Posts Tagged ‘folk music’

Mahler–Symphony No. 3, 5th movement

Tuesday, January 5th, 2010

After the premiere of my Five Rhythmic Etudes for orchestra in 2007, a person whose opinion I trust came up to me and told me that the first movement was a tiny masterpiece.  I don’t know whether the rest of the world would agree, but it certainly felt good to hear it.  This movement feels much the same.  One reason I’ve chosen to study Mahler’s symphonies is because of their sprawling, rambling scope, similar to novels by Tolstoy.  This movement, though, is focused and concentrated in the manner of a tiny masterpiece.

Mahler’s text is from the venerable Des Knaben Wunderhorn, and as I mentioned in my previous post on the fourth movement, it seems to balance Nietzsche’s text.  The resources are somewhat different–children’s and women’s choruses and an orchestra without violins.  The music is wholly different in mood.  Where the fourth movement is solemn and seems to suggest a deliberate mode of expression, this fifth movement is joyful and exuberant.  The folk poetry of Wunderhorn recieves an simple, folk-like setting, as though we should know this song already.

A first for Mahler (at least in the symphonies) is the use of voices as a timbral resource rather than as pure textual exposition.  Throughout, the words “bimm, bamm,” to be performed “as the sound of a bell,” work in this fashion, but at other moments, the the voices perform similar roles, most strikingly in the highest women’s voices in mm. 96-99, where a melisma on the word “Stadt” contributes to the overall texture.

To break up the folk-like, sing-song approach to the text, Mahler frequently avoids strict hypermeter, with many three-bar phrases, and often constructing four-bar phrases in a 3+1 kind of structure (as in mm.13-16 and 96-99).  Another common hypermetrical structure here is groups of four bars plus two bars.  These asymmetries seem to break up the piece, giving it the same sophistication as other of Mahler’s movements.

Beyond the wonderful use of treble voices, the orchestration is fantastic.  The absence of violins (Brahms did this before, of course) immediately shifts the emphasis to the winds, with wonderful effects.  The bassoons and contrabassoons are featured in a way that hasn’t happened earlier in the piece, and is quite refreshing–by this time, it is necessary to exploit the orchestral palette a little bit to help maintain interest.  Measures 65-83 are an essentially instrumental treatment (the voices are treated timbrally) of the material, and work in the kind of developmental way that vocal writing doesn’t always permit.  While the shape of the movement is relatively small, the scoring isn’t.

The placement of this movement within the symphony is important.  Does the five-movement second part balance the gigantic single-movement first part?  We seem to contrast unity with variety, relatively organic form with a more sectional group of forms–a minuet, a scherzo, a recitative and a chorus, followed by the sixth movement.  Mahler’s world is fully articulated, as rich and as full as the natural world, compunded by the depth and variety of the creative world.

Reaction: The Cult of the Amateur

Sunday, September 7th, 2008

I just finished reading Andrew Keen’s The Cult of the Amateur.  An indictment of what I’m doing right this second, of course.  I may have all of my students read his section on the music business.  Keen discusses Tower Records, and I remember well going to their Atlanta store in about 1995 or 1996, and having the feeling that if there was a recording I wanted, they had it, or they could get it.  It was the last place I ever saw new LPs on sale, too.  Now, I couldn’t even tell you where the nearest good record store could be found (though I did pick up a used copy of a CD of solo piano music by Charles Wuorinen and Morton Feldman at the Hastings store in Liberal).  I order from Amazon, CDBaby, and Archiv, none of which is as much fun or as satisfying as some of the fantastic record stores (and music departments of bookstores) I’ve frequented over the years (the highlights–Barnes & Noble at Easton