Das Lied von der Erde (The Song of the Earth)
I stand vis-a-vis a rien (face to face with nothing)... at a single
stroke I have lost any calm and peace of mind I ever achieved...
now, at the end of my life, (I) have to begin to learn to walk and
stand.
Mahler, in a letter to Bruno Walter, 1909.
Can this be endured at all? Won't the people kill themselves
afterwards?
Mahler to Bruno Walter, 1908.
One of the saddest things about leaving this world is not hearing
Das Lied von der Erde ever again.
Jascha Horenstein, shortly before his death in 1973.
Shortly after completing the Eighth, Mahler was diagnosed as having a valvular
malformation of the heart. Not only did this prevent his indulging in his
favourite activities, such as walking in the mountains, it also meant that he was
living under a sentence of death.
This was the third blow of fate, as he had foreseen in his Sixth symphony; the
others being the death of his elder daughter "Putzi", from scarlet fever, and his
forced resignation from the Vienna Hofoper.
The Song of the Earth, based on translations of Chinese poems, he
superstitiously refused to call a symphony: it would have been his ninth, and
Beethoven, Schubert and Bruckner had all failed to live to complete more than
nine symphonies (although whether Schubert's tally was considered to be nine
or not in Mahler's day is a moot point).
Chinoiserie and orientalism in general was much in fashion in fin-de-siecle
Vienna (indeed, in Western Europe in general) and Mahler's discovery of Hans
Bethge's The Chinese Flute, as collection of poems adapted from the original
Chinese, was serendipitous indeed. In these at times philosophical at times
deeply tragic poems Mahler found exactly the text he needed to carry on
creating music in the face of his own mortality.
Das Lied was composed between July and September 1908, but not
performed until after the composer's death; Bruno Walter conducted the
premiere ion Munich, on November 20, 1911.
Despite its title, his profoundly moving work - I have seen audiences in tears at
the close - is sufficiently symphonic to merit discussion with the other nine,
and Mahler did subtitle it "Symphony for tenor and alto (or baritone) voices
and orchestra". Although written in the full knowledge of his impending
demise, the work ends with an acceptance of the inevitably of death: we regret
our passing but know that we cannot avoid it, and that the world will continue
without us. Das Lied consists of six movements, alternating for the tenor and
alto soloists. The last movement, Der Abschied (The Farewell) lasts for
approximately 30 minutes and is longer than the first five combined.
For me the finest ever recording is from 1972, with the BBC Northern SO
under the great Jascha Horenstein. Horenstein had suffered a major coronary
the previous year, and at the time of the recording had less than a year to live.
The combination of an excellent orchestra (now renamed the BBC
Philharmonic in recognition of their worth) who had, amazingly, never played
the work before,together with a great conductor probably aware that he might
never conduct it again, makes for the greatest performance I have ever heard.
At 69 minutes it is also slower than any other - even Bernstein - but never
seems to be a second too long. Jack Diether said in a tribute to Horenstein in
High Fidelity that this was "far and away" the best version he had ever heard.
This recording was first released in stereo on the now defunct Descant label
(only available via mail order from the Berkshire Record Outlet, they still seem
to have copies, and can be emailed at BerkRecOut@aol.com); it has also been
issued on Music and Arts and Intaglio.
Bruno Walter's interpretation would appear to have a unique authority -
although it must be said that Otto Klemperer told Alma Mahler it would be
better had Mengelberg conducted the premiere - and there are two wonderful
recordings available to display it. Firstly a 1936 live VPO recording, the first
ever, on Pearl. Although the sound is, inevitably, limited this is still a
remarkable recording and very moving. It is coupled with a hitherto extremely
rare Ruckert Lieder performance from the same concert, and with Walter's
1935 studio recording of the Adagietto from the Fifth symphony.
Walter's other significant recording, with the VPO from 1951 (Decca/London)
is even more legendary, as the contralto is Kathleen Ferrier who was herself
dying of cancer when it was made. Ferrier had first performed this work with
Walter at the 1947 Edinburgh festival; at the end of the performance she was in
tears and could not sing the final few notes. When she apologised to the
conductor afterwards for this "unprofessional" behaviour Walter made this
unforgettably gallant reply: "My dear Miss Ferrier, if we were all such great
artists as yourself, we should all have been in tears". (Incidentally: a few years
back I met somebody who had been at this legendary concert. Through my
intense envy I managed to discern that it was every bit as memorable as has
always been suggested)
Both of these recordings are, of course, in mono.
