A most powerful and unique work in the annals of music
Disadvantages:
Will not appeal to the cutesy - cutesy people
Recommend to potential buyers:
yes
Full review
GIVING TRAGEDY A VOICE
Has there ever been a more harrowing and soul tearing piece of music than Gustav Mahler's Sixth Symphony? Composed between the summer of 1903 and September 1904, the Sixth is the most bleak and pessimistic of Mahler's nine symphonies, underlining great personal feelings and a nightmarish look at the world that is 100 % authentic Mahler from beginning to end. Ironically, this work was written at a time of great happiness in the composer's life. In 1902 he had just married Alma Schindler, which was soon followed by the birth of their first daughter in 1904. He had just been appointed as the director of the Vienna Court Opera and was highly respected for his commitment in his artistry and was considered as one of the best operatic conductors of the day. So the utter hopelessness of the Sixth is quite at odds with his mood, proving that a piece of music does not always have to reflect a composer's life. This work was also preceded by the so called "Kindertodtenlieder," began in 1901 and finished in 1904. This collection of songs takes as its subject Rückert's poems depicting the death of children.
His wife Alma, a very superstitious woman, was deeply troubled by her husband's seeming "tempting of Fate," something that at hindsight can be reflected in the future events of his life. She later wrote that the three hammer blows in the Finale of the Sixth Symphony were prophetic premonitions of the three blows of Fate that were to fall on Mahler in 1907. First his elder daughter died of scarlet fever, secondly Mahler was diagnosed with endocarditis that eventually ended his life in 1911, and thirdly, due to various intrigues in Vienna, he was forced to resign his post as director of the Vienna Opera. However, taken at face value, Alma is not a very reliable historian. Her writings were often very exaggerated and she had a tendency to romanticise Mahler's life, twisting facts and finding other meanings in his life and works. In many ways the Sixth Symphony is an extension of the Fifth Symphony in its aesthetic and philosophical ideas, also continuing his trilogy of strictly instrumental symphonies the Fifth was the first of (Symphonies 2-4 all had human voices in one form or another and even the First Symphony was based on his own song melodies). Even the Kindertodtenlieder are not intended to be bleak, but are simply songs with poignant lyrics, written by Friedrich Rückert after the death of his own two children, and the final song is actually a love song for Alma.
Of all the Mahler symphonies, the Sixth is also the most classical in terms of form. All the other symphonies (of past and future) contained much more unconventionalities than the Sixth. The First was originally a tone poem turned symphony; no.2 was also more like a very large orchestral and choral symphonic poem; no.3 extended to seven whole movements with a massive choir and soloists to perform roughly five minutes of its 1½-hour length; no.4 featured a solo soprano; no.5 had five movements with progressive tonalities as did no.7 with its two slow movements; no.8 featured unpresedented orchestrations with two full orchestras, three choirs, two children's choirs, soloists, thus earning the name "Symphony of a Thousand"; and no.9 again employed progressive tonalities Mahler so liked to use. No.6 on the other hand features all the traits of the accepted form of a romantic symphony by the likes of Bruckner or Brahms. The whole work is in the key of A minor, from the first movement to the Finale's final statement. The first movement features a classical sonata exposition repeat that is not found in any of the other symphonies. The work has four movements in the traditionally accepted symphonic tradition and the whole work has a Classical clarity not found elsewhere in Mahler. All of this is veiled in a deeply personal and emotional personality not found from any 18th or even 19th Century symphonies.
