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MAHLER -
SYMPHONY No. EIGHT
Gustav Mahler
composed his Eighth Symphony
during the summer of 1906,
taking only six weeks for
the task-although he was
conducting at Salzburg in
the same period. The work
received its first
performance, under the
composer’s direction, in a
specially built hall at
Munich. By then - 1910 - the
entirely different Ninth
Symphony had been composed.
The triumphant reception of
the Eighth meant much to
Mahler, for he regarded
humanity at large as its
dedicatee: here was
enshrined his ideal vision
of a world which reached
spontaneously out to God and
which was nourished in
return by fresh and
perpetually renewed
communion with the Infinite.
Mahler’s
Fifth, Sixth and Seventh
Symphonies had been purely
orchestral, but with the
Eighth he returned to the
general mood of the Second,
particularly the last
movement. This time,
however, he found it
necessary to use large vocal
resources throughout the
work, for in the Eighth he
had a specific message to
communicate and the essence
of his artistic contract
with himself involved a
sustained mutuality between
choir, soloists and
orchestra.
The two
movements are complementary,
the first being a setting of
the patristic medieval hymn
- Veni, creator spiritus,
and the second a realisation
of the closing scene from
Part II of Goethe’s Faust.
Those who have quibbled over
the use of Latin in the
first movement and German in
the second are surely boxing
with shadows. Mahler, always
an extremely self-aware
person, actually knew his
business! What he was after
was to emphasize the
spiritual unity binding the
early church into unforced
union with one of Europe’s
greatest humanists. He
spotted the patristic
symbolism in the closing
scene of Faust and grasped
the remarkable
correspondence of Goethe’s
vision with that of Hrabanus
Maurus in the 9th century.
Here, in a form which all
could be made to comprehend,
was proof of the central
concept of Mahler’s
philosophy - the
impregnation of the entire
creative process by a Spirit
none could escape and with
whom all could claim
identity.
The sheer
scale of the work, together
with the multitude of
singers and instrumentalists
which it demands, led to the
label ‘Symphony of a
Thousand’. Mahler deprecated
this - and we should do the
same, for the description is
both false and misleading:
false because the work can
be admirably performed by
much less than a thousand
artists, misleading because
the forces which are
required are part and parcel
with the composer's
conception and are not an
extraneous phenomenon for us
to gape at. Ear more to the
point is the infinite skill
and the precision of ear
with which Mahler
manipulates choir, soloists
and orchestra. The score
calls for piccolo, 4 flutes,
4 oboes, cor anglais, 3
clarinets, E flat clarinet,
bass clarinet, 4 bassoons,
double bassoon, 8 horns, 4
trumpets, 4 trombones, bass
tuba, 3 timpani, bass drum,
cymbals, gong, triangle,
bells, glockenspiel,
celesta, pianoforte,
harmonium, organ, 2 harps,
mandoline and the usual
strings. Yet as we listen we
are continually aware, not
of masses of rich sonority,
but rather of an exceptional
range of varied and
contrasted colour-blends
whose every constituent
stand can be detected.
Precision, not weight, is
the dominant impression. So,
too, with the vocal
participants. These are
split into two choirs, boys’
choir and eight soloists.
But their use is so
disciplined that only in
rare outbursts of calculated
vehemence do we meet a
dynamic gale head on. The
general run of the score
calls for a scrupulous
balancing of selected vocal
and instrumental elements,
presenting the rich
emotional and spiritual
content of Mahler’s chosen
texts with a variety of
palette designed to drive
home the inexhaustible
nuances of the composer’s
poetic and spiritual vision.
It is the central miracle of
this work that it brings us
a cosmic experience in terms
of infinite variety.
Some
detractors have questioned
the title ‘Symphony’ for a
choral work of two
movements. Once again,
Mahler knew what he was
about. Granted the essential
premise that, for him, vocal
and instrumental forces had
equal validity for the
projection of symphonic
argument, we can discern
thematic processes and
cyclic motions of
inter-related musical
particles which, operating
over the entire work,
justify the term ‘symphony’
rather than any other. The
most signihcant of these
thematic weavings will be
commented upon in a moment:
what needs to be emphasized,
in a necessary general
pre-view, is the prodigious
but recognisable, sonata
structure of the first
movement and the steady
undertone which pulls the
second movement into the
ambience of the first.
After
Beethoven’s Ninth the
symphony could never be
regarded as a form of
unchanging symmetries.The
affmities between Mahler and
Beethoven are subtle but
real. Psychologically, of
course, the two were poles
apart, but an artist so
perceptive as Mahler and a
man so profoundly aware of
Europe’s cultural heritage
as he - prince of conductors
and master of the Vienna
State Opera at its zenith -
could not escape influences
from so dominant a source.
