Gustav Mahler
(Kalischt, July 7, 1860 - Vienna, May 19, 1911)
Mahler and his symphonic cycle are among the most beautiful and important ever. Everyone may prefer whichever symphony they believe; they are all masterpieces. My favorite is this one!
Gustav Mahler's Eighth Symphony, called the “Symphony of a Thousand,” composed in only eight weeks in the summer of 1906, and so named for the enormous number of people involved, between choruses and orchestras, concludes—as in the Lisztian symphony—with the text from Goethe's Faust II, such is the greatness and moving nature of its beauty:
Everything that passes
is only a figure.
That which is unattainable
here becomes evident.
That which is unspeakable
here is fulfilled
The eternal Feminine Element
drives us upward.
« (...) I have just finished my Eighth. It is the greatest thing I have done so far (…) Try to imagine that the universe begins to produce music and resonate. They are no longer human voices, but planets and suns rotating. (...)
It is a gift to the Nation (…). My other works are tragic and subjective. This one is a great dispenser of joy (…). It was like a lightning vision: suddenly everything stood before my eyes (…). By chance, an old book recently fell into my hands, and I opened it to the hymn “Veni creator spiritus,” and suddenly everything stands before me: not just the first theme, but the entire first movement.»
It can be said, with good reason, that the great German symphonic corpora opened with Beethoven's nine symphonies and concluded with Mahler's nine—the tenth remained incomplete. By a historical-cultural coincidence, these two great composers find themselves at opposite ends of a musical process that lasted practically a century and, very significantly, their work was characterized by a clear and unmistakable will to express a message that transcended music itself.
In Beethoven, a man living between the end of the 18th century and the beginning of the 19th, detached from Enlightenment ideas, the message was of a universal character. “From the heart, may it reach other hearts,” this phrase which the composer wrote at the beginning of the score of his “Missa Solemnis,” can well summarize the message and the spirit of much of his art, and of the symphonies in particular.
In Mahler, living between the end of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th—a historical period where great illusions had already irremediably set and where a certain, increasingly markedly creeping “mal di vivere” [weariness of life] emerged, tragically marking the end of an era—it was the most intimate, most personal pain that was set to music through his Symphonies.
An exception is this Eighth Symphony which, it can be said with good reason, returned fully to that typically Beethovenian spirit of universality and brotherhood. In it, in fact, Mahler succeeded in stepping out of the realm of his own personal sufferings to pronounce an impulse of love, to call peoples to a universal embrace. History, during that period, was already beyond appeal, headed in a catastrophic direction, but the composer wanted, at least for an instant of his tormented life, not to resign himself, and in an extreme act he turned to the entire human race to try to make them understand: « great things » as an alternative to the individualistic crisis. His Symphony unfolds in two parts: the first centered on the medieval text of “Veni creator spiritus,” the second on the final scene of Goethe's “Faust II.” The great composer did not so much invoke the Holy Spirit of religious orthodoxy, but saw in the link that joins the two texts « a loving driving principle of the universe » which is invoked in a crucial passage of the first movement:
It kindles light for the senses
infuses love into hearts
and which made him trace back—as can be seen in a letter addressed to his wife Alma—to Plato, only to recognize it again in Goethe.
The great conductor Bruno Walter, a close personal friend of the composer, said: « (…) Goethe shone like a sun in the sky of his spiritual world. »
The following year, in 1907, things for Mahler unfortunately took an irremediable turn for real: the death of his little daughter and shortly thereafter the discovery of heart failure that would lead to his death four years later; and, understandably, the composer returned with his great “Ninth,” with “Das Lied von der Erde” (The Song of the Earth), and with the Adagio of his unfinished Tenth to his most extreme pessimism.