Symphony No.6

When Mahler completed the Sixth Symphony he was in his prime as composer and conductor: “I know no one who can do more than I can,” he is quoted as saying. He had been married to Alma for little more than two years and, in a summer she described as “beautiful, happy, devoid of conflict,” the three major setbacks that were soon to hit him like hammer blows - the crisis which led to his resignation as director of the Vienna Opera, the death of his elder daughter, the diagnosis of his heart condition - were not predictable. But in these outwardly happy circumstances, in the bosom of his young family in their country retreat at Maiernigg in the summers of 1903 and 1904, some inward necessity compelled him to write his one “tragic” symphony, with its literally represented hammer blows falling heavily on the Finale. “We wept that day” said Alma, recalling the occasion when Mahler first played it over to her at the end of what was to be their last summer at Maiernigg.

The emotional symbolism is, in fact, unmistakably vivid, and it upset Mahler once again when he was rehearsing the first performance in Essen in May 1906. But one of the great qualities of the symphony is that the symbolism is also part of its monumental structural fabric. The extra instruments Mahler uses - adding up to quadruple woodwind, eight horns, four trumpets, and an unprecedented percussion section - are not there for merely colouristic or picturesque reasons. It is a symphony of true spontaneity and, at the same time, almost classical integrity of form, the whole thing based ultimately on a simple conflict between major and minor.

Allegro energico, ma non troppo

The first movement begins in A minor with an evidently inimical march, characterised by its relentless tread in percussion and lower strings and its aggressive dotted rhythms. The transition to the second subject is symbolically important too: two timpanists drum out a crushing march rhythm and four trumpets utter a chord of A major which chillingly turns to the minor. The second subject itself, rapturously introduced by violins and upper woodwind in the major, with enthusiastic contrapuntal participation from the rest of the orchestra, is one of Mahler finest melodic inspirations: “I’ve tried to personify you in a theme,” said Mahler to Alma soon after he had invented it; “I don’t know if I’ve succeeded but you will have to be content with it!”.

After an abundant (and necessarily repeated) exposition, the development is comparatively short. From the start, it is gripped by the fears symbolised by the first subject - unshakably it seems until the magical intervention of distant cowbells accompanied by celesta and high tremolando violins. The symbolism of the tender episode that follows, making a new melody out of a combination of the first and second subjects - the persecuted hero married to Alma - seems clearer still. So at the beginning of the recapitulation, the first subject confidently strides in not in A minor but A major, though only to make the chilling change to the minor which is so characteristic of this symphony. But the second subject reappears to rescue the hero and, after his fears have revisited him in the coda, he achieves a final triumph in A major.

Scherzo: wuchtig

In the second edition of the symphony Mahler reversed the order of the two central movements, presenting the Andante moderato before the Scherzo. Later he changed his mind again - presumably so that the parodistic relationship between the first movement and the Scherzo would be quite clear. The Scherzo begins like the first movement in A minor with repeated As stamped out in the bass under a dotted rhythm in the violins - but in 3/8, with the timpani deliberately out of step, instead of 4/4. Mahler echoes the themes of the first movement in shrill or otherwise weird distortion and mischievously imitates its key relationships too. This time, however, confronted by the chill reality of the major/minor chords on the trumpets, he is powerless to prevent the movement ending in A minor.

Andante moderato

The slow movement is an essentially lyrical rondo. But even the first theme, with the exquisite chromatic kinks in the melodic line, is a little uneasy in its major mood. Almost imperceptibly the key slips into the minor for a new melody on cor anglais and then quickly reverts to the tonic. Unassertive though that minor-key element is, its influence extends well beyond the first return of the main theme (now in a slightly altered version for first horn) and provokes a more extended episode of melancholy. This is swept aside by a surge of happiness in the major, significantly heightened by the sound of cowbells, and followed by the second return of the main theme. In spite of a later and more serious disturbance, in a climactic clash with the still strong forces of optimism, the movement finally subsides into tranquillity once more.

Finale: allegro moderato - allegro energico

The contrast between the end of the Andante moderato and the panic at the beginning of the Finale is extreme. The fearful theme for first violins and its variant for the eight horns - over loudly repeated As on the timpani and the major/minor chord on trombones and trumpets - are both tragic distortions of the second subject of the first movement. After an introductory review of other important themes, the tempo accelerates to the basic Allegro energico for the introduction of the first subject, which is another march in A minor. By the entry of the second subject, however, which incorporates an exuberant allusion to the idyllic episode in the first movement, Mahler seems to have recovered his self-confidence. Fears from the first subject provoke a return of the introductory panic but are then stilled by a memory of the pastoral idyll, with distant cowbells, harp, celesta and tremolando violins. So the heroic element exultantly reasserts itself - only to be cut off at its climax by a cruel blow of fate, the dull thud from the instrument designated in the score as a “hammer.”

