DISCLAIMER: For those new to my little music appreciation blog, I want to assure you 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 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!

“A Symphony must be like the world—it must contain everything!”

Gustav Mahler (in a conversation with fellow composer Jean Sibelius)

Have you heard of the “Epic Music” genre? Even if you haven’t explicitly heard it defined that way, I’m sure you have. Before it had a name, Epic Music could generally be found in trailers for movies or other forms of industrial orchestral music that rarely makes it outside of a sound stage. In my case, I see “Epic” music as a composition that isn’t necessarily written with a specific purpose or program, but in every way, it’s over-the-top. I went looking for such music and found Two Steps from Hell, a group founded by Thomas Bergersen and Nick Phoenix. The two composers started out writing music for movie trailers. Since the music for a film is one of the last things to be done, there are industry composers who will write compositions to sound like one composer or another so that the film’s marketing team has something to put out there to give the movie-going public a taste of what’s to come. Why do I bring this up, you ask? It’s pretty simple, really. It was an exploration of the “Epic Music” genre that led me to develop a greater appreciation for the works of Gustav Mahler.

I’m sure this has happened to many of you. You start out on your music streaming service of choice, or your CD/LP library, looking for one thing, and before you know it, you’re sitting in front of your home stereo, doing your best impression of the Maxell Guy after stumbling across something by Mahler (or another composer of a similar persuasion).

Such things have happened to me many times over the years, and it was one such occasion had me listening to the first movement of Mahler’s Symphony No. 1, “Titan,” at a volume that likely annoyed my neighbors. The same thing happened when I discovered Mahler’s “Resurrection” Symphony, the Adagietto from the Fifth, and the final moments of the “Symphony of a Thousand” (Mahler’s EPIC 8th Symphony).

One of the things I’ve always loved about Gustav Mahler, as a composer and a person, is that he was remarkably sensitive to life’s drama, and he had a unique way of wearing it on his sleeve and putting all of it into his music. He frequently shunned the convention of compositional structure with his symphonies. Until Mahler, mostly, a symphony typically featured four movements and followed a predictable structure, as shown below:

“A symphony is an extended musical composition in Western classical music, most often for orchestra. Although the term has had many meanings from its origins in the ancient Greek era, by the late 18th century the word had taken on the meaning common today: a work usually consisting of multiple distinct sections or movements, often four, with the first movement in sonata form. Symphonies are almost always scored for an orchestra consisting of a string section (violin, viola, cello, and double bass), brass, woodwind, and percussion instruments which altogether number about 30 to 100 musicians. Symphonies are notated in a musical score, which contains all the instrument parts. Orchestral musicians play from parts which contain just the notated music for their own instrument. Some symphonies also contain vocal parts (e.g., Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony).”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symphony

However, the Third Symphony has six movements, and it almost had a seventh if Mahler had not decided to use the movement for the end of his Fourth Symphony instead. As I’ve been researching for this article, one thing that has struck me is my inadequacy to grasp the complexities of some significant works fully. Mahler’s 3rd certainly fits the bill on that score. For that, Dear Reader, I apologize in advance.

A little history….

Work began on the symphony sometime in 1893 and was completed in 1896. However, the vast majority of the music was written in 1895, over the summer. Mahler would frequently retreat to the Austrian Alps and spend summers away from his often busy conducting schedule. In 1893, he stopped off in the village of Steinbach, on the Attersee, located in the picturesque Salzkammergut region of Upper Austria. He spent some time along the shore of the Attersee in a somewhat isolated cottage that he came to call his “Komponierhäuschen” (composing hut). Spending time in such isolation and among the beautiful scenery helped him reconnect with one of his primary sources of inspiration, nature itself. Mahler attempted to express the essence of his present work in an excerpt from a June 1896 letter written to a close friend and violist, Natalie Bauer-Lechner.

