Mahler 1 is OK
Posted December 2, 2021
A few weeks ago I played Mahler’s Symphony No. 1 in D major, “Titan,” with the Boston Symphony Orchestra. Although I don’t dislike it, Mahler 1 has always been by least favorite of his symphonies.
My initial criticism of the work was that the dramaturgy does not make sense and its German engineering is lacking. But after a week of study and performance I would amend that thesis to say that the dramaturgy does not make sense and its German engineering credentials are only somewhat lacking, and that the piece, despite its many catchy tunes, does not play itself. And this in turn puts more of the onus of blame on conductors than the composer for un-affecting performances of Mahler 1.
At its most basic level Mahler 1 is a journey from darkness to light, in which a good deal of dark and mysterious material from the first movement, especially the slow introduction, is transformed into triumphant hymns and fanfares in the last movement. A bit clichéd perhaps, but it all comes down to execution.
My primary problem is with the second and third movements, which are absolutely lovely and in fact my favorite movements of the symphony, but, they do almost nothing to either deepen the darkness or to solve the (non-existent) emotional or harmonic problems left from the first movement. (I say “almost nothing” instead of “nothing” because the third movement, probably by mere coincidence, does contain a motivic kernel that is important to the outer movements, as shall be explained further.) They function more or less as interludes in a cyclical, end-weighted, teleological symphony, which is a problem in a cyclical, end-weighted, teleological symphony.
My secondary problem, which I just hinted at, is that for a dark-to-light work, the first movement isn’t very dark! A slow introduction, but not an especially terrifying one, and one later passage of sturm-und-drang are more than balanced out by vernal joy. Furthermore, there are no, at least to my ears and my study, any pressing harmonic or motivic “problems” from the first movement that hang ominously over the inner movements and are “solved” in the final movement.
That being said, there is one motivic idea and one harmonic idea in the first movement that do weigh heavily on the last movement and show themselves as problems to be solved, but they appear as problems only retroactively once they show up in the last movement!
They are 1) a threatening ascending three-note motif (the first three notes of the minor scale) which just so happens to be the first three notes of the minor-mode “Frere Jacques” of the 3rd movement. This is the “motivic kernel” mentioned earlier. But for the third movement I think this is a mere coincidence and not, for Mahler, consciously motivic in nature.
and 2) extremely long pedal points.
The extremely long pedal points bring us into the discussion of German-engineering, by which I mean compositional craft generally and more specifically something like fractal geometry in which small-scale harmonies, particular enharmonic notes, motives, or melodic contours also have ramifications and sometimes even full blown iterations at the macro-level so as to create a symmetry and synthesis between the surface level and the structural. This sort of compositional craft, of engineering, is a trademark of the German compositional tradition.
But Mahler 1 doesn’t have much of that sort of engineering. (Common-tone-diminshed-7th chords are used in a few different places, and a handful of motives get transformed, but nothing that seems to bear great structural or dramatic significance.)
However, the long-pedals are truly remarkable and a distinctive feature of this piece. They are something that makes it special and unique and I think they contain the meaning of Mahler 1. They create, or can create, the suspense, drama, and darkness from which we emerge triumphant. But too often they are left as mere background while the plentiful melodies and motives that waft by get all of the conductor’s, and our, attention. There is a particular anxiety and pressure that comes from giving primacy, if not in decibels at least in attention and intention, to long pedals. Every good organist knows this from playing Bach.
And these, my friends, are long LONG, pedals.
In Georg Solti’s recording with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, the first movement (with the repeat taken, as it should be) begins with nearly 8 minutes of an A pedal or an A major chord iterated on every down beat (the same as a pedal in my book). The slow intro accounts for 3:43 of that, the subsequent main body of the movement starts with about 15 seconds of D major (the key of the symphony) before modulating back to A, then there’s about fifteen seconds of E major chords (the dominant of A) before rocking out on A again (the dominant of D), and taking the repeat (which goes back to the main body, not the slow intro). That portion, slow-introduction-plus-exposition-with-repeat comes to precisely 7:55, of which only 55 seconds is not an A pedal. That’s astounding, and a particularly astounding was to start a symphony, and one’s first symphony at that. I think conductors often make the mistake of relaxing too much in the 15 seconds of D major, and then follow that up by staying just as relaxed when A major rolls along, when in fact the excitement should be heightened at that point.
The second long pedal of note is in the last movement. This is a C major pedal which in Solti’s recording can be found from 11:53-16:22. It lasts 4:29 and it especially remarkable because
1) it persists through three different sections/types of music. Having one bass note outlast multiple types of music like that will ratchet up the tension big time. It’s in a way saying, those forest murmurs and whispered sweet nothings, nature and love itself cannot outpace death and the march of time. Shakespeare’s 65th Sonnet is recalled:
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea
But sad mortality o’er-sways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
Now that is not the last word for Shakespeare, nor for Mahler, but that’s what we’re up against.
2) What in the world is a four-and-a-half minute C major pedal doing in a D minor/major movement !? Technically it is the dominant of F minor, which is a third above D and therefore not very far at all for a late Romantic composer who likes moving by thirds. And this movement actually began with moderately long C pedal before settling into F minor, and this C pedal is in fact leading again to F minor for the recap. But more interesting is what happens before the C pedal.
In the exposition, after the gorgeous second theme there is a long G major pedal (I didn’t count) which is a massive buildup to C, and in a famous feat of harmonic daring, Mahler eschews the coming C major with D major! It is glorious, but premature, and fades away to the first-movement-slow-intro-music, this time in D minor, and then slips down to C major, back to the key which had been deflected and avoided, but must ultimately be dealt with.
That is what I would call good dramaturgy and good craft, but it is so often missed by conductors, and really has to be set up by all the previous pedals so that we understand the language of the symphony and where the tension and anxiety comes from - the pedals!
Of note here, speaking of dramaturgy, is what might be a stroke of genius on Mahler’s part, but it is very subtle and perhaps another coincidence. In the first movement, 4 bars before rehearsal 20, there is a G major chord, heading towards C, which is instead deflected to F. That may be a hint towards the last movement’s G major pedal massive build up to C, which is then eschewed for D major. Who knows? But both are great moments and in this case I would interpret them as having a relationship.
Solti’s recording has been referenced here, and he is a fantastic reference for Mahler and also my first go-to, but I think he misses on the pedals and doesn’t do Mahler 1 justice. I didn’t have time to listen to twenty recordings of Mahler 1 (who does) and find a favorite, but generally I like Honeck’s recordings with the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, Abbado’s with Berlin, and to hear a colleague and friend of Mahler who would have had first hand guidance from the composer - and an orchestra that was actually conducted by Mahler, go to Bruno Walter with the New York Philharmonic.