Note: It would be a good idea to consult the chapters on ‘Music of the Romantic Period’, ‘The Symphony’,  ‘Sonata Form’ and ‘Rondo Form’ in the Study Area before studying this analysis.

Background and Overview

Following studies in piano and composition at the Vienna Conservatoire, from 1880 Gustav Mahler pursued a career as a conductor in a series of increasingly prestigious roles. By the time he came to write his First Symphony he held the post of second conductor at the Leipzig City Theatre. There is some debate as to the exact dates of composition, but general agreement seems to centre on the dates 1884-1888. Despite this, the first performance was not to take place until 20th November 1889, by which time Mahler had taken on the post of Artistic Director of the Royal Hungarian Opera. And so it was that the première was in Budapest, the composer himself conducting.

The performance was far from a success. Critically panned, the symphony was received with a mixture of disdain and incomprehension, particularly with regard to the 3rd and 4th movements. Mahler himself commented to Natalie Bauer-Lechner; “…my friends avoided me afterward; nobody dared talk to me about the performance and my work, and I went around like a sick person or an outcast …” It is undoubtedly for these reasons that the piece remained untouched for three years, only resurfacing for a second performance on 27th October 1893 in Hamburg, following substantial revision.

Following a warmer reception to the work, Mahler began to look forward to a change in fortunes as a composer, but alas this hope was short-lived, as further performances drew yet more criticism. This caused Mahler to make further changes, most noticeably the dropping of an entire movement, as well as the cutting of the previously descriptive programme notes. As a result, there appear various versions of the score, from the original “Symphonic Poem in two Parts” heard in Budapest, through the “Titan – a Tone Poem in Symphonic Form” in 5 movements as heard in Hamburg, to the version we finally know today, entitled simply “Symphony (Titan) in 4 movements”, ‘premièred’ in Berlin in 1896.

Mahler’s unorthodox compositional style is evident throughout this work. He said himself that “composing is like playing with building blocks, where new buildings are created again and again, using the same blocks, ” and nowhere is this more evident that in the First Symphony. The work is peppered with re-workings from his own Songs of a Wayfarer song-cycle as well as an arrangement of “Brüder Martin”, more commonly known to Anglophones as “Frères Jacques”. His use of traditional Sonata and Rondo Form throughout the work, however, point to his keen sense of tradition and musicology.

Presented in four movements, the first begins with a slow introduction before an altered Sonata Form that contains an interestingly extended development section. The largely joyful and exuberant Scherzo in Rondo Form leads us to a third movement Funeral March steeped in irony, also in Rondo Form. The fourth, and most substantial, movement contains a Dante-esque battle between hell and heaven, played out in an altered Sonata Form, leading us to an ultimately joyous and victorious conclusion.

Mahler had mixed blessings in his lifetime, becoming a phenomenally successful conductor at the Vienna Opera and yet experiencing bitter tragedy in his personal life. Firstly, his first daughter died at the age of four, followed in the same year by the diagnosis of terminal heart-disease. He was then forced to resign from his post, his conversion to Catholicism seemingly not enough for an increasingly anti-Semitic Vienna focussed on his Jewish ancestry. His music also suffered from this stigma, his 11 Symphonic works gaining little success or recognition. Following a period in New York he died at the age of 50, a bitter and defeated man, never hearing his 9th or unfinished 10th Symphonies performed.

Analysis

First movement: Langsam. Schleppend. Wie ein Naturlaut

The Symphony begins with a slowly building introduction, a unison A played in harmonics across all strings. The effect is ethereal and other-worldly, outlying from the very outset a mood of highly charged atmosphere. Mahler composed most of his symphonic material in isolation beside a lake and it has been noted that the high A heard in the first violins is the same frequency as the natural ringing of the ears which we perceive only when removed from all external noise. So it has been said that the start of Mahler's symphonic output emerged from the sound of silence itself.

The remaining material from the introduction switches between a nature theme of fourths heard in woodwinds and an awakening fanfare heard first on clarinet and then trumpets. Laced between these is a very rich and smooth horn melody in 3rds and 6ths [ first heard at 2:08 ].

Cuckoo calls in the clarinet appear through the awakening texture, a slowly rising chromatic figure in the ‘cellos and basses leading us to final cuckoo calls and the close of the introduction.