“It has almost ceased to be music; it is hardly anything but sounds of Nature. It’s eerie, the way life gradually breaks through, out of soulless, petrified matter. (I might equally well have called the movement “What The Mountain Rocks Tell Me.”) And, as this life rises from stage to stage, it takes on ever more highly developed forms: flowers, beasts, man, up to the sphere of the spirits, the “Angels.” Once again, an atmosphere of brooding summer midday heat hangs over the introduction . . . ; not a breath stirs, all life is suspended, and the sun-drenched air trembles and vibrates. I hear it in my inner ear, but how to find the right notes for it?”

According to the well-known conductor Bruno Walter, Mahler followed a strict daily regimen.

“He spent his mornings at work in the cottage, undisturbed by the noises of the house. He went there at six in the morning, at seven his breakfast was silently placed before him, and only when he opened the door at noon would he return to normal life.”

During a visit to Mahler, as he was getting close to wrapping up initial work on the 3rd symphony, Walter remarked on the magnificent alpine scenery all around. Mahler simply replied, “No need to look up there — I’ve already composed all that.”

Mahler’s composition hut, Steinbach am Attersee

In its final form, the symphony became the longest of its kind in what is referred to as the “Standard Repertoire,” with a performance run time of between 95 and 110 minutes. It is set in the key of D Minor, and the six movements, shown below, are broken into two parts. The first movement alone comes in between 25 and sometimes up to 40 minutes, and makes up Part One. The other five movements are Part Two.

I. Kräftig. Entschieden (Strong and decisive) D minor to F major

II. Tempo di Menuetto Sehr mässig (In the tempo of a minuet, very moderate) A major

III. Comodo (Scherzando) Ohne Hast (Comfortable (Scherzo), without haste) C minor to C major

IV. Sehr langsam—Misterioso (Very slowly, mysteriously) D major

V. Lustig im Tempo und keck im Ausdruck (Cheerful in tempo and cheeky in expression) F major

VI. Langsam—Ruhevoll—Empfunden (Slowly, tranquil, deeply felt) D major

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symphony_No.3(Mahler)

Gustav Mahler’s personal copy of the first full score of Symphony No. 3 with his markings

Mahler had a program in mind in his first four symphonies and later works to varying degrees. While the program notes and the symphony’s title weren’t included when the score was published in 1898, they’re still interesting to remember as you listen to the music unfold. The titles were as follows:

1. “Pan Awakes, Summer Marches In”
2. “What the Flowers in the Meadow Tell Me”
3. “What the Animals in the Forest Tell Me”
4. “What Man Tells Me”
5. “What the Angels Tell Me”
6. “What Love Tells Me”

https://mahlerfoundation.org/mahler/compositions/symphony-no-3/symphony-no-3-introduction/

In an 1896 letter to Max Marschalk, a music critic and friend of the composer, Mahler referred to the symphony overall by the title “A Summer’s Midday Dream.” He also noted that Part One, the first movement, had two distinct sections consisting of “Introduction: Pan Awakes” and “I. Summer Marches In (Bacchic Procession).” In another letter, still in 1896, he wrote to Anna von Mildenburg, elaborating further on the contents of Part One. Mahler said that the first movement was conceived as two sections, the first being “What the Stony Mountains Tell Me” and the second “Summer Marches In.” In another letter to Mildenburg in the summer of that same year, Mahler said that “Pan” seemed to him to be the best overall title for the 3rd symphony, emphasizing that he was intrigued by the dual meaning of “Pan”; a Greek god and also the Greek word, which means “all.”

All titles and the programmatic ideas were dropped by the time of publication in 1898. He kept the music the same but dropped everything else since he wanted to avoid influencing the listener toward one idea or another. He wanted the experience to be unique to each person who heard it. Speaking for myself, the original program notes are fascinating and fitting. Mahler revised the symphony one last time in 1899.

Another interesting tidbit about this symphony is that it was initially supposed to have a seventh movement (I know, right?). The movement was going to be a song called “Heavenly Life” or alternatively, “What the Child Tells Me.” He did write the music, but it was dropped from the 3rd Symphony and eventually became the finale of his 4th Symphony. Still, he pulled some ideas from the song and used them as a part of the fifth (choral) movement, which features a children’s chorus.

