Table of Contents
You may think of this blog post as a smorgasbord of information about Mahler’s Symphony No. 2 from which you can pick and choose what seems most relevant to you. Use the table of contents box above or just scroll through and see what catches your eye. The notes for each movement include a link to a corresponding podcast episode from a delightful series called “Embrace Everything.” These episodes are only about 40 minutes long and are packed with goodies. You’ll enjoy them and profit at the same time.
Introduction
On to the Second Symphony, finished in 1894 when Mahler was 34 and first performed the following year. After his struggle to get his first symphony recognized and performed in 1888, Mahler took six years to complete his second one. This work had an easier path to success once Mahler finally finished it. His life was complicated; he was no composer scribbling away in solitude. His fame rested on his abilities as a conductor, and the demands of that career severely limited his time to composer. Plus, he was working with a very demanding and critical superior, conductor Hans von Bülow, and he was constantly bombarded by the antisemitism of 19th-century Europe as he struggled for success in Czechoslovakia, Austria, and Germany. Antisemitic critics of his music used Richard Wagner’s loathsome theories on “the Jews” as a weapon, especially depending on Wagner’s Das Judentum in der Musik (Jewry in Music) as a framework to attack Mahler, arguing that Jewish composers could only mimic, not create true German art. Mahler described himself as “a Bohemian in Austria, an Austrian among Germans, and a Jew throughout the world—an intruder everywhere.” In 1897 Mahler would convert to Catholicism as an attempt to escape this hostility, a move he described as “changing his coat.” Alas, the move gave him little relief, as he was still viewed as essentially Jewish. And . . . he had a lot going on in his romantic life. We’ll leave it at that. It’s a wonder that the man wrote anything.
Mahler was very hesitant to assign any kind of programmatic ideas to his music, preferring that it speak for itself. However, after many consultations with friends he wrote notes on several of his symphonies, including this one. Later in his life he withdrew all of this material from publication. The most commonly-cited set of notes for his second symphony comes from a 1901 performance in Dresden. I quote his material in italics below and add my own supplementary material along with the podcast links:
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.
Podcast Episode–Movement One: “A Burning Denunciation of the Creator”
Second Movement: Andante
A blissful moment in the dear departed’s life and a sad recollection of his youth and lost innocence.
Podcast Episode–Movement Two: “A Sunbeam into Your Soul”
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.
I will add here that this movement contains thematic material from a song that Mahler had written for an earlier song cycle from Das Knaben Wunderhorn, “St. Anthony’s Sermon to the Fishes.” (See notes below on Movement #4 for more information about that source.) In that story the saint, disgusted by the lack of response from his human congregation, decides to preach to the fish in a nearby river. At first they seem to pay attention even with all of their faults: gluttony, debauchery, and sloth. But as soon as the sermon is finished they swim away, back to their old lives. The “Embrace Everything” episode is especially enlightening here.
Podcast Episode–Movement Three: “Never Did a Sermon So Please the Fish”
Fourth Movement: Alto solo. ‘Urlicht’ (Primeval Light) – from Des Knaben Wunderhorn
The stirring words of simple faith sound in his ears: “I come from God and I will return to God!”
I was determined to find the original source for this poem, and it’s taken some real rabbit-hole diving to find it. Here’s the story:
Publication of the book from which Mahler took the poem, Des Knaben Wunderhorn (The Youth’s Magic Horn), a collection of German folk songs, legends, tales and poems, took place at the time of Napoleon’s sweeping victories in the early 1800s over most of Europe, including Germany. National pride had taken a real hit, and two young Romantic poets took it upon themselves to remind their countrymen of a time when men were men, women were women, and dragons were dragons. As our great friend Wikipedia says, “Everything untouched by the negative impact of modern civilization in their eyes, was considered good and helpful for the Gesundung der Nation (Recovery of the Nation).” The two poet/collectors, Achim von Arnim and Clemens Brentano, felt quite free to tinker with the texts and even write their own material to make sure that everything conformed to their purposes. They didn’t do any field work but instead ransacked many written sources. This lack of personal interviewing was a point of contention between Arnim and Brentano on the one hand and the Brothers Grimm on the other, who were working at the same time and strongly of the opinion that they should function strictly as recorders of oral culture in their work of publishing fairy tales. In any case, many if not most German households owned a copy of Knaben, and Mahler was no exception. He set many of the texts to music over the course of his composing career and also used them in his choral symphonies. One source has said that there was a “steady cross-pollination” between Mahler’s songs and his symphonies.
