DISCLAIMER: For those that are new to my little music appreciation blog, I want to make sure you know that I am not a musician, historian, or musical scholar. I do a lot of reading to prepare one of these articles, and I freely admit that I don’t always draw the correct conclusions. However, I love this particular form of music-making. In particular, I prefer orchestral music that hails from the Baroque, Classical, Romantic, and Early 20th Century periods of what is broadly referred to as Classical Music. My goal with this blog is to write about music that I find particularly interesting. I hope that you find something here that you can enjoy as well. Thank you for reading!
In this article, we will take a look at Mahler’s epic Symphony No. 2 in C Minor (“Resurrection”). Some people view most of the Classical genre as “Easy Listening,” and that feels like a blanket mischaracterization. While I’m not one of these people that is always looking for some obscure and more profound meaning to every piece of Classical music, there’s no denying that with this work, Mahler was plumbing the depths of his personal struggles with faith and his religious beliefs. There’s not much on this Earth that is more personal to an individual than one’s religious beliefs. Faith is a complex subject to put into words at the best of times. Still, unlike most people, Gustav Mahler was a brilliant composer with large orchestral forces at his disposal, which he could use to express his deep and troubling feelings on the subject. Legend has it that he was once asked about his religious background, and he responded simply, “I am a composer.” The work was also influenced by many other circumstances in the years that led up to the premier, and the result was a life-changing composition of such proportion and depth of emotional exploration so as to defy adequate description by such writers as myself.
A brief personal aside….
My earliest exposure to the works of Gustav Mahler came as the result of some research related to a past conductor of my hometown orchestra, the Erie Philharmonic. Among the many great conductors that our orchestra has worked with over the years, Fritz Mahler was one of the more famous past maestros. He was a second cousin to Gustav, and he led the Erie Philharmonic from 1947 to 1953. Some of his work with the orchestra even made it to the international stage when representatives of the US State Department came to Erie to record Young People’s Concerts in December of 1950 as part of a counter-propaganda campaign. (More about it HERE)
In part, Fritz Mahler led me to explore the works of his famous cousin, Gustav. As most probably do, I started with the Adagietto from the Fifth Symphony. The sheer beauty of the music was astounding, and I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t sought out more compositions written by Mahler previously. From there, I started listening to his Symphonies in order, and I was struck in particular by the power of his First Symphony. Each of Mahler’s symphonic works has something by which to recommend it, and perhaps we’ll explore more of his works in another post. For now, let’s get back to the Second Symphony.
The “Resurrection” premiered in part (the first three movements) at the Philharmonie in Berlin on March 4th, 1895. A complete premiere took place on December 13th of the same year, but the journey began just over seven years before, in 1888. He had just finished his First Symphony in D Major, subtitled “Titan.” While he was working on an opera and keeping up with his conducting duties, he started sketching out the framework for the Second Symphony. He completed an orchestral draft of the first movement, started on the second within ten months of beginning work, and handed it off to the famous German conductor, Hans von Bulow, for review.
While he continued working on the symphony into early 1889, Mahler suffered several personal tragedies that delayed any further work and, in my opinion, had a profound influence on the final product. Early in that year, Mahler’s father, mother, and sister each died within a few months of one another. As if these losses weren’t enough of a blow, the premiere of “Titan” on November 20th was not well-received critically or by the public at large. As a result, Mahler decided to put aside composing for a while. He focused on his guest conducting duties and his work as conductor of the Hungarian Royal Opera. It would be four years before he would return to the Second Symphony, but in the summer of 1893, he picked up where he left off. He started writing the song “Des Antonius von Padua Fischpredigt” (“St. Anthony of Padua’s Sermon to the Fishes”) for piano and voice in July of that year while also writing a standalone orchestral version of the same material. The latter, along with a trio section based on ideas not present in the vocal version, became the symphony’s third movement. During this time, he also maintained a keen interest in Des Knaben Wunderhorn (The Boy’s Magic Horn), a collection of German folk poems and songs edited by Achim von Arnim and Clemens Brentano. The musical settings of Wunderhorn influenced the fourth movement, and what would eventually become “Urlicht” (“Primal Light”) was based on another text from the same set of poems. Much like the third movement, the music that would become the fourth movement started as a song for a much smaller ensemble made up of a violin, and piano, that also received orchestral accompaniment. Soon he had the music polished and expanded for the whole orchestra. He even integrated sketches from 1888, which he had initially abandoned for one reason or another. Still, there was enough music in the combined body of work that he was able to complete not only the fourth movement but the second movement as well. All he was missing was the finale. One of the things about Mahler that has always interested me was that he didn’t feel bound by traditional compositional structures seen during the Classical, Romantic, and even the Early 20th Century periods of orchestral music. In each of those cases, a Symphony traditionally consists of only four movements. Still, where Mahler’s Second (and others) is concerned, he used a fifth movement to finish the work. He needed a definitive and emphatic finale for this great symphony.