The Music

Instrumentation

The symphony is scored for large orchestra, consisting of the following:

Woodwinds

• 4 flutes (3rd and 4th doubling piccolos, 1st and 2nd doubling piccolos in movements 1, 3 and 5)
• 4 oboes (4th doubling cor anglais)
• 3 B♭, A, C clarinets (3rd doubling bass clarinet)
• 2 E♭ clarinets (2nd doubling 4th clarinet)
• 4 bassoons (4th doubling contrabassoon)

Brass

• posthorn (sometimes substituted by a flugelhorn, used only in movement 3, offstage)
• 8 horns
• 4 trumpets
• 4 trombones
• tuba

Percussion

• 8 timpani (two players, four timpani each)
• bass drum
• several snare drums (used only in movement 1, offstage)
• cymbals
• triangle
• tambourine
• tam-tam
• rute (used only in movement 2)
• 6 tuned bells (used only in movement 5, “on a high gallery”)
• 2 glockenspiels (2nd used only in movement 5)

Voices

• alto solo (used only in movements 4 and 5)
• women’s choir (used only in movement 5, “on a high gallery”)
• boys choir (used only in movement 5, “on a high gallery”)

Strings

• 2 harps
• 1st violins
• 2nd violins
• violas
• cellos
• double basses (with low C string)

…And a partridge in a pear tree

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symphony_No.3(Mahler) – I added that last bit

In most symphonies, one movement is related to the next in some way or another. While that is still true about the Third Symphony by Mahler, the movements weren’t written in order, and they could be heard separately or alone without much trouble. This is especially true of the first movement. At an average performance length of around 35 minutes, the first movement is longer than the whole of some Classical period symphonies by composers such as Mozart or Haydyn.

The opening movement, monumental in nature, still mostly follows the sonata form (more on Sonata Form here). There is an alternating presentation of two main theme groups; the themes are varied and grow each time they are presented to the listener. The typical harmonic logic of the sonata form movement, traditionally the first movement, particularly the tonic statement of the second theme group material in the recapitulation, appears to be changed in this setting. The symphony opens with a modified theme stated by a French horn choir of eight players playing in unison, which is quoted from the fourth movement of Brahms’ Symphony No. 1. The same rhythm is used, but quite a few of the notes are changed.

Before we go on, it should be stated that Mahler was somewhat ambivalent towards “tradition.” Anyone who has spent any time listening to or reading about his life and music knows that he followed traditions only so far, and according to Mahler’s biographer, Henry-Louis De La Grange, he liked to find ways to poke fun at or even insult traditions. Here, too, with his quotation of Brahms, Mahler was continuing something that Brahms did with that same symphony and movement. Back when Brahms’ first symphony premiered, a music critic commented to Brahms that there was a close resemblance to the musical themes of Beethoven’s Ninth “Choral” Symphony in the final movement of his (Brahms) First Symphony. To which Brahms replied, “Any idiot can hear that!” Back to the music…

The opening builds slowly into a stimulating orchestral march. A solo tenor trombone passage then states a bold, secondary melody that develops and transforms with each recurrence. At what appears to be the conclusion of the development section, several snare drums begin to play a rhythmic passage lasting about thirty seconds or so, and then the opening line by the eight horns repeats nearly note for note. Overall, the first movement is a bold and vibrant celebration of life. Mahler related it to the banishment of winter with “the victorious appearance of Helios and the miracle of spring thanks to which all things live, breathe, flower, sing and ripen,” and later, the arrival of summer, “a conqueror advancing amidst all that grows and blooms.”

As we move on to the second movement, I wanted to mention that while Mahler took inspiration from nature for the bulk of this symphony, he specifically dedicated the second movement to “the flowers on the meadow.” As you might expect, the music of the second movement is very different from the first. As it begins, the contrast to the bold and loud brass passages is apparent as here the movement opens with a graceful Menuet, but it’s not without some relatively “stormy” moments. It is nature, after all, and it’s not always sunshine and roses out there.