My first choice for a modern recording is for the new EMI disc by Gary
Bertini. Canadian tenor Ben Heppner gives what may be the finest account yet
of the bitter opening movement, alto Marjana Lipovsek is excellent in Der
Abschied (although not in quite the same class as Ferrier, Baker or even
Alfreda Hodgson in Horenstein's recording) and Bertini directs a marvelously
taut account, superbly recorded live in Tokyo.
Thankfully Philips have at last reissued the Baker/King/Concertgebouw/Haitink
recording on their mid-price Silverline label. Janet Baker is quite superb in the
finale, and, while perhaps outclassed as a performance by the Bertini, this is an
excellent choice for those on a more restricted budget.
Other recommendable stereo versions include the 1964/6 Klemperer: a typical
Klemperer performance, he has what is perhaps overall the best team of
soloists of any version: the tragically short-lived Fritz Wunderlich and the
wonderful Christa Ludwig.
EMI released a recording by Tennstedt in 1992, (although it was actually
recorded in 1982 and 1984). Apparently the conductor wouldn't allow it out of
the vaults before - I don't know why. Extravagant claims have been made for
this recording and it is certainly one of Tennstedt's better Mahler recordings,
but doesn't displace any of my other recommendations, either on sonic or
interpretive grounds. Tennstedt's first movement is actually 16 seconds slower
than even Horenstein (see below) but this is not because of a slower basic
tempo - in fact his basic tempo is fairly unexceptional - but because he lingers
so much over the central "das firmament"section. The recording seems fairly
indifferent too.
Although Mahler himself entitled the work "Symphony for tenor and alto (or
baritone) voices and orchestra" I only know of two recordings with a baritone:
the 1959 Kletzki (EMI) and the 1967 Bernstein (London). Both recordings
feature Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau. If I prefer the Bernstein it is largely because
James King is better than Murray Dickie in the tenor part and Decca's VPO
recording is better than EMI's Philharmonia.
It should be pointed out, though, that the Kletzki comes on a double CD which
also features Janet Baker, accompanied by that supreme Mahlerian Sir John
Barbirolli, in three song cycles: Lieder eines farhenden Gesellen, the
R刋kert-Lieder and the Kindertotenlieder, the latter two receiving two of their
finest ever performances here.
In the last year or so there has been a sudden flurry of recordings of the
arrangement for chamber orchestra begun by Arnold Schoenberg, but not
completed until 1983 by Riehm. (The first to be recorded, although not the
first to be released, is also the only one I haven't heard, conducted by Mark
Wigglesworth on RCA)
In some sense the arrangement is hardly necessary, as one of the most salient
points of Mahler's brilliant score is its chamber-like textures; rarely does he
employ the full orchestra, rather he uses it as a pool from which to draw an
almost infinite variety of small ensembles. There are, for example, long
stretches of music, particularly in Der Abschied, where only very close
attention would reveal whether one was listening to the original version or not.
Phillipe Herreweghe is a conductor more usually associated with early music
and period performances, and so seeing his name attached to the Harmonia
Mundi recording of the chamber arrangement came as something of a surprise
(as did his resounding entitled Ensemble Musique Oblique). His two soloists
are superb, especially the alto Birgit Remmert. Tenor Hans Peter Blochwitz is
magnificent in Das Trinklied vom Jammer der Erde, although one suspects
that his voice is not big enough for him to sing this against the full Mahlerian
orchestra.
But what impresses most of all in this recording is Herreweghe's superb
conducting - make no mistake this is a great performance of Das Lied, which
should be heard by all Mahlerians. I'd really like to hear Herreweghe conduct
more. The recording is all one could ask.
As a recording, Osmo V绅sk萧s BIS disc is, if anything, even more
impressive, and his performance is very nearly - although not, in my opinion
(others differ) quite - as fine as Herreweghe.