The rest of the movement follows the outline of traditional Sonata Form, albeit a twisted version. The material that begins the Exposition is taken from Mahler’s own leider ‘Ging heut morgen über’s Feld’ (‘Went this morning across the field’). The text from the original song is a pronouncement of life and love of nature, the music reflecting the general mood of high spirits whilst retaining a sense of the pastoral. The song theme acts as the first subject [ 3:50 ] heard in initially staccato and then smooth legato lines on ‘cellos.

A more pointed and angular secondary theme answers the first, introduced in pianissimo first violins.

The music flows between altered versions of these two musical ideas, a second subject being conspicuous in its absence. Instead the themes of the first subject build towards a fortissimo surging climax that calms through more cuckoo calls and into a direct repeat of the exposition.

The development that follows [ 8.12 ] can be clearly identified as containing three sections. The first begins with a differing version of the introduction with all trace of the fanfares removed. The tempo gradually slows as we reach a new mood for the second section, marked ‘Sehr gemächlich’ (very leisurely/unhurried) [ 10:57 ]. A new fanfare theme on the horns restores the mood of calm jubilance, ending the seemingly static nature of the development to this point.

A secondary theme full of splendour is then introduced, emerging at a slightly quicker tempo in the cellos.

The song melody returns in fragmentary excerpts, opening up through a variety of keys as it moves through D, A, Db, Ab, C and F major, leading us towards a much darker third developmental section [ 13:17 ], F minor very much to the fore. This section in itself appears to be out of context, resembling nothing heard so far and seemingly oblique in its juxtaposition. This material will not return until the Finale. This is an unusual device for symphonic writing of this time and can only be assumed to refer to some greater programmatic element; the idea that all is not as well as it may appear.

From this material emerges a gradual crescendo from ppp to fff as the whole orchestra slowly winds up the tension to a dramatic releasing climax of fanfare trumpets, echoed in horns and then woodwinds [ 14:30 ]. The way the music modulates from F minor to D major is unorthodox and has led commentators, most noticeably Paul Bekker and Theodore Adorno, to conclude that the violent and sudden nature of the change of material evokes a ‘breakthrough’, a device that Mahler employs a great deal in his compositions. The function of this breakthrough is to lead us to the recapitulation [ 14:40 ].

Mahler is well documented as challenging the idea of a direct recapitulation, suggesting that art, like life, must develop beyond the exact repetition and so here we find a classic example of this. The recapitulation is 15 bars shorter than the exposition, beginning with fortissimo fanfare horns before the song motifs return. The tempo marking is also faster, leading to a greater impression of reduction. It is therefore with a feeling of haste that we reach two bars scored for complete silence, before the following short and frantically hurried coda of only 8 bars [ 16:06 ]. This coda is seemingly tossed aside, as if in a moment of flippant frippery. Indeed, Mahler himself is documented as having Beethoven in mind, quoted by Constantin Floros in ‘Gustav Mahler – The Symphonies’ as remembering “how he broke into loud laughter and ran away”. Humour is not a mood that Mahler is often associated with, but certainly there is evidence of that part of his personality here.

Second movement: Kräftig bewegt (strongly moving)

The second movement, as heard in performances today, was originally conceived as being the third. The removal of the ‘Blumine’ movement helps to explain why we have a scherzo appearing in what one would correctly consider to be ‘a movement too soon’. Indeed, on the original manuscript the word Scherzo does indeed appear. The removal of this title helps to make sense of the movement structurally, for what we actually hear are three different dances in Rondo form, making the movement as a whole a mixture of ländler and a waltz.

Section A begins in boisterous mood, suggesting an everyday dance for the common people. We hear an animated call from the violins and violas as an introduction to the main event, woodwinds leading us through the joyful and life-affirming dance.

Underneath the main melodies of the A section, Mahler inserts a series of ostinato rhythms which, although only textural, contribute greatly to the feel.

This compositional device is another particular favourite of Mahler.  His use of ostinato is profound and can be seen to pepper all of his future symphonies.