After a struggle and a second hammer blow, the way is prepared for the return of the familiar fears from the introduction and for the beginning of the recapitulation. Such, however, is Mahler’s faith in the idyll that its recall here brings about the recapitulation of the second subject first. This only delays the inevitable re-entry of the first subject and what, in the first edition of the symphony, was a third hammer blow - a symbol of such dread significance to Mahler that he later deleted it. With or without the third hammer blow, the last events of the work - including the stamped-out march rhythms and the major chords chillingly changing to the minor - are an unmistakable indication of the tragic outcome of the conflict between the hero and his fate.

When Mahler completed the Sixth Symphony he was in his prime as composer and conductor: “I know no one who can do more than I can,” he is quoted as saying. He had been married to Alma for little more than two years and, in a summer she described as “beautiful, happy, devoid of conflict,” the three major setbacks that were soon to hit him like hammer blows - the crisis which led to his resignation as director of the Vienna Opera, the death of his elder daughter, the diagnosis of his heart condition - were not predictable. But in these outwardly happy circumstances, in the bosom of his young family in their country retreat at Maiernigg in the summers of 1903 and 1904, some inward necessity compelled him to write his one “tragic” symphony, with its literally represented hammer blows falling heavily on the Finale. “We wept that day” said Alma, recalling the occasion when Mahler first played it over to her at the end of what was to be their last summer at Maiernigg.

The emotional symbolism is, in fact, unmistakably vivid, and it upset Mahler once again when he was rehearsing the first performance in Essen in May 1906. But one of the great qualities of the symphony is that the symbolism is also part of its monumental structural fabric. The extra instruments Mahler uses - adding up to quadruple woodwind, eight horns, four trumpets, and an unprecedented percussion section - are not there for merely colouristic or picturesque reasons. It is a symphony of true spontaneity and, at the same time, almost classical integrity of form, the whole thing based ultimately on a simple conflict between major and minor.

Allegro energico, ma non troppo

The first movement begins in A minor with an evidently inimical march, characterised by its relentless tread in percussion and lower strings and its aggressive dotted rhythms. The transition to the second subject is symbolically important too: two timpanists drum out a crushing march rhythm and four trumpets utter a chord of A major which chillingly turns to the minor. The second subject itself, rapturously introduced by violins and upper woodwind in the major, with enthusiastic contrapuntal participation from the rest of the orchestra, is one of Mahler finest melodic inspirations: “I’ve tried to personify you in a theme,” said Mahler to Alma soon after he had invented it; “I don’t know if I’ve succeeded but you will have to be content with it!”.

After an abundant (and necessarily repeated) exposition, the development is comparatively short. From the start, it is gripped by the fears symbolised by the first subject - unshakably it seems until the magical intervention of distant cowbells accompanied by celesta and high tremolando violins. The symbolism of the tender episode that follows, making a new melody out of a combination of the first and second subjects - the persecuted hero married to Alma - seems clearer still. So at the beginning of the recapitulation, the first subject confidently strides in not in A minor but A major, though only to make the chilling change to the minor which is so characteristic of this symphony. But the second subject reappears to rescue the hero and, after his fears have revisited him in the coda, he achieves a final triumph in A major.

Andante moderato

In the first edition of the symphony the Scherzo came before the Andante moderato, presumably so that its parodistic relationship with the first movement would be quite clear. In the second edition Mahler reversed the order of the two central movements, presenting the Andante moderato before the Scherzo. Although he did change his mind yet again, reverting to the original order, his indecision has created a situation in which conductors feel free to choose between the two alternatives. Sir Charles Mackerras, who has performed it both ways, has on this occasion decided to follow the order of the movements in the second edition.

The Andante moderato is an essentially lyrical rondo. But even the first theme, with the exquisite chromatic kinks in the melodic line, is a little uneasy in its major mood. Almost imperceptibly the key slips into the minor for a new melody on cor anglais and then quickly reverts to the tonic. Unassertive though that minor-key element is, its influence extends well beyond the first return of the main theme (now in a slightly altered version for first horn) and provokes a more extended episode of melancholy. This is swept aside by a surge of happiness in the major, significantly heightened by the sound of cowbells, and followed by the second return of the main theme. In spite of a later and more serious disturbance, in a climactic clash with the still strong forces of optimism, the movement finally subsides into tranquillity once more.