As usual with Mahler, he continued to tinker with the orchestrations well into 1906 making some very large changes along the way. One of the biggest was the reversal of the order of the middle movements, so that the second movement was the slow movement and the third was the Scherzo. The first performance of the score thus presented the work in this form and it was performed as such on several later occasions. However, Mahler apparently had second thoughts about the reversal and he therefore expressed the wish to revert back to the original Scherzo-slow movement plan. This was not carried out during Mahler's lifetime, but after the Critical Edition of the Sixth was published in the early-1960's the middle movements were reversed in their original order. The other major revision was with the Finale's three "hammer blows of Fate." Mahler originally wrote the three blows in the score, but the very neurotic composer obviously felt too strongly about the third hammer stroke that he gave explicit instructions that the third hammer blow must not be played, because it would be lethal. It has become standard practice not to play the third hammer stroke, although there are a few that have included it in their performances. The work was given the subtitle "Tragic" by the composer himself, but like with all the other extra musical programmes and references he made earlier, he struck out the name so that we could judge the work without any preconceived ideas.
ANALYSIS OF THE MUSIC (I'll try to steer away from a too technical a drift here; if my musical jargon bores you, jump to the recordings section.)
- I. Allegro energico, ma non troppo. Heftig, aber Markig -
The first movement opens to a nightmarish scene with a grim march (this time not a banal marching band in the country). We hear heavily tramping feet of a regiment, that soon comes to a halt when the horrifying first statement of the march music is heard. This is actually a transformation of the song Der Tamboursg'sell from the song cycle Des Knaben Wunderhorn, which tells of a drummer boy sentenced to death. The march then continues in its steady pace through the bleak and urban world where no light is visible, grim and unrelenting. This march ends in an abrupt decrescendo that is managed by withdrawing instruments from the mix rather than by reducing the dynamics, and is followed by the motto of the symphony: a snare drumroll, two timpanists beat a left/left/left-right-left march cadence, and over this, three trumpeters sound a chord of A major that changes halfway through from major to minor. That is all, and it is incredibly effective. (This motto theme also appears in Der Tamboursg'sell.) As if nothing had happened, the music shifts to a chorale-like woodwind melody that turns on the violins into a more fervent and romantic theme that is identified by Mahler as representing his wife Alma. This happier theme, interrupted only by some grotesque march music, brings the exposition to a close. The entire section is then repeated in full from note to note according to Classical sonata form. In this instance the repeat is more important than ever, because it emphasizes the overall Classical approach Mahler wanted for the symphony.
The development is dominated by the marching music, being even more grim and hopeless than before, with the "fate" motif sounding almost constantly in the background. The music then suddenly quiets down, with celesta and divided violins playing mysterious chord sequences. We have now transferred to the undisturbed peace of the mountains, with cowbells sounding in the distance, "the last greeting from earth to penetrate the remote solitude of the mountain peaks," according to Mahler. The "fate" motif also makes appearances, but is so quiet and distant that it doesn't cause disturbance. However, we are soon rudely awakened from this dreamland with the returning realities of the world. In the recapitulation the march comes back, this time in major but being still very unkind. Soon we reach an almost demented and delirious crescendo as we enter back into the march music again in minor. On the whole the recapitulation is pretty conventional, but it is interestingly compressed. The Alma theme also makes a hurried reappearance, followed by the coda bringing a grotesque feeling of triumph by using the "Alma" theme as its subject of glorification. It is like the sneering of demented, laughing masks.
- II. Scherzo. Wuchtig -
According to Mahler's original intentions, there now follows the Scherzo. The movement is also in A minor, starting in a fairly similar way as the first movement did. But the Scherzo features rhythmic dissentions from the beginning. As the basses play the repeated A's quite regularly, the timpani insists on a THREE-one-two, THREE-one-two rhythm. This creates a lot of tension that remains as a permanent feature of the Scherzo. This music, although very similar to the opening movement, is more like a grotesque and horrible variant of the earlier music. The Trio appears twice in the Scherzo, once in F major and then in D major, and is metrically very irregular. Deliberately nostalgic, Mahler marks it "old-fashioned." Alma heard in it "the arhythmical play of little children." In the coda, where the "old-fashioned" music is reintroduced by a sinister cock-crow, Alma heard "the childish voices become more and more tragic, finally to die out in a whimper." In the very end we can also hear the "fate" motif in a very subdued form as the movement dies away.