Section B [ 1:28 ] has plenty in common with Section A, the most noticeable difference being the introduction of the third ostinato (example 2.2 above), hammered out in the second violins and violas. We also hear a continuing open 5th as a bass pedal on the notes C# and G# [ 1:45 ]. This in itself feels rooted in the tradition of folk music, particularly emphasised by the addition of a grace note, almost bringing to mind the scotch snap of bagpipe drones.

A climactic crescendo [ 2:24 ] slowly releases us through some unusual harmonic twists that return us to the home key of A major and back into an altered version of the A Section [ 2:42 ] The music builds in tempo and drama, seemingly reaching a pinnacle with trilling woodwinds and staccato triplet trumpets before a dramatic tutti chord from strings and woodwind. In actual fact, a solo horn [ 3:28 ] leads us into the all together calmer Trio, Section A in the new key of F major. The expressive sweetness of the melody is dovetailed between the violins and oboe with interjections from the flute.

The second part of the trio, Section B [ 4:45 ], contains some interesting harmonic shifts, leading us from D major at the outset, through C# major and into C# minor. The broadly sweeping cello melody heard at the outset is gradually developed as the harmonies shift.

The trumpets herald a return to Section A of the trio, playing the original melody softly in C major, as if prompting the rest of the orchestra to take up the motif. The material is developed, leading us through a descending quaver pattern across the strings. Once more, the horn leads us from one section to another, as the Scherzo returns in boisterous mood [ 6:20 ] in the home key of A major. Scurrying strings lead us to the B Section [ 7:05 ], shortened to a mere 23 bars as the quickening pace hurries us into a final A statement [ 7:18 ], Mahler dramatically passing a repeated last phrase across sections before a final tutti chord heard this time in all sections of the orchestra for extra impact.

Third movement: Feierlich und gemessen, ohne zu schleppen

We learn a great deal about the third movement of this symphony from the original subtitle – Todtenmarsch– ‘death march’. From this we can interpret the opening contrabass solo in a minor transposition of Brüder Martin as being a direct contrast to the joyous dance and joke experienced only moments before. It is this idea that brings another of Mahler’s great compositional techniques – the use of irony.

The theme is played at a slow pace, with threatening timpani maintaining a deathly pulse.

Gradually the instrumentation picks up on the tune, first bassoons and then ‘cellos, bass tuba, clarinet, viola, horn and flute entering one by one, each becoming an addition to the multiple round on the theme. Only the oboe offers any new material, piecing a staccato call as if in lament or cry for sympathy [ 1:01 ].

As the march slowly fades away, we are met with an almost introspective feel of sentimentality as oboes and trumpets in thirds conjure up some lost memory, pizzicato strings gently throbbing underneath [ 2:07 ].

Yet just as we are acclimatised to this mood, Mahler changes the feel once more, introducing an ironically jolly and seemingly trivial Klezmer dance on Eb clarinets, bass drum and Turkish cymbal accompanying and driving the music forward [ 2:38 ]. Marked ‘with parody’ in the score, it can be of no doubt to Mahler’s intentions concerning the mood of satire.

The idea of sudden mood changes and ambivalence contained therein was not new. The idea had been around since Berlioz had achieved something similar in his Symphonie Fantastique, however Mahler uses it to extreme lengths and no less extreme effectiveness. The fading between ideas unsettles the listener. We are left lost in a swirl of rallantandos and accelerandos and of strange mood swings. It is therefore with a strange sense of comfort that we return to the haunting mood of the funeral march [ 4:09 ].

The march is bought to a close by repeated and syncopated Ds from harp, flute, clarinet and horn that lead us into a new tempo and a change of key to G major, affirmed by the pianissimo pizzicato low strings [ 4:56 ]. This new section is seemingly at total odds with the previous moods. Gone are the menace and the irony. Instead we are in a beautifully sonorous and lyrical sound world. The muted melody in violins and flute is as expressive as any symphonic melody.

The material is taken from another of the Leider eines fahrenden Gesellen songs, this time “Die zwei blauen Augen von meinem Schatz” (‘The Two Blue Eyes of My Beloved”), a song that tells of the tranquillity and forgetfulness that the traveller finds whilst resting under a tree. In the wider version of this symphony, one imagines the tree to be in a graveyard, the funeral march having passed him by as he sits.