If Beethoven had never
composed his Ninth we would
not have had either the
Second or the Eighth of
Mahler in anything like
their present form. Proudly
individual as both works
are, there lies at their
cafe-particularly in the
Eighth - a residuum of
inherited tradition which
links Mahler, even in the
moments of his grandest
exaltation - with the great
ones of the past whoin he
served with such devotion as
conductor and expositor. One
special point needs making
in this context: Mahler was
a polyphonist. ‘There is no
harmony-only counterpoint’,
he would say, and the Eighth
achieves its striking
clarity of texture because
it is contrapuntally
conceived. In this crucial
respect, too, Mahler looked
well back, over the
shoulders of his
contemporaries and immediate
predecessors, to yet another
tradition. Many an early
baroque composer would have
relished Mahler’s handling
of choral units and
sub-units in the Eighth.
First
Movement.
Allegro impetuoso is
the significant injunction
at the start of this paean.
As the double choir burst in
upon the chord of E flat,
announced by organ. woodwind
and bass strings, we hear in
swift succession three
motifs which are to control
most subsequent developments
- the choral repeated chords
on the word spiritus,
a splendid theme on the
trombone, and a rising
sequence on the trumpets. It
is typical of Mahler’s
method to telescope such
material in hectic urgency
and then to weave an
elaborate tissue revealing
the fantastic possibilities
lurking in the simplest
statements. A string motive
in B flat also deserves
notice, for it supplies
animation for the forward
propulsion of Mahler’s
ecstatic projection of his
text. Veni is the
cry - repeated in
ever-widening dimensions of
dynamic and perspective. The
choirs echo it as clouds
echo thunder. This whole
opening episode is Mahler at
his most elemental, yet
every note makes its effect,
nothing is blurred.
A fortissimo Veni
eventually fades, by way of
a wondrous cadence, to pianissimo,
while a held A flat in the
bass is revealed as the
dominant of a new key-D
flat. This ushers in an
exquisite passage for vocal
quartet with the words Imple
superna gratia.
Interweaving of woodwind,
voices, organ, horns and
strings produces tonal
effects of startling beauty.
Soon the chorus takes over
in support of the quartet,
and then, suddenly, we are
returned to the basic
opening material, but this
time amplified and
elaborated.
Again the mood
changes, this time for a
sombre D minor episode infirma
nostri corporis, in
which a solo violin plays an
expressive obbligato as the
choirs hymn in antiphon. The
horns intrude with a
statement ofthe early
trombone motif and an
agitated orchestral texture
is built up, subsiding
eventually to a moving
re-statement of the infirma
nostris corporis
material, this time
employing eight vocalists
against broken commentary by
woodwind and strings.
This eloquent
instance of Mahler’s
contrapuntal virtuosity
prepares the path for the
movement’s fulcrum - a
triumphant episode at the
words Accende lumen
sensibus, dominated by
a motif which the second
movement is to further
reveal as the archstone of
the work’s thematic
structure.
The brightness
of E major pervades textures
woven from the three opening
themes, and a modulation to
E flat brings a reiteration
of the initial petition Veni,
creator spiritus -
even more splendid in
texture and dynamics than in
its original context. Soon
we are launched into a
mighty double fugue in
Mahler’s favourite march
rhythm, and so the way is
made clear for a true
recapitulation at the words
praevio te ductore sic
vitemus. The noble Gloria
can be seen as the logical
culmination of this
recapitulation, since it
uses much of the same
material in sublime
rhetoric.
Second
Movement.
Here are combined slow
movement, scherzo and
finale, in one mighty,
unbroken sequence, braced
into cogent unity by
thematic organisations
clearly based on material
heard in the opening hymn,
but transmuted by harmonic
and colouristic alchemy into
musical textures throbbing
with Germanic feeling -
Mahler’s response, both
intellectual and
instinctive, to the unique
blend of romantic sentiment,
spiritual perception and
transcendental imagery which
is enshrined in Part II of Faust.
Now the
soloists become Goethe’s
characters. Magna Peccatrix,
Una Poenitentium and Mater
Gloriosa are taken by
sopranos; Mulier Samaritana
and Maria Aegyptiaca by
alto, Doctor Marianum by the
tenor, Pater Estaticus by
the baritone and Pater
Profundus by the bass. In
these Goethe transmutes the
loves of Faust and Gretchen
into universalised drama;
personal and symbolic values
intermingle, and the search
for and ultimate discovery
of Truth is expressed in
terms of patristic imagery.