- III. Andante moderato -
Next we have the gentle Andante, arguably the best slow movement Mahler ever wrote (even better than the famous Adagietto of the Fifth Symphony). The strings play pianissimo in the middle and lower registers, creating a very soothing feeling after the preceding horrors. The key of E flat major (the key most remote from A) is very mellow, just like the "Alma" theme in the first movement: "plain" but in Mahler's hands becomes a skilled and eloquent composition. The orchestrations are magical, with dabs of wind color setting this or that point into higher relief. This is music full of Mahlerian major-minor ambiguities. As a whole the movement has a surprising harmonic sweep, its climax placed in the luminous E major, also bringing back the cowbells as the music bears great resemblance to the first movement's mountain music. When the first melody appears again in the movement, the different instruments delicately overlap each other, making for a gently flowing and easily breathing feel. The constant shifting between the major and minor tonalities make the movement coloured with brilliantly flashing hues of beauty and gentleness.
As to the order of the middle movements, Mahler, as I have stated above, was uncertain about which way to put them in. The autograph marks the Scherzo before the Andante as does the first printed score. But during the rehearsals for the first performance he decided to change the order. The second printed score also places the Andante before the Scherzo. Erwin Ratz in his editorial report for the Critical Edition states that Mahler wanted the order to be changed back into its original form, but there is no direct evidence to substantiate this. However, there are three strong musical points that make the original order preferable. One: the Scherzo makes a greater impact as a parody of the first movement when heard immediately after it. Two: the Andante offers a great relief after the two powerful movements preceding it and prepares us to the emotionally taxing Finale (following as it does as the Scherzo ends in silence). Three: the key relationships are more effective in the overall structure and "feel" better in this order.
- IV. Finale. Allegro moderato - Allegro energico -
The last movement is the longest movement of the symphony, lasting some 30 minutes in total. The Finale feels "big" although, in actuality, it is not much longer than the first movement. What makes this Finale feel especially big is in the overall psychology of the movement, in its density and weight. The music is richer in event and more oppressive in its emotional burden than any of the preceding movements. This is the movement of tragedy. It begins with a low thud on C, which continues with a swirl of strangely luminous dust: harp glissandos, a woodwind chord, chains of trills on muted strings. It is quite terrifying, since everything in the symphony thus far has been so sharply defined. Only the mountain scene in the first movement is an exception. However in that context it was supposed to be a beautiful moment. This features a moment of enveloping terror. The first violins detach themselves into an impassioned recitative that collides with the crushing "fate" motif (reappearing very often during the Finale). The low strings then subside to rest on a low A. This introduction clearly folds out the key relationships of the different movements. As the Andante ended in E flat major, the Finale begins in its nearest related key, C minor. The phrase is however slewed in mid-course to A minor where it makes its cadence. The music now re-establishes the primacy of the symphony, which is A minor. Although based on traditional sonata-form in structure, the Finale is amazingly original and bold. The material of the introduction (the nebula+"fate" motif) reappears, always varied and its components are redistributed at each major juncture of the movement: before the development, before the recapitulation and to introduce the coda.
From the introduction the music returns to the world of marches. The hero goes forth into the world, full of confidence and heroism. But in the middle of the exultation (some 13 minutes into the Finale) the hero is struck down by a hammer blow. Mahler actually wanted this to be a "short, powerful, heavy-sounding blow of non-metallic quality, like the stroke of an axe." The music then gathers more energy, the march becomes even more determined and frenzied only to be halted again by a second hammer-blow at around the 17 minute mark, the music again transforming into a feeling of horrible terror. This finally leads back to the almost 10-minute long recapitulation (basically the same as the main part of the movement but with slight variations), which in its turn finally leads to the coda and the introductory dust-storm one last time, followed by the "fate" motto. This is the place where Mahler originally wrote the third hammer-blow (somewhat strangely placed in the middle of the harp glissandos of the haze rather than at the juncture it would feel more comfortable at), but struck it out from his finished score. He also lightened the orchestrations at this point, striking out the trombones and tuba, using only one timpanist and cutting back the dynamics of the horns, trumpets and percussion. After the "fate" chord follows a long drumroll with tuba and trombones playing funeral music for the dead hero. The music winds down, seemingly dying away into nothingness, the feeling is of utter bleakness. But just when you think that the music is about to stop, a final, brutal, tragic gesture of the "fate" motto blasts forth in A minor. All hope is gone, there is not even a possibility of salvation. And behind it, the drummer's last grim beat of the "fate" motif.