Have you ever noticed how some of the greatest musical works of history coincide with tragic circumstances experienced by the composer(s)? As we’ve seen, Mahler was no stranger to personal tragedy, and it was the funeral of Hans von Bulow on March 29th, 1894, that helped mold the musical ideas for the fifth and final movement. Mahler had already sketched out a choral conclusion for the symphony, and it was this somber event that provided him with a textual basis for the final movement when the words of Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock’s “Auferstehen” (“Resurrection”) sounded from the organ loft. The poet [Klopstock] intended the lyrics to be sung to an existing melody, such as the Lutheran congregational hymn Jesus Christ, Our Savior. However, the actual tune Mahler heard during the funeral service remains a mystery. Mahler added twenty-seven more lines of poetry to the first two stanzas of Klopstock’s lyrics, and with this in hand, Mahler created the monumental final movement before three months had passed.
The lyrics of the fourth and fifth movements (translations shown below) concern the gift of eternal life through the assumption of the human soul. The idea of resurrection presented in these poems conforms to what we see given in the New Testament and Tanakh (the Written Torah, which roughly corresponds to the Old Testament). However, a programmatic affiliation with the Unetanah Tokef, a prayer which figures prominently in the liturgies of both Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, potentially strengthens the Jewish links of the symphony. In connection with a Dresden performance on December 20th, 1901, the composer prepared a programmatic summary of the work. It presents an internal voice two times that a few commentators and music historians have speculated is a recollection of the “still small voice” that heralds the day of judgment (Yom Kippur) as seen in the Unetanah Tokef. Mahler’s program notes has this internal voice questioning the meaning of life and death in the first movement. The fourth movement, “Urlicht,” outlines one’s desire to unite with God in the hereafter. The prose which describes the finale depicts the Apocalyptic Day of Judgment in a series of scenes that parallels some of the imagery which can be found in the Unetanah Tokef. Since Mahler didn’t convert to Roman Catholicism until the year 1887—three years after the piece was completed— the idea of a Jewish influence in Symphony No. 2 should not seem surprising. However, the 1901 program postdated his acceptance of the Christian faith. Nevertheless, several scholars view this work as part of a ten-year process of religious conversion. For these ones, the chorale-like passages of even his First Symphony already point to the composer’s changing views. Regardless of where Mahler stood concerning his formal involvement with Judaism or Catholicism when he penned the Second Symphony, his programmatic structure for the finale departs from the Jewish and Christian conceptions of God at the Last Judgment. Despite the trembling earth, dead rising from their graves, and sounding of trumpets that exist in the program where he depicts the end of the world, Mahler’s concept of God never actually brings judgement upon the world. Instead, love illuminates and blesses all.
The composer also provided programmatic descriptions of the second and third movements. The notes written for the 1901 Dresden performance characterize the Andante as alternating between happy and sad remembrances (particularly of love and lost innocence) while then associating the third movement’s scherzo with the unbelief and despair that lead to a cry of profound and heartfelt desperation. Additional detail for the scherzo also emerges from two earlier programs that the composer shared with the violinist Natalie Bauer-Lechner and the music critic Max Marschalk in 1896. Each of these scenarios compares the third movement to watching a dance without hearing the musical accompaniment; to Mahler, this act represents a loss of identity and meaning, and in the music, it leads to a cry of disgust.
Without further ado, we’ll take a look at the program notes as written by Mahler himself for a performance of his 2nd Symphony that took place in Dresden in December of 1901 that I’ve referenced previously. Both of the 1896 programs link the Second Symphony to the death, life, and resurrection of a heroic individual (while the 1901 version refers only to a well-loved person – also shown below). The second of these programmatic depictions, which was contained in a letter to Marschalk dated March 26th, 1896, reiterates that Mahler had formerly called the first movement “Todtenfeier.” Although this letter didn’t explain the “Todtenfeier” designation, the name seems appropriate for music that evokes a funeral march. In 1888, the epic poem Dziady (“Forefather’s Eve”) written by Polish author Adam Mickiewicz appeared in German translation as Todtenfeier. Siegfried Lipiner, a close friend of Mahler’s, produced the translation, and portions of the narrative closely resembled the composer’s personal circumstances at the time of its publication, right down to the character names.ram was written by Mahler himself for a performance of his 2nd Symphony that took place in Dresden in December of 1901 that we’ve seen referenced above. Both of the 1896 programs link the Second Symphony to the death, life, and resurrection of a heroic individual (whereas the 1901 version refers only to a well-loved person – as shown below). The second of these two programmatic depictions, contained in a letter to Marschalk dated March 26th, 1896, reiterates that Mahler had formerly called the first movement “Todtenfeier.” Although this letter didn’t explain the Todtenfeier designation, the name seems appropriate for music that evokes a funeral march. In 1888, the epic poem Dziady (Forefather’s Eve) by the eminent Polish writer Adam Mickiewicz appeared in German translation as Todtenfeier. Siegfried Lipiner, a close friend of Mahler’s, produced the translation, and portions of the narrative resembled the composer’s personal situation at the time of its publication, right down to the character names.
