No. 218 of the ongoing ITYWLTMT series series of audio montages can be found in our archives at https://archive.org/details/pcast218 |
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This week’s
Friday Blog and Podcast should really be a Sunday Blog and Podcast, as I
chose to defer my bi-monthly podcast offering to coincide with Easter Sunday,
and share a great work for your listening pleasure.
In past
years – because we issue our podcasts on Fridays, we have had our fair share of
“Good Friday” suggestions – be it Dupré’s Way of the Cross, or
Beethoven’s Christ at the Mount of Olives. This year, however, I wanted
to provide a more up-beat offering, one that brings to a close the Lenten
season with a bang!
Gustav
Mahler’s family
came from eastern Bohemia, then part of the Austrian Empire. The Mahler
homestead was in a village halfway between Prague in Bohemia and Brno in
Moravia, in the geographic center of today's Czech Republic. The Mahlers
belonged to a German-speaking minority among Bohemians, and was also Jewish –
religiously, Mahler has been described as a life-long agnostic. At one point he
converted to Catholicism, purely for the purpose of obtaining the directorship
of the Court Opera of Vienna as it was unthinkable for a Jew to hold such a
prestigious position.
Mahler may
not have been a practicing Christian, but he was in many ways very spiritual,
not unlike Brahms. Much of Mahler’s compositions, and in particular the
latter works after the Annus horribilis of 1907 – one that saw the death
of his daughter Maria from Scarlet Fever and his diagnosis of heart problems –
show his humanist side. His so-called tragic symphony and the Kindertottenlieder
are works that are particularly indicative of this period of personal turmoil.
In other
symphonic works, Mahler does borrow hymns from the Christian faith – for
example, Veni Creator is at the heart of the first movement of his Symphony
of a Thousand, and a chorale by Friedrich Klopstock, "Resurrection
Ode," that he heard sung at the funeral of the conductor Hans von Bülow.
This ode, with additional lyrics by the composer, forms the climax of his second
symphony, which is the single work on today’s Easter podcast.
The genesis
for the Resurrection symphony isn’t von Bülow ‘s funeral, but rather a
1988 tone poem he called Todtenfeier (Funeral Rites). Leaving it for a
few months to complete his Symphony No. 1, he finished his funeral piece in
September of that year. By 1893 he had decided the piece was really part of a
symphony--and he found he had ideas from previous compositions to apply to it.
The
third-movement scherzo is based on the theme from the song "Des Antonius
von Padua Fischpredigt" (Antony of Padua's Sermon to the Fish), written
for Des Knaben Wunderhorn. The fourth is another song,
"Urlicht" (Primal Light), that he used in its entirety, with voice,
and withheld from the Wunderhorn collection.
This brings
us back to the von Bülow (who had not liked the Todtenfeier when
Mahler had played it for him years earlier) and his funeral. As Mahler told a
friend, "It struck me like lightning ... and everything was revealed to my
soul clear and plain." Mahler took part of Klopstock's poem and wrote
additional poetry to go with it, building his final movement toward this
culminating text. He completed the symphony in 1894, and though he continued to
adjust the score well into 1909, it was first performed under Mahler's baton by
the Berlin Philharmonic in December, 1895. It was the only one of his
symphonies that was truly successful in his lifetime.
Otto
Klemperer (1885 - 1973) met Gustav Mahler while conducting the off-stage brass
at a performance of Mahler's Resurrection Symphony, serving as an assistant to
Oskar Fried in 1905. Klemperer and Mahler became friends.
Mahler
wrote a short testimonial, recommending Klemperer for a conducting position at
the German Opera in Prague in 1907, on a small card which Klemperer kept for the
rest of his life. Later, in 1910, Klemperer assisted Mahler in the premiere of
his Symphony No. 8, Symphony of a Thousand.
Klemperer
went on to hold a number of positions, in Hamburg (1910–1912); in Barmen
(1912–1913); the Strasbourg Opera (1914–1917); the Cologne Opera (1917–1924);
and the Wiesbaden Opera House (1924–1927). From 1927 to 1931, he was conductor
at the Kroll Opera in Berlin.
In 1933,
once the Nazi Party had reached power, Klemperer, who was of Jewish descent,
left Germany and moved to the United States. (Like Mahler, Klemperer had
previously converted to Catholicism, but returned to Judaism at the end of his
life). In the U.S. he was appointed Music Director of the Los Angeles
Philharmonic and took United States citizenship in 1937. After completing the
1939 Los Angeles Philharmonic summer season at the Hollywood Bowl, Klemperer
was visiting Boston and was diagnosed with a brain tumor; the subsequent brain
surgery to remove "a tumour the size of a small orange" left him
partially paralyzed. The following years of declining health and alcohol abuse
came to a head in the early 1950s - a severe fall during a visit to Montreal in
1951 forced Klemperer to remain there for a year (during which he advised the
Montreal Symphony). Subsequently, he needed to conduct seated in a chair.
Klemperer’s
left-wing views made him increasingly unpopular with the US State Department
and FBI: in 1952 the United States refused to renew his passport. In 1954
Klemperer again returned to Europe, and acquired a German passport. His career
was turned around in 1954 by the London-based producer Walter Legge, who
recorded Klemperer conducting Beethoven, Brahms and much else with his
hand-picked orchestra, the Philharmonia, for the EMI label. He became the first
principal conductor of the Philharmonia in 1959.
Klemperer’s
recording of the Mahler Second, with the Philharmonia, is my choice for this
week. The power of Klemperer's 1960s readings arises from constantly pressing
forward with no pause for sentiment. Klemperer achieves a great sense of unity
but only through a tortured psychic journey.
In closing,
a small caveat. Following the opening movement, Mahler calls in the score
for a gap of five minutes before the second movement. This pause is rarely
observed today. Often conductors will meet Mahler half way, pausing for a few
minutes while the audience takes a breather and settles down and the orchestra
retunes in preparation for the rest of the piece. A practical way of following
Mahler's original indication is to have the two soloists and the chorus enter
the stage only after the first movement. This creates a natural separation
between the first movement and the rest of the symphony and also saves the
singers more than twenty minutes of sitting on stage.
We inserted
a short silence after the first movement in our podcast – under a minute.
Happy Easter!
I think you will love this music too.
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