Classical Crash Course, part three: Mahler? I Hardly Know Her

I want to start this blog with an apology to all 4 of you who are reading this so far. On Wednesday, I promised I’d be bringing you Rachmaninoff, but I made a mistake. I thought the piece that I was thinking of was by our pal Rach, but it’s not.

So instead of reading more about our friendly neighborhood Russian composers who were sad all the time, we’re going to talk about an Austrian composer who was sad, but only part-time. We’re also finally moving out of the extra-ness of the romantic movement into the slightly less extra-ness of modernism. When you think of modernism, think “innovation.” Modernists took all the big ideas from romanticism but added a twist – a twist in that they didn’t give an eff. About anything.

Enter Mahler. Mahler was the frontrunner of modernism, having arrived on the classical scene when romanticism was dying out. Unfortunately, although Mahler was a giant of his age, he wasn’t fully respected as a musician and composer until after his death. Since he was a Jew, Nazi Germany was not a fan of his work, so most performances of his music were banned. (At one point in his life, Mahler actually converted to Catholicism so he wouldn’t get overly criticized by the anti-Semitic press.

Mahler has a lot of well-known works. While his best-known is probably Mahler 8, the piece I’ve chosen is a movement from Mahler 5. The piece that I’ve chosen out of this symphony is speculated to be one of the most performed of his works.

HOW TO MAKE LADIES SWOON: Adagietto

If Adagietto were a truly “romantic” piece, it would be breaking a lot of rules. While romantic pieces, like Tchaikovsky’s “None But the Lonely Heart,” are sumptuous and sweeping, Adagietto is…sexy. Although the piece is written in a minor key and sounds somewhat melancholy, it’s actually a celebration of love. In fact, some scholars believe that Adagietto represents a love letter Mahler had written to his wife, Alma (Alma Mahler. Am I the only one who thinks that’s funny?) Here’s the text of that letter, translated from German:

(How much I love you, you my sun, I cannot tell you that with words. I can only lament to you my longing and my love, my bliss!

(Also, if your man doesn’t write you love letters, DROP HIM.)

And if you listen closely, you can hear the music reflect these simple words. The repitition of the theme (introduced at the very beginning of the piece by the string section), the dearth of musical “sighs” (like the ones I talked about in Tchaikovsky), accompanied by some dissonant chords during the climax of the movement, which may represent his “lament.”

Before Mahler met Alma, he had quite the reputation with the ladies. Alma knew this, and wasn’t too keen on meeting him. But when she did, sparks flew and they were quickly married (she was already preggers, btw.) Their married life was not easy. Like most artists, Mahler was tempermental, and Alma was prone to be flirtatious. In 1907, their young daughter died of scarlet fever, and that same year Mahler was diagnosed with a heart defect, which ended up killing him in 1911.

Although there was difficulty in their marriage (as there is in any marriage), there’s no doubt that Mahler had a passionate love for his wife – how else could you write a piece as sweeping as Adagietto?

So boys, take a number from Mahler. Write her a love song.

a. w.