Program
First Movement: Allegro maestoso
“We are standing near the grave of a well-loved man. His whole life, his struggles, his sufferings, and his accomplishments on earth pass before us. And now, in this solemn and deeply stirring moment, when the confusion and distractions of everyday life are lifted like a hood from our eyes, a voice of awe-inspiring solemnity chills our heart, a voice that, blinded by the mirage of everyday life, we usually ignore: “What next?” it says. “What is life, and what is death? Will we live on eternally? Is it all an empty dream, or do our life and death have a meaning?” And we must answer this question if we are to go on living. The next three movements are conceived as intermezzi.”
Second Movement: Andante
“A blissful moment in the dear departed’s life and a sad recollection of his youth and lost innocence.”
Third Movement: Scherzo
“A spirit of disbelief and negation has seized him. He is bewildered by the bustle of appearances and he loses his perception of childhood and the profound strength that love alone can give. He despairs both of himself and of God. The world and life begin to seem unreal. Utter disgust for every form of existence and evolution seizes him in an iron grasp, torments him until he utters a cry of despair.”
Fourth Movement: Alto solo. ‘Urlicht’ (Primal Light) – from the Knaben Wunderhorn (Original Lyrics and Translation below)
The stirring words of simple faith sound in his ears: “I come from God and I will return to God!”
Fifth Movement: Aufersteh’n
“Once more we must confront terrifying questions, and the atmosphere is the same as at the end of the third movement. The voice of the Caller is heard. The end of every living thing has come, the last judgment is at hand and the horror of the day of days has come upon us. The earth trembles, the graves burst open, the dead arise and march forth in endless procession. The great and the small of this earth, the kings and the beggars, the just and the godless all press forward. The cry for mercy and forgiveness sounds fearful in our ears. The wailing becomes gradually more terrible. Our senses desert us; all consciousness dies as the Eternal Judge approaches. The last trump sounds; the trumpets of the Apocalypse ring out. In the eerie silence that follows, we can just barely make out a distant nightingale, a last tremulous echo of earthly life. The gentle sound of a chorus of saints and heavenly hosts is then heard: “Rise again, yes, rise again thou wilt!” Then God in all His glory comes into sight. A wondrous light strikes us to the heart. All is quiet and blissful. Lo and behold: 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.”
Lyrics
Fourth Movement: Urlight (Primal Light)
| Original German: | English Translation: |
| O Röschen roth! Der Mensch liegt in größter Noth! Der Mensch liegt in größter Pein! Je lieber möcht’ ich in Himmel sein! Da kam ich auf einen breiten Weg: Da kam ein Engelein und wollt’ mich abweisen. Ach nein! Ich ließ mich nicht abweisen: Ich bin von Gott und will wieder zu Gott! Der liebe Gott wird mir ein Lichtchen geben, Wird leuchten mir bis in das ewig selig Leben! —DES KNABEN WUNDERHORN | O little red rose! Man lies in greatest need! Man lies in greatest suffering! How much rather would I be in Heaven! I came upon a broad road. There came an angel and wanted to block my way. Ah no! I did not let myself be turned away! I am of God, and to God I shall return. Dear God will grant me a small light, Will light my way to eternal, blissful life! —From Des Knaben Wunderhorn |
Fifth Movement: Aufersteh’n (Resurrection)
| Original German: | English Translation: |
| Aufersteh’n, ja aufersteh’n wirst du, Mein Staub, nach kurzer Ruh! Unsterblich Leben Wird der dich rief dir geben. Wieder aufzublüh’n wirst du gesät! Der Herr der Ernte geht Und sammelt Garben Uns ein, die starben. —FRIEDRICH KLOPSTOCK O glaube, mein Herz, o glaube: Es geht dir nichts verloren! Dein ist, was du gesehnt! Dein, was du geliebt, Was du gestritten! O glaube: Du wardst nicht umsonst geboren! Hast nicht umsonst gelebt, gelitten! Was entstanden ist, das muß vergehen! Was vergangen, auferstehen! Hör’ auf zu beben! Bereite dich zu leben! O Schmerz! Du Alldurchdringer! Dir bin ich entrungen! O Tod! Du Allbezwinger! Nun bist du bezwungen! Mit Flügeln, die ich mir errungen, In heißem Liebesstreben, Werd’ ich entschweben Zum Licht, zu dem kein Aug’ gedrungen! Sterben werd’ ich, um zu leben! Aufersteh’n, ja aufersteh’n wirst du, Mein Herz, in einem Nu! Was du geschlagen, Zu Gott wird es dich tragen! —GUSTAV MAHLER | Arise, yes, you will