The first
movement is predominantly
choral. The second hnds the
orchestra playing a far more
insistent role; its constant
projection of a subtle
thematic web gives life and
unity of argument. The tone
throughout is more
ruminative; only repeated
listening can reveal all the
complexity of Mahler’s
thought-hence the special
value of a recording. The
quality of this protracted
argument is speculative;
only towards the close does
the extrovert utterance of
triumphant proclamation
assert itself. The brooding
atmosphere of Goethe’s
opening stanzas is perfectly
matched by Mahler; at the
start of this movement, and
for quite a time, we feel in
a different world from the
first movement, so profound
is Mahler’s transmutation of
his basic material. As the
path ascends, and we climb
it with Goethe’s characters,
so the mists unfold to
reveal a world of
transcendant light - the
light of the Holy Spirit
invoked in the work’s
opening bars. No symphony
moves by more mysterious
paths to close the circle of
its own thought; nor has any
celebrated the ultimate
discovery of its own
self-consistency with more
potent revelation of the
power latent in its original
thematic cells. The quality
of thought in this movement
is Germanic, and the
techniques employed are
those derived from Mahler's
long study and communion
with the major symphonic
works of his immediate
precursors.
The movement
begins with an orchestral
section - poco adagio
- in the key of E flat
minor. Two themes, announced
at once, dominate the
texture for a while: the
first to be heard - on
cellos and basses, very
softly - will, indeed,
pervade the entire movement.
It is a modification of the
Accende lumen motif
from the first movement.
Now, and for a time, it
shows its dark side. The
other theme is heard on
flutes and clarinets - full
of yearning. These motifs
have in common a cell of
three consecutively rising
notes-the heart of the Accende
motif At first their aura
seems far removed from the
confident thrust of Accende,
but Mahler controls the
elaborate and ever-varied
treatment of these themes in
such a way that the three
crucial notes eventually
swing into statements of
inexorable triumph.
The subdued
and infinitely subtle
orchestral introduction
prepares the way for the
choir’s opening stanza - a
softly mysterious invocation
of the forest - with
marvellous echo effects, as
two sets of Anchorites
answer each other in
Goethe’s wild and remote
setting. For Pater
Ecstaticus’ first invocation
of love - Ewiger
Wonnebrand - we move
to E flat, with the strings
playing a rich version of
the two main themes, now
welded into a continuous
melodic line. Then with
Pater Profundus taking us to
a different view of the
power of love, a vision cast
in imagery of forest, flood
and stream, Mahler returns
to E flat minor, with
trumpets and horns blazing
extensions of the Accende
motif whilst strings and
woodwind paint Goethe’s
scene with jagged hgures and
vivid flashes of colour.
Pater Profundus’ final
appeal O Gott!
beschwichtige die
Geedanken, Erleuchte mein
bedurftige Herz! is
supremely eloquent: this
work is about enlightenment,
and the word Erleuchte
brings us the Accende
motif yet again.
We are now at
the movement’s central
crisis: Pater Profundus'
plea is answered by a choir
of Angels,with a sublime
change of key to B major
and, at the vital assertion
Gerettet ist das edle
Glied, with a direct
quotation of the full Accende
theme. So the world’s of
Goethe and Hrabanus Maurus
are united by Mahler’s
imaginative power. Und
hat an ihm die Liebe gar
finds the Accende
motif united with the one
heard hrst on woodwind in
the opening bars: Mahler’s
grip on his basic material
is tighter than ever, but
the dark search of the
movement’s beginning has now
changed to confident
jubilation, with the release
of exultant energies and
colours. Earlier material is
bedecked with ecstatic
trills, climbing, it seems,
into the empyrean.
Before long,
however, there is a
modulation to G and then to
E flat, for a gentler
episode as the Choir of
Young Angels remind us of
Mahler’s most innocent mood
in the stanza beginning Jene
Rosen. Once again the
mood becomes more reflective
for the More Perfect Angels,
whose meditation carries
evocative obbligati for solo
viola and solo violin. For
Doctor Marianus’ Hier
ist die Aussicht frei,
sung in fellowship with the
Younger Angels and the
Blessed Youths, Mahler
modulates from G to B, and
then E, varying his textures
with astonishing orchestral
colourings. With the crucial
address to the Virgin - Jung
frau, rein im schönsten
Sinn we find the Accende
motif most nobly evident.
In the chorus
of Penitent Women and the
solos of Magna
Peccatrix and Mulier
Samaritana Mahler's
unsurpassed human sympathy
asserts magical sway, and
this quality of tender
insight pervades the
delicately textured music
for Maria Aegyptiaca’s
recall of the Saviour’s
loneliness and the equally
moving passage for the Three
Women together. It is with
the appeal of Una
Poenitentium Vergönne
mire, ihn zu belehren,
Noch blendet ihn der Neu
Tag that Mahler swings
the current of his musical
thought back to B flat as
Mater Gloriosa makes the
final plea which links
Goethe’s argument with the
first movement’s Latin hymn:
Komm! Hebe dick zu
hoheren Sphären. The
supremely eloquent vocal
line is exquisitely
supported by very soft
strands of colour-note
especially the harp in
unison with the first flute.
So the way is prepared for
Doctor Marianus’ prayer and
the sublime final scene, in
which Mahler’s vast
contrapuntal structure
recalls the work’s entire
course, uniting Goethe’s Das
Ewige-Weibliche Zieht uns
hinan with
Maurus’ Veni, Creator
Spiritus.
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