The third movement is a Scherzo in a nod to traditional structure. The meter of the movement alternates between 2/4 and 6/8 with many quotations from Mahler’s own early song, “Ablösung im Sommer” (Relief in Summer). As with a Scherzo, it is mainly playful and dance-like, but there are moments in this part of the work where there are some contemplative moments, which are performed by an off-stage post-horn or flugelhorn, playing a solo. This movement’s post-horn “episode” is said to resemble standardized signals in Austria and Prussia from the period. In fact, the post-horn off-stage solo is interrupted by a trumpet fanfare, which is a note-for-note quote of the Austrian military’s signal for “falling out” (Abblasen). The musical quotes don’t stop there. Mahler goes on to quote bits of other melodies as well. He includes part of a Spanish folk melody, Jota Aragonesa, the same part that Mikhail Glinka quoted in his work Caprice Brilliante, and it also happened to be the same passage quoted by Franz Lizst in his Rhapsodie Espagnole. From what I could find, the specific orchestration was likely borrowed from Ferrucio Busoni’s transcription of the Rhapsodie Espagnole for piano and orchestra. Much about the musical structure is nearly identical, and in 1910, Busoni himself noticed and remarked on the fact. In yet another poke at tradition, Mahler has the post-horn melody interrupt the reprises of the scherzo melody through the rest of the movement.

The fourth movement brings us to the point where Mahler introduces the alto soloist of the piece. Here, the alto sings a setting of Friedrich Nietzsche’s “Midnight Song” (“Zarathustra’s roundelay”) from Also Sprach Zarathustra. The song opens with “O Mensch! Gib acht!” (“O man! Take heed!”), and if you listen closely, you will hear callbacks to material from the first movement. The fourth movement also contains moments of oboe glissandi, which represents the cry of a night bird.

O man! Give heed!
What does the deep midnight say?
I slept!
From deepest dream have I wakened!
The world is deep!
And deeper than the day had thought!
Deep, deep is its suffering!
Joy deeper still than deepest woe!
Woe says: Be gone!
But all joy seeks eternity!
Seeks deep, deep eternity!

Lyrics from Midnight Song by Nietzsche

The fifth movement is more cheerful and features both a children’s chorus and an adult female chorus joining in with the alto soloist. This movement is based on “Es sungen drei Engel”, one of Mahler’s Des Knaben Wunderhorn songs, (whose text itself is loosely based on a 17th-century church hymn, which Paul Hindemith later used in its original form in his Symphony “Mathis der Maler”) about the redemption of sins and comfort in belief. The children’s choir sings the song, imitating bells, and eventually, the female chorus joins in, along with the alto solo.

Ding, dong, ding, dong…
Three angels sang so sweet a song;
Resounding joyfully through Heaven,
They shouted with delight
That St. Peter was free of sin,
And when Lord Jesus sat at the table,
For the Last Supper with His twelve disciples,
Lord Jesus spoke: What doest thou here?

As I behold thee, thou weepest before me?
And shall I not weep, thou merciful God?
You must not then weep!
I have broken the Ten Commandments.
I go my way with bitter tears.
Ah, come and have mercy on me!
If thou has broken the Ten Commandments,
Then fall on thy knees and pray to God!
Only love God at all times!
So shalt thou aspire to heavenly joy.
The Kingdom of Heaven was readied for Peter
And all, through Jesus, for blessedness,
Ding, dong, ding, dong…

The text of Mahler’s Wunderhorn song, “Es sungen drei Engel” is based on an anonymous 17th-century church hymn

This takes us into the finale. The final movement, marked Adagio, begins very softly (there are some recordings you really have to turn up the volume to hear) in a broad D-major chorale melody, played by the string section, that slowly builds over nearly 20 minutes (sometimes more!), to a magnificent and glorious conclusion culminating on repeated D major chords and bold statements on two sets of timpani. It’s an astoundingly beautiful conclusion to a marvelous work! Much more can be said, but does it need to be said?