Scherzo: wuchtig

The Scherzo begins like the first movement in A minor with repeated As stamped out in the bass under a dotted rhythm in the violins - but in 3/8, with the timpani deliberately out of step, instead of 4/4. Mahler echoes the themes of the first movement in shrill or otherwise weird distortion and mischievously imitates its key relationships too. This time, however, confronted by the chill reality of the major/minor chords on the trumpets, he is powerless to prevent the movement ending in A minor.

Finale: allegro moderato - allegro energico

The Finale begins in panic. The fearful theme for first violins and its variant for the eight horns - over loud repeated As on the timpani and the major/minor chord on trombones and trumpets - are both tragic distortions of the second subject of the first movement. After an introductory review of other important themes, the tempo accelerates to the basic Allegro energico for the introduction of the first subject, which is another march in A minor. By the entry of the second subject, however, which incorporates an exuberant allusion to the idyllic episode in the first movement, Mahler seems to have recovered his self-confidence. Fears from the first subject provoke a return of the introductory panic but are then stilled by a memory of the pastoral idyll, with distant cowbells, harp, celesta and tremolando violins. So the heroic element exultantly reasserts itself - only to be cut off at its climax by a cruel blow of fate, the dull thud from the instrument designated in the score as a “hammer.”

After a struggle and a second hammer blow, the way is prepared for the return of the familiar fears from the introduction and for the beginning of the recapitulation. Such, however, is Mahler’s faith in the idyll that its recall here brings about the recapitulation of the second subject first. This only delays the inevitable re-entry of the first subject and what, in the first edition of the symphony, was a third hammer blow - a symbol of such dread significance to Mahler that he later deleted it. With or without the third hammer blow, the last events of the work - including the stamped-out march rhythms and the major chords chillingly changing to the minor - are an unmistakable indication of the tragic outcome of the conflict between the hero and his fate.

The Sixth is surely the greatest of all Mahler’s symphonies. If it is not the most popular, the reason could be that it is actually too successful in giving expression to the mortal fears which everyone recognises but which most prefer to suppress. It is all the more disturbing because so much of the work reflects the general happiness of Mahler’s own life at the time he wrote it - in the bosom of his young family in their country retreat at Mainernigg in the summers of 1903 and 1904.

When Mahler completed the Sixth Symphony he had been married to Alma for little more than two years, he was in his prime as composer and conductor - “I know no one who can do more than I can” he said - and the illness which was to kill him several years later was not yet apparent. But, in these outwardly happy circumstances, some inward necessity compelled him to write his only “tragic” symphony. “We wept that day” said Alma, recalling the occasion when Mahler first played it over to her. The emotional symbolism is, in fact, unmistakably vivid, and it upset Mahler once again when he was rehearsing the first performance in Essen in May 1906. But one of the great qualities of the symphony is that the symbolism is also part of the structural fabric of the score. The extra instruments Mahler uses - adding up to quadruple woodwind, eight horns, four trumpets, and an unprecedented percussion section - are not there for merely colouristic or picturesque reasons. The weight of the musical ideas and the richness of their contrapuntal treatment demand scoring on this scale. It is a symphony of true spontaneity and, at the same time, almost classical integrity of form, the whole massive structure based ultimately on a simple conflict between major and minor.

The first movement begins in A minor with an evidently inimical march, characterised by its relentless tread in percussion and lower strings and by its aggressive dotted rhythms. Basically, the first subject consists of the theme introduced fortissimo by first and second violins with emphatic support from brass and woodwind. But there is more to it than that, for it immediately inspires a series of variants. Four oboes in unison interpolate the first variant, which is given a shrill answer - a chromatic descending phrase in dotted rhythms - by the violins. Then, after a fortissimo restatement of the main theme, there is another variant in the form of a trumpet call, which is later repeated in slightly different shapes by trombone, horns, trumpets and horns again.

The transition to the second subject is important too: two timpanists drum out a crushing march rhythm, four trumpets utter a chord of A major which chillingly turns to the minor, and the woodwind whisper an emotionally equivocal but perhaps consolatory chorale, recalling the nature music of the Third Symphony. The second subject itself, rapturously introduced by violins and upper woodwind in F major, with enthusiastic contrapuntal participation from the rest of the orchestra, is one of Mahler finest melodic inspirations. Alma Mahler said that it represented her, which is not difficult to believe in the intimate context of the symphony. Though related to the first subject, it so changes the atmosphere that, at one point during the ecstasy, one of the first subject variants appears in cheerful inversion, brightly coloured by glockenspiel.