Now for the poem itself, with the original German and the standard English translation:
| Urlicht O Röschen rot! Der Mensch liegt in größter Not! Der Mensch liegt in größter Pein! Je lieber möcht’ ich im 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 | Primeval Light O little red rose! Man lies in greatest need! Man lies in greatest pain! How I would rather be in heaven. There came I upon a broad path when came a little angel and wanted to turn me away. Ah no! I would not let myself be turned away! I am from God and shall return to God! The loving God will grant me a little light, Which will light me into that eternal blissful life! |
There are lots of ideas floating around about the meaning of this poem, but here’s what seems to make the most sense:
Mahler said that this is a type of poetry/song called a “a Totengebet, or prayer recited at the deathbed of a loved one. Mahler was no stranger to such scenes of grief. Eight of his 13 siblings had died in childhood, and his mother and father passed within months of each other a decade before Mahler began work on this song.”1 The poem in the original DKW collection has no such heading but simply lists the source from which it was taken. (You can find the digital version of the original German text if you’re obsessive enough.) The first line is addressed to the “little red rose,” that is, we assume, to the soul of the dying one, and then the rest of the poem has the soul describe his journey to heaven. The fact that it’s a “little” rose might signify that the soul is barely opened and therefore belongs to a child. The red color has nothing to do with passion or romantic love but rather with the humanity and vulnerability of the dying one.
The soul says that he would rather be in heaven than on earth with its great need and pain. There’s then a scene in which the soul is on a road, one presumes to heaven, but is met by a “little angel” who tries to stop him. But the soul will not allow himself to be turned away from heaven and expresses his confidence that God will give him the light to gain eternal life.
So who’s this “little angel”? I was reminded as I parsed through this poem of the final scene in The Pilgrim’s Progress when Christian and Hopeful are within sight of the Celestial City but are almost swept away by the waters of death symbolizing the fear and spiritual trials a believer may face in their final moments. That symbolism makes sense here too. I’ve also seen a reference to the Jewish Bible story in which Jacob, who will become the father of 12 sons who will in turn give their names to the 12 tribes of Israel, wrestles with an angel and says to him, “I will not let thee go unless thou bless me.” Who knows? The poem itself doesn’t say, and Mahler didn’t explain what the poem meant to him. We know he liked it and saw it as inspirational, but we have no explanation of how he interpreted each line.
All of the above raises the question of Mahler’s own religious beliefs, which were somewhat fuzzy. As noted above, he converted to Catholicism from his original Judaism for purely pragmatic reasons. His conversion didn’t happen until 1897, though, well after his writing of Symphony #2.. Mahler, like Beethoven, saw himself as spiritual but not religious, adhering more to the ideas of pantheism that found the divine in nature rather than in any specific creed. So he didn’t have a problem with changing the box he checked on the employment form, but he never set the “Credo” of the Mass to music, since that part of the liturgy specifically refers to a belief in Jesus Christ. He saw his music as a replacement for organized religion and pursued a somewhat agonized search for meaning during his life. His themes often concern life, death and resurrection.
