|
by Yoav Talmi
November 2, 2002
When asked by La Scena Musicale to share
my view with readers about a work of my choice, I chose Mahler's Second
Symphony almost instinctively. My forthcoming performances of this giant
work in November with the Quebec Symphony Orchestra makes this choice
all the more relevant. I "lived" intimately with this work for the past
25 years -- but I'm still totally obsessed with the music every time I
conduct it. When I conducted this symphony with the Munich Philharmonic
in 1980, there were moments in the Finale where -- during the softest
passages -- I was afraid to move a finger, for fear I might disturb the
inspiration of the moment.
Mahler himself had a special love for
his Second Symphony and conducted it thirteen times! He chose it for
his memorable farewell concert in Vienna to mark the end of his ten-year
reign as director of the Vienna Opera. This was also the first of his
symphonies that he performed in America (in New York in 1908) and the
first of his own works that he conducted in Paris in 1910 (saying he
could never be accepted in that city until there was a performance of
the Second Symphony).
Mahler – the Composer versus the
Conductor
How ironic it is that Mahler, who today
enjoys unprecedented popularity all over the world, found such little
critical support during his lifetime. He was considered one of the
greatest conductors of his time, but as a composer, however, he was
regarded mostly as a pretentious failure -- not only during his lifetime
but also for many years after his death. Yet, like Bruckner, he remained
convinced that his "time would come." For almost 50 years after his
death, his music seemed to go nowhere and was seldom performed. Now,
thanks to the unwavering support of such conductors as Bruno Walter,
Otto Klemperer, Jascha Horenstein, John Barbirolli, and later Leonard
Bernstein, Mahler's music is recognized as the height of the
Austro-German symphonic tradition and the great summation of the late
Romantic epoch.
At the same time, Mahler undoubtedly
opened the gates for the music of the twentieth century. He had a
profound influence on composers such as Schoenberg, Shostakovich and
Bernstein, who found in his music powerful expression of hope and faith
along with doubts, fears and anguish. There is no question, also, that
many of the great film composers of the past 30 years were strongly
influenced and inspired by the sounds Mahler created in the Second
Symphony's Finale.
Why the early rejection?
Musicologists explained the early
rejection of the Second Symphony as a result of Mahler's new harmonies.
Never before had these been found in music. He overstepped the
boundaries of what was considered "beautiful." Music critics and
concertgoers found his music too long, too complicated, too bombastic,
too neurotic, overly melancholy, and so on. Leonard Bernstein, who led
the Mahler revival of the 1960s, claimed that "There was something much
deeper in the rejection of Mahler's music." He suggested that "Mahler's
music simply hit too close to home, touched too deeply on people's
concerns and their fears about life and death. It simply was too true --
telling something too dreadful to hear."
Fortunately, the above elements, which
were so strongly rejected by the musical establishment of Mahler's day,
are now passionately embraced by new generations of listeners. His
genius lies in his unique ability to draw together such wildly
contrasting elements as intense post-Wagner/Strauss/Bruckner harmonies,
Austrian peasant music, Jewish childhood motifs, children's innocence,
and a distressing fascination with death. He moulds all of them into
a convincing and compelling musical structure.
A fascinating historical background
The story of how Mahler created the
Resurrection Symphony (as it is also known) is one of the most
fascinating in the history of music, and is indirectly but poignantly
connected to Hans von Bülow -- the greatest German conductor of his
time. It is hard to imagine today that a work as powerfully impressive
as Mahler's Second Symphony could have had such a painful and prolonged
birth, yet more than six years passed between his initial sketches of
the first movement and the completion of the vast Finale. Mahler was
only twenty-eight in 1888, when he began to toy with the idea for this
symphony. The opening movement was soon completed, but for the next five
years it existed independently as "Todtenfeier" (Funeral Ceremony).
Three years later, in 1891, Mahler was
appointed conductor of the Hamburg Opera and soon attracted the
attention of Hans von Bülow, the doyen of German music and a lifelong
champion of new music. Von Bülow conducted the first performances of
Tristan und Isolde, became Brahms's preferred interpreter, and
"discovered" Richard Strauss. Mahler was hoping that von Bülow would
similarly support him as a composer. He called on him in order to give a
piano rendition of the Second Symphony's first movement. After a few
minutes at the piano, he turned around to see von Bülow, with a long
face, covering his ears.
"If what I have heard is music," said the
conductor, "I understand nothing about music!" He upped his disapproval
by adding: "Compared with this, Tristan and Isolde is a Haydn symphony."
Devastated by von Bülow's opinion, Mahler
wrote Richard Strauss, saying that after his experience with von Bülow
he was leaving his scores in his desk. "You have not gone through
anything like this and cannot understand that one begins to lose faith,"
wrote Mahler. Evidently von Bülow's rejection was deeply wounding,
especially coming from a man the young Mahler so admired.
Three years passed before Mahler could
overcome his mental block and resume work on the Second Symphony. He
completed the second movement, Andante in A-flat, followed by the third,
the Scherzo, based on his song "Des Antonius von Padua Fischpredigt". To
the three existing movements he added another of his songs, "Urlicht,"
for contralto voice and orchestra. It was to serve as an introduction to
the final movement.
Mahler made many attempts to continue
with the Finale, but could make no progress. Then in February 1894 Hans
von Bülow died. Mahler attended his memorial service and as he described
later, he felt a sense of a shock: "The choir, in the organ-loft, sang
the "Resurrection" chorale [by Klopstock]. It was like a flash of
lightning, and everything became plain and clear in my mind!" On his
return home, he immediately sat down and began the first sketches for
the Finale based on the resurrection idea. The actual composition was
completed the following summer within three weeks.
Von Bülow's life and death were catalysts
in Mahler's creation of this symphony. If his cruel remarks about the
first movement weakened Mahler's confidence, his death effectively
removed the composer's mental block and brought him back to the creative
process.
A transcendent moment
Mahler conducted the premiere of his
Second Symphony in Berlin on December 13, 1895, under terribly
discouraging circumstances: First, in order to finance the concert, he
had to use his own funds and borrow money from friends. To fill the
hall, tickets were given away to musicians and students from the Berlin
conservatory. Some critics refused to attend the concert and to top it
all off, on the day of the concert Mahler was struck down by a massive
migraine. Nevertheless, he dragged himself to the podium and forced
himself to conduct. After the performance he collapsed in his dressing
room. What happened during the concert was a transcendent moment in
musical history. Those in the hall knew they were witnessing a
once-in-a-life-time experience of creation.
The Music
Within the limits of this article, I can
only touch briefly each of the 5 movements. I remember how utterly
overwhelmed I was with the first movement when I heard this symphony for
the very first time: It was a dark funeral march that could be compared
with those of Beethoven's Eroica or Wagner's Götterdämmerung, but far
more stormy and dramatic. Bruckner's shadow could be felt over the
opening bars, with their long initial tremolos that set the tensed
background for the first theme in the cellos and double basses. This
angry music is followed by a contrasting, lyrical second theme in the
violins, expressing yearning and longing. In a huge development section,
Mahler then repeats and modifies both the first and second themes,
introducing several new ones and hints of the ancient Dies Irae theme.
The entire orchestra ends the movement with a tremendous, shuddering
chromatic scale.
The second movement, Andante moderato in
A-flat major is a graceful intermezzo -- much needed after the mighty
and disturbing first movement. It always reminds me of the Schubert
Impromptu in A-flat for piano. It is an Austrian Ländler in the
tradition of Schubert and Bruckner, with a middle section that hints of
the drama still ahead. Particularly notable is the return of the first
theme, now played pizzicato by all the strings, creating a sound of folk
mandolins and guitars (Mahler even requested that the musicians hold
down the violins and violas like mandolins and pluck the strings with
their thumbs).
Two frightening tympani strokes announce
the opening of the third movement, the Scherzo. The music begins with an
endless spinning and twisting of its main theme. In typical Mahlerian
manner, this movement evokes a mixture of the grotesque, combined with
pessimism, humour, and tragedy. Mahler's program says this movement
portrays a distorted world. He deliberately uses shrill, distorted
sounds in the orchestra. Near the end, the tension builds to a frenzy as
the music depicts to a frightening degree the "scream of anguish" -- as
Mahler described it in the accompanying program. Winding down, the
movement ends, as did the first movement, with a chromatic scale, this
time leading to a final note on the tam-tam, and proceeding to the
fourth movement without a pause.
The fourth movement -- "Urlicht" ("Primal
Light") -- is one of the most beautiful and inspiring songs Mahler ever
wrote. The appearance, for the first time, of the human voice in
pianissimo and a low register is quite staggering. It is music of naïve
faith: "I am from God and will return to God," sings the contralto
soloist, who, said Mahler, "should sound like a child who imagines he is
in heaven." A solemn chorale, gently stated by the brass, asserts the
calm and innocent faith of childhood. Later, an expanded version of
this chorale will become the final movement's "Resurrection" theme.
The Finale
In the wild outburst of the Finale,
inspired by Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, Mahler too recalls earlier
episodes from previous movements. In this colossal movement he
introduces sounds and effects never before heard in symphonic music. The
use of a distant band placed in the wings on both sides, the huge
crescendos of the percussion section alone, the giant chorus that begins
singing in the softest dynamic ever written for choir -- all serve this
unique creation. Aufersteh'n ("Rise again, yes you shall rise again")
opens with the choir in a pianissimo, a cappella rendition in which
Mahler introduces his resurrection belief. The composer explained in his
program: "The earth quakes, the graves burst open, the dead arise and
stream on in endless procession. The trumpets of the apocalypse ring
out. All is quiet and blissful. There is no judgment, no sinners, no
just men, no great and no small; there is no punishment and no reward. A
feeling of overwhelming love fills us with blissful knowledge and
illuminates our existence."
The last pages of the Finale create an
unparalleled, powerful, and triumphant Coda. Mahler brings in the organ,
bells, tam-tams, ten horns, six trumpets, and two harps, and asks the
conductor and orchestra to end with the "greatest possible strength." It
is hard to imagine a more persuasive and magnificent conclusion to the
young Mahler's most ambitious work.
This mammoth work will serve as the
festive Centennial Concert of the Orchestre symphonique de Québec --
Canada's oldest orchestra. For this special event on November 6 and 7,
Mahler's Second Symphony will be performed with the largest combined
musical ensemble I have ever conducted: 115 musicians and a choir of 250
strong.
Recording data
There are close to 40 (!) different
recordings of this work still on the market, from 1951 until today.
Bruno Walter is the only conductor who attended the first performance
led by Mahler conducted in 1895 and therefore his recording (with the
New York Philharmonic and Maureen Forrester) is a 'must' for me. The
closest to my own taste is the passionate yet beautifully balanced
Claudio Abbado recording with the Chicago Symphony and Marilyn Horn. The
recording by Simon Rattle (Birmingham Symphony) with Janet Baker's
magnificent singing is warmly recommended as well.
Return to Table of Contents
|