After this abundant (and necessarily repeated) exposition, the development is comparatively short. From the start, it is gripped by the fears symbolised by the first subject - unshakably it seems until the magical intervention of distant cowbells accompanied by celesta and high tremolando violins. The symbolism of the tender episode which follows, making a new melody out of a combination of the first and second subject - the persecuted hero married to Alma - seems clearer still. So at the beginning of the recapitulation, the first subject confidently strides in not in A minor but A major - only to make the chilling change to the minor which is so characteristic of this symphony. But the second subject reappears in D major to rescue the hero and, after his fears have revisited him in the coda, achieves a final triumph in A major.

In the second edition of the symphony Mahler reversed the order of the two central movements, presenting the Andante moderato before the Scherzo. Later he changed his mind again - presumably so that the parodistic relationship between the first movement and the Scherzo would be quite clear. The Scherzo begins like the first movement in A minor with repeated As stamped out in the bass under a dotted rhythm in the violins - but in 3/8, with the timpani deliberately out of step, instead of 4/4. Mahler echoes the themes of the first movement in shrill or otherwise weird distortion and mischievously imitates its key relationships too. The curiously clumsy trio section (its old-fashioned 4/8 elegance contradicted by 3/8 foot stamps) is in F major and, again, like the second subject of the first movement, is recalled in D major. Confronted, however, with the chill reality of the major/minor chords on the trumpets, it is powerless to prevent the movement ending in A minor.

The Andante moderato is a lyrical rondo in E flat major, the same key as that of the idyllic episode of the first movement. But even the first theme, with the exquisite chromatic kinks in the melodic line, is a little uneasy in its major mood. Almost imperceptibly the key slips into G minor for a new melody on cor anglais and then quickly reverts to the tonic. Unassertive though that minor-key element was, its influence extends well beyond the first return of the main theme (now in a slightly altered version for first horn) and provokes a more extended episode of melancholy in E minor. This is swept aside by a surge of happiness in the major, significantly heightened by the sound of cowbells, and followed by the second return of the main theme in E flat major. But a later allusion by the oboe to that same unassertive theme, now in A minor, leads to a more serious disturbance and a climactic clash with the still strong forces of optimism. Gradually, the movement subsides into its E flat major tranquillity once more.

The contrast between the end of the Andante moderato and the C minor panic at the beginning of the Finale is extreme. The fearful theme for first violins and its variant for the eight horns - over loudly repeated As on the timpani and the major/minor chord on trombones and trumpets - are both tragic distortions of the second subject of the first movement. In an introductory review of the other important themes, the tuba reasserts the aggressive dotted rhythms, first horn presents a heroic alternative (almost in the manner of Wagner’s Siegfried), woodwind and brass intone a chorale in C minor, and the same instruments quietly anticipate the main theme of the first subject.

The tempo accelerates to the basic Allegro energico and, as in the first movement, the first subject is a march in A minor. it is long enough to incorporate and develop all but one of the thematic elements from the introduction. The exception is the heroic horn call which later reappears as the second subject in D major, together with an exuberant allusion to the idyllic episode in the first movement. At this stage Mahler’s self-confidence seems quite secure. Fears from the first subject provoke a return of the introductory panic but are then stilled by a memory of the pastoral idyll, which distant cowbells, harp, celesta and tremolando violins. The heroic element exultantly reasserts itself - only to be cut off at its climax by a cruel blow of fate, the dull thud from the instrument designated in the score as a “hammer.” Apparently successful attempts by the hero to reassert himself are routed b y a ferocious attack from first-subject material. There is a powerful, mainly inimical contrapuntal development, in the midst of which the chorale - on the hero’s side for the first time - emerges in a broadly triumphant version in A major. But this too is cut short by the hammer blow.

So the way is prepared for the return of the familiar fears from the introduction and the beginning of the recapitulation of the first subject. Such, however, is Mahler’s faith in the idyll that its recall here - with cowbells, celesta, the oboe melody sounding almost like Siegfried’s woodbird - brings about the recapitulation of the second subject first. This only delays the inevitable re-entry of the first subject. The chorale makes one last heroic effort before another expression of fear and what, in the first edition of the symphony , was a third hammer blow - a symbols of such dread significance to Mahler that he deleted it from the score. With or without the hammer blow, the last events of the work - the stamped-out march rhythms, the major/minor chords, the chorale converted into a five-part contrapuntal lament for tuba and trombones, the bitter A minor harmonies - are an unmistakable indication of the tragic outcome of the conflict between the hero and his fate.