Conclusion

Bruno Walter commented on the finale, in particular, with the following:

“In the last movement, words are stilled—for what language can utter heavenly love more powerfully and forcefully than music itself? The Adagio, with its broad, solemn melodic line, is, as a whole—and despite passages of burning pain—eloquent of comfort and grace. It is a single sound of heartfelt and exalted feelings, in which the whole giant structure finds its culmination.”

The symphony was premiered in pieces. Arthur Nikisch conducted the second movement, then presented as Blumenstück (Flower Piece), with the Berlin Philharmonic on November 9, 1896. Felix Weingartner presented the second, third, and sixth movements with the Royal Orchestra, in Berlin, on March 9, 1897. Finally, with Luise Geller-Wolter singing the alto solos, Mahler himself conducted the first complete performance at the Festival of the Allgemeiner deutscher Musikverein at Krefeld on June 9, 1902.

The last movement, in particular, achieved triumphant critical success. The Swiss music critic William Ritter said, in his review of the premiere given in 1902, “Perhaps the greatest Adagio written since Beethoven!” Another critic writing in the Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung wrote about the Adagio: “It rises to heights which situate this movement among the most sublime in all symphonic literature.” Mahler was called back to the podium 12 times, and the local newspaper reported that “the thunderous ovation lasted no less than fifteen minutes.”

If you want to hear Mahler’s astounding Third Symphony, the Erie Philharmonic will perform the work on January 20th, 2024, at the Warner Theater in Erie, PA. More information here: https://www.eriephil.org/calendar/mahler

Recordings

This might be my favorite part. While I struggle with the research portion of these articles, rewriting things written by better writers than I, I do so enjoy delving into the recordings of whatever work I’m featuring. One thing that surprised me with this one was just how many recordings exist. Even though the 3rd is one of the longest symphonies out there, it has been recorded by many of the world’s major orchestras and conductors. Here are a few recordings I can recommend (if you can’t make it to a live performance).

The recording I listened to the most while I was researching the 3rd was this one:

Beyond the fact that this live recording was so well done, one thing that surprised me the most was how long Maestro Abbado was able to hold off the applause at the end. Of the various live recordings I reviewed, not many can pull that off. The ending is such that it would be VERY difficult to hold back once the last notes faded. It’s one of those symphonies that belongs (and is likely on) one of those lists ranking the “Best Endings in Classical Music.” In such matters, Mahler was an expert.

Another conductor whose works I very much enjoy is Rafael Kubelik. Also, during my research, I’ve noticed that with many recordings of Mahler’s 3rd, there seems to be something extra special about a Live recording. I’m not saying they’re perfect, but many of them have something that I can’t quite put my finger on, and regardless of how the conductor and orchestra pull off the interpretation overall or cover some of the more minor details, it’s still quite the thing to listen to something recorded without the safety net of a studio. Here’s one such recording featuring Rafael Kubelik and the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra.

What list of recordings of a Mahler symphony would be complete without one by Leonard Bernstein? Here’s one of the remastered recordings from Sony Classical with Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic. Having listened to quite a few recordings throughout the research process for this article, I do like how this one sounds. You can tell it went through a remastering process, but I’d have to hear the original to be 100% sure it actually makes a difference. Still, it’s another good one and well worth a listen.

Here’s another great recording. This one is by Georg Solti and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. The part linked below is just the sixth movement, and I would recommend checking out the rest. Solti’s take on Mahler’s music is one that I enjoy, and his take on the Eighth Symphony is spectacular. Check it out!

I’m sure there are many more recordings out there equally worthy of a recommendation, but these are the ones that stood out for me, with the Abbado live recording in Lucerne as my current favorite.

Thank you for your time, Dear Reader, and I look forward to seeing you back again when we feature another marvelous work. Until then!

Additional Reading

Mahler’s Third Symphony: A Progression to the Divine

Symphony No. 3

Listening Guide – Symphony No. 3 Intro