Yet from this beauty emerge moments of disjuncture, such as the oboe figure at 6:04. We are not permitted to forget the context, and as such are not surprised when the funeral march returns, in the new key of Eb minor [ 6:58 ], the rising of a semi-tone in tonality matching the slight cranking up of tempo.

It is in this section that Mahler makes his final declaration. Until now the Funeral March and the trivial songs of ironic merriment have been heard separately. Yet now we hear them overlapped. The tragic and the trivial are not separable; they co-exist. The sound is unsettling and more frightening than any grand gesture of tempest you may find in some of the more eulogised Romantic symphonists. As the Funeral March fades away, as if moving down the lane away from where we sit, Mahler has prepared us perfectly for the terror and magnificence of what is to come.

Fourth movement: Finale - Allegro energico e passionate – Piu allegro

The last movement follows straight on from the third movement with no break. It begins with what Mahler called “a horrible outcry” in a letter to Bauer-Lechner. He goes on, “our hero is completely abandoned, engaged in a most dreadful battle with all the sorrow of this world. Time and again he is dealt a blow by fate and only in death does he gain victory.” It is clear that the programmatic element to this movement is very clear in Mahler’s mind, and it is no doubt for this reason that his use of Sonata Form is far from strict. He uses themes to symbolise emotions and ideals rather than to fulfil the need for a second subject and so following the structure can be a little tricky.

The movement was originally subtitled ‘Dall’ Inferno al Paradiso’ (‘From the Inferno to Paradise’) and so we begin in the hellfire of the dissonant introduction. From out of the fire we move to a recognisable F minor and hear a quote from Liszt’s Dante Symphony, appearing across the orchestra but most noticeable in the sneering orchestration of muted brass, conjuring up notions of fate and inferno.

The drama and terror of this imagery flows straight into the main theme of the Exposition [ 1:04 ], marked ‘energetic’ in the score. Clearly we are still in the world of the inferno.

We move relentlessly through the hellfire until a series of sustained brass chords punctuated by thunderous claps from the timpani and bass drum gradually calm the music, fate still hammering out its quote.

Violins gently take us into the short Transition and new territory with a passage that is almost contradictory in its gentle and reflective nature. We are lead seamlessly into the Second Section and a new theme in Db major heard in violins.

The calming mood of the sonorous strings is disturbed by an epilogue to the exposition that follows the long held notes in low strings [ 6:34 ]. It is clear from the ominously rising cellos and a return of theme 4.1 that fate is returning to deal another blow. Sure enough, as we reach the development [ 7:04 ] we return directly into the torment and fire of before. In the new key of G minor, the music appears disjunctive, themes banded to and fro without any sense of completion. The scene is unsettling until a new idea is reached [ 7:54 ] as woodwind dance us into what has been described as a ‘victorious’ motif on pianissimo trumpets in C major. It seems as if the hero might be overcoming the torment and escaping to Paradiso. And yet as soon as this might be perceived to be a possibility, the inferno returns, now in C minor, as the battle between fate and victory continues. From this battle we finally emerge into jubilation as the victory motif returns in D major [ 9:22 ]. The use of the home key here is important as it symbolises a closure to the battle. Paradiso seems to be where the hero is to end, and we hear a jubilant chorale in horns to emphasise the mood.

The Recapitulation is therefore not a direct reprise. This would make little programmatic sense and so Mahler abandons traditional Sonata form in preference for maintaining the ideology of his Symphony. Following a recall of the first movement, marked very slow in the score, with trilling bird-like flutes, we move into the Secondary Section, which despite its use of minor tonality and building chromatic figures, still maintains an air of optimism. The fate figures are very much in the background through dynamics and orchestration, the nature calls coming to the fore. We slowly build through this material, as Mahler increases the tension, winding up the tempo and increasing the number of instruments heard, all of which leads to another of Mahler’s famous and strategic ‘breakthrough’ moments [ 16:55 ]. This time the climax is enormous, using full orchestration marked fff in the score. The victorious motif is heard again, the brass chorale rejoicing in its final message. We have reached Paradiso, the short coda [ 18:33 ] emphasising the joyous and jubilant nature of the conclusion to the opening to Mahler’s extensive Symphonic canon. Works that would not contain such moments of triumph over adversity as his experience of life gradually darkened his philosophy of optimism.

Further Listening

Bibliography