Podcast Episode–Movement Four: “O Little Red Rose”
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.2
Podcast Episode–Movement Five: “With Wings I’ve Won for Myself”
Mahler had decided that he wanted to include some type of choral content in the final movement of his symphony (even though he was very intimidated by the thought that his work would be compared to Beethoven’s monumental Ninth). But he couldn’t decide on a text. Hans von Bülow, who died in 1894, had been a major (often very critical) influence in the younger man’s life. Mahler attended his mentor’s funeral, at which the hymn “Aufersteh’n“ with words by the German poet Frederick Klopstock was performed. Mahler said in a letter,
“The way in which I received the inspiration for this is deeply characteristic of the essence of artistic creation. For a long time I had been thinking of introducing the chorus in the last movement and only my concern that it might be taken for a superficial imitation of Beethoven made me procrastinate again and again. About this time [storied conductor Hans von] Bülow died, and I was present at his funeral. The mood in which I sat there, thinking of the departed, was precisely in the spirit of the work I had been carrying around within myself at that time. Then the choir, up in the organ loft, intoned the Klopstock ‘Resurrection’ chorale. Like a flash of lighting it struck me, and everything became clear and articulate in my mind.” 3
He used just the first two verses of the hymn written by Klopstock and then wrote the last verses himself. You may be wondering why Mahler didn’t just use the entire poem, thus saving himself the trouble of writing his own verses, but Klopstock’s final three stanzas are more firmly tied to Christian doctrine than Mahler cared for. The composer was so inspired that he got to work right away, noting down his initial ideas immediately upon arrival home from the service, and he was able to finish the whole movement in three weeks that summer. Mahler added six stanzas to Klopstock’s lines and substantially changed the meaning and focus of the original.
Here’s what he did use:
| Aufersteh’n, ja aufersteh’n wirst du, mein Staub, nach kurzer Ruh’! Unsterblich Leben! Unsterblich Leben will 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 | Rise again, yes, rise again, Will you, my dust, after a brief rest! Immortal life! Immortal life Will he who called you, give you. You are sown to bloom again! The Lord of the harvest goes And gathers sheaves, Us, who have died. |
Klopstock’s first two stanzas contain several specific scriptural references. First there is the phrase “my dust,” clearly echoing the creation story in the Jewish Bible book of Genesis: “And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.” (2:7 KJV) Then there’s a reference to the words in Jesus in the Christian New Testament: “Verily, verily I say unto you, unless a grain of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone; but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.” (John 12:24 KVJ) And a vision of the Last Judgment: “I’ll instruct the harvesters to pull up the thistles and tie them in bundles for the fire, then gather the wheat and put it in the barn.” (Matthew 13:30 The Message)
And now for Mahler’s verses:
| O glaube, mein Herz, o glaube: es geht dir nichts verloren! Dein ist, ja dein, was du gesehnt, dein, was du geliebt, was du gestritten! O glaube, du warst nicht umsonst geboren! Hast nicht umsonst gelebt, gelitten! Was entstanden ist, das muss vergehen! Was vergangen, aufersteh’n! 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 | O believe, my heart, O believe: Nothing is lost to you! Yours, yes yours, is what you desired Yours, what you have loved What you have fought for! O believe, You were not born for nothing! Have not lived for nothing, Nor suffered! What was created Must perish; What perished, rise again! Cease from trembling! Prepare yourself to live! O Pain, you piercer of all things, From you, I have been wrested! O Death, you conqueror of all things, Now, are you conquered! With wings which I have won for myself, In love’s fierce striving, I shall soar upward To the light which no eye has penetrated! I shall die in order to live. Rise again, yes, rise again, Will you, my heart, in an instant! What you have beaten [conquered], To God shall it carry you! |
Mahler immediately changes the focus to himself and his own personal beliefs. Whereas Klopstock’s emphasis is on what God will do for the dead, Mahler puts the onus on himself and what he must do. I think that the line “with wings which I have won for myself” is the key to Mahler’s thoughts in these stanzas. Everything in his life is the result of his own efforts, and “nothing is lost.” He has no interest in specific doctrine but in his individual striving towards finding meaning in his life. Notice all of the imperative verbs: “believe,” “cease,” “prepare,” “rise.” Mahler has the mezzo return, joined with a soprano voice, and they intertwine as the chorus enters after a tumultuous orchestral section at the beginning.
The chorus and orchestra rise to an almost unbearable climax, and then Mahler has the chorus drop out, leaving only the orchestra to end the symphony.
I’ve chosen to include one video of this symphony, a full performance by the Kölner Symphonie. (I absolutely refuse to post any performances conducted by Leonard Bernstein! What a ham!) There are divisions that you can follow if you want to zero in on just one movement. This isn’t a particularly famous recording, but the performances are excellent. (And no histrionics from the conductor.)
(c) Debi Simons
