After the enormity of the Third Symphony, Mahler now gives us a much more managable piece, in length and in pallette, as though after two such pieces, another of this scope were simply unnecessary, or rather, it has now become necessary to step back, to reconsider more modest means.
The Fourth has always been, in my mind, the “little one,” lacking low brass and with triple woodwinds instead of quadruple, and missing even Mahler’s trademark in orchestral writing, the section of eight horns. “Little,” however, is not the right word. In scope, it is no less than the pieces that precede it, and in breadth, it is still a long piece by the standards of a Brahms or a Dvorak, and uses a much larger orchestra than those composers typically demanded.
The correct word is not “little” but “taut,” at least in this first movement. Mahler’s timbral materials are somewhat reduced, but more interesting is the fact that there is none of the sprawling motivic or harmonic architecture of the previous pieces. All of the basic motives of the piece are introduced in the first two key areas, and this economy of means is not surprising, but I haven’t seen Mahler taking it to this degree until now. In addition, Mahler’s formal construction is very traditional–the closest yet to a sonata-allegro form in the “textbook” sense.
The piece begins with a very characteristic texture–flutes in fifths doubling sleigh bells, followed by oboe and clarinet figurations. These three measures set the stage in a very specific, very unique manner. Mahler does not continue with this music, but brings it back at key locations throughout the piece, and the open fifths become a motor rhythm that gives a propulsive aspect to the “exposition” of this movement.
The “first theme” begins on the anacrusis to m. 4 in the violins, but most importantly, the down beat of that measure features a falling sixth. This interval and its rising form are another crucial motive for the movment. Measure 5 and 6 also contain material that is developed later–six-sixteenth notes leading to the down beat and a rising dotted eighth-sixteenth rhythm.
In this sonata form, the transition from first to second key area begins in m. 18 with a modified version of the first theme. A spinning out of the sixteenth-note motive leads to m. 38 and the entrance of the second theme, beginning with a rising sixth–a motivic relation between the two very different themes.
Following the rising 6th are three repeated notes, which are echoed in rhythmic diminution throughout the rest of the piece (for example, in the clarinets in m. 47ff. Following a half cadence in m. 57, oboe and bassoon present music that appears to sum up, in a way, the second theme area. It, too, receives the same sort of developmental treatment upon its repetition in the clarinets in m. 67, this time in the mixolydian mode.
Measures 72ff see a return of the opening material, at the same pitch level despite the key signature indicating the dominant. The development section begins at this point, returning to a key signature of G major at m. 77 with a reappearance of the first theme. This development section moves through G major, then A major, E-flat minor, F minor, and a return to G major. The development ends not with a “standing on the dominant,” but abruptly, with a caesura after m. 238, followed by the recapitulation without transition.
Oddly enough, the recapitulation begins with neither the sleigh bell motive nor the first theme, but depends heavily on the material from each. At measure 263, the second theme appears in the tonic key, in the same way we would expect. Measure 330 is the end of the recapitulation, leading to a very typical coda section, emphasizing the subdominant to indicate “after the ending” sentiment.