experienced the Mahler 8 live. (Incidentally, I think you would be hard pressed to find a more suitable conductor than Benjamin Zander to lead the piece). My neighbor and I attended this afternoon‘s performance of the BSO and I was delighted to see the hall sold out, and absolutely blown away by the performance. True classical music lovers owe it to themselves to see it at least once in their life. It is a truly transformative piece. I’m seeing it again at the Mahler Festival in Amsterdam in May. I am very much looking forward to that performance as well.
Comment by Dalyn A Miller — October 6, 2024 at 8:35 pm
Truly one of the transcendent musical experiences of my life. I could carp about one or two details, but…what’s the point after such a magnificent concert. I attended on Sunday afternoon.
Comment by Rob Leith — October 6, 2024 at 6:45 pm
We attended the Saturday night concert, and my posted comments follow the superb “related” article by Mr. Gantz. Suffice it to say, the performance was more than memorable. As I indicated in my comments, what particularly pleased me was Maestro Nelsons allowing the excellent organist, Dexter Kennedy, to employ the considerable resources of his instrument to full effect. The huge 32 foot ranks caused appropriate trembling of the floor beneath one’s feet and the upper work soared above even the most intense orchestral climaxes. I am thankful for the effective collaboration of organist and conductor, and also to Foley-Baker, Inc. who performed an extensive restoration of the Aeolian Skinner organ in 2003- BRAVO to all of them!
Comment by Jonathan Kleefield,MD — October 6, 2024 at 1:35 pm
As I remember the 2004 Levine performance. It was a full intermission. — it was Levine’s Gala Inaugural Concert.
Comment by Dennis Milford — October 6, 2024 at 12:23 pm
I was there Friday. Stupendous! My only previous Mahler 8 was in 1999 with Ben Zander and the BPO. (He took a several minute rest between the parts.) The fellow sitting next to me had flown in from Chicago for the performance and felt he was well rewarded. (Needing more of an organ and chorus fix, he was spending the night in Boston and flying on to London for today’s Royal Albert Hall concert featuring the Saint-Saëns Organ Symphony and Orff’s Carmina Burana!)
Comment by David Derow — October 6, 2024 at 11:41 am
What a pleasure to read such a detailed review, nearly a lost art today. Mahler’s eighth is such a monumental human achievement and a performance at the highest level such as this is surely deserving of this attention
Comment by SCOTT E KREGER — October 6, 2024 at 9:26 am
Question: “Levine took a break in 2004 and 2005, and so did Nelsons in 2015.”
Does *break* mean a proper intermission or just a pause of a few minutes?
Comment by Anthony — October 5, 2024 at 6:03 pm
I enjoyed the performance and the review. Andris Nelsons was unusually emotional. The concertmaster appeared to be Alexander Velinzon, not Nathan Cole.
Comment by michael margolies — October 5, 2024 at 5:43 pm