arise from the dead, My dust, after a short rest! Eternal life! Will be given you by Him who called you. To bloom again are you sown. The lord of the harvest goes And gathers the sheaves, Us who have died. —FRIEDRICH KLOPSTOCK O believe, my heart, oh believe, Nothing will be lost to you! Everything is yours that you have desired, Yours, what you have loved, what you have struggled for. O believe, You were not born in vain, Have not lived in vain, suffered in vain! What was created must perish, What has perished must rise again. Tremble no more! Prepare yourself to live! O Sorrow, all-penetrating! I have been wrested away from you! O Death, all-conquering! Now you are conquered! With wings that I won In the passionate strivings of love I shall mount To the light to which no sight has penetrated. I shall die, so as to live! Arise, yes, you will arise from the dead, My heart, in an instant! What you have conquered Will bear you to God. —GUSTAV MAHLER |
Recordings
This is my favorite part of writing an entry on this blog. I get to listen to quite a few recordings of the work I’ve researched, and I also get to read many critical reviews. I always learn so much through this part of the process. Every time I delve into a work whose deeper meaning is a little beyond my understanding, I am forever grateful to be living in a time where information is a click or tap away. Beyond that, more and more recordings are being restored that broaden the already vast library of music that we have available to us. Like any great symphonic work, there’s no shortage of great recordings for us to examine (and enjoy). I am sure that each of you reading this has a favorite, but here are a few of mine.
Sir Simon Rattle conducting the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, Chorus, and Youth Chorus
The same orchestra made a recording in 1987 with Sir Simon Rattle conducting that is considered one of, if not the definitive modern recording of Mahler’s Second Symphony. If you watch the 1998 recording linked below, you can hear pretty much the same performance as the one rendered to disc eleven years previous. What I like most about the live 1998 performance is that aside from the orchestra musicians, none of the other musicians on stage, including Sir Simon, were using scores. Everybody appears to have memorized the work! What an experience that must have been for those fortunate enough to be in attendance! At this stage in Mahler’s career, the end of his symphonies typically concludes with the composer metaphorically cranking it up to 11 and yanking off the knob!
Naturally, any discussion of Mahler recordings must include a couple of very famous conductors who had the privilege of working with the composer during his lifetime. Those conductors are Bruno Walter and Otto Klemperer. I’m sure that of the two, you probably have a preference, dear reader, and speaking for myself; I prefer Bruno Walter. He made a recording of Mahler 2 between 1957 and 1958 with the New York Philharmonic. Yes, you read that right. He recorded the fourth and fifth movements on February 18th, 1957. He recorded the rest of the work a year later on February 17th (first movement) and February 21st (second and third movements) of 1958. I’m sure there was a reason for this exciting approach, but it doesn’t appear to have impacted the end result. What a spectacular sound!
I could go on and on with recordings of Mahler’s Second Symphony. It’s been recorded very successfully over the years by many conductors and orchestras, and I would highly recommend that you seek out your favorite if you don’t already have one. In closing, if you are somewhere near Erie, PA, I would like to take this opportunity to recommend strongly that you grab a ticket to the Erie Philharmonic’s upcoming performance of Mahler’s “Resurrection” Symphony on June 26th. I haven’t taken the time yet on this blog to mention the astounding impact that the renovations, and in particular, the orchestra shell have had on how the orchestra sounds from one of the 2,200 seats in the Warner Theater. As someone who has been attending concerts at the Warner since I was a child, I can tell you that the difference is not just noticeable, it’s profound. I can promise you that the hall will ring with the unbridled emotion that Mahler poured into this work! I hope that you can be there to bear witness to one of the Erie Philharmonic’s greatest achievements in its 100+ year history.
https://eriephil.org/calendar/mahler
Additional reading/listening:
https://www.classicfm.com/composers/mahler/guides/symphony-no-2-genius/