RECORDINGS
One of the best is the 1976 recording by Herbert von Karajan with the Berliner Philharmoniker on Deutsche Grammophon. Very much a milestone, the first movement has such amazing power that is very difficult top, the Scherzo gives the "old-fashioned" music a great sense of nostalgia, the slow movement is wonderfully spacious, so that the music has a very natural flow with plenty of space to breath, and the Finale takes you on a ride you'll never forget, keeping you with the music to the very end. It is aptly coupled with the Kindertotenlieder, and the recording overall, though it could use slightly more reverberation, is detailed and clean. (Deutsche Grammophon Originals, 2GOR2 457-716)
The stressing rhetoric of Benjamin Zander's new recording with the Philharmonia is one of the most furious accounts ever made. It could use a lot less of the self-importance of the conductor to make his case, but there is nothing to really hinder the performance, although one must admit it is a little uninspired, which is strange since the Sixth is supposed to be Zander's hallmark. It also includes the Finale twice, first in its original form with the three hammer-blows and followed by the usual revised version. The third disc also includes a commentary of the work that doesn't really give us anything new, but is a good introduction to the work anyhow. Despite its flaws, it is better than his earlier Boston Philharmonic version, though the hammer strokes in that version come off better than anywhere else I feel. At the price of only one CD, the Telarc version comes highly recommended. (Telarc, 3SA 60586)
John Barbirolli's 1967 New Philharmonia account gives us a very slow approach to the first movement, the march tempo carefully judged and executed without letting it drag, something that is very difficult at this speed. This gives the music an overall sense of Weltschmerz that is not achieved often and it is this sense of impending doom that pervades the entire performance. Nowhere is this more evident than in the finales uncalled for pause during the last moment a major key is heard in the score. (EMI Classics, CZS7 67816)
Leonard Bernstein's tempo with the New York Philharmonic, on the other hand, is extremely fast in the outer movements, creating a wonderful sense of urgency and energy to the proceedings. The problem is that it does make the listening a bit difficult, ultimately making the music just too impersonal, but it is all authentic Bernstein. (Sony Classics, 60208)
In the budget range, Naxos offers a great version of the Sixth, performed by Antoni Wit and the Polish National Radio Symphony Orchestra in a richly recorded and detailed account that is a safe recommendation to anyone, even though the finale could use a bit more weight. (Naxos, 8.550529-30)
FINAL WORDS
This is definitely not music for the easily depressed or those who think all music should be happy and joyous without any clouds in sight. This is a deeply emotional work, filled with grief, shadows and horrors. And that is exactly what makes the Mahler Sixth such a unique work. The bleak ending confirms once and for all that Mahler is not writing a "Romantic symphony" in the usual Beethoven mould of his Fifth Symphony. Like so many 19th century composers' symphonies in the minor keys (or other works from the same period), the finale was always the place where all the clouds would disperse and it would end in a satisfying major key (the Victory concept "from tragedy to triumph"). Not so here. This stands almost as a pure Classical symphony in every sense of the word (it is a most abstract work, despite the very pictorial moments). It is only clothed in the clothes of the 20th century combined with huge personal emotion, and all of these considerations make the work, in my mind, the best of Mahler's nine symphonies.
Personal experience? I still remember the one time I played this in a darkly lit room with no interference from others. By the end I was an emotional wreck, unable to move or make a sound for 15 minutes. Death in music... it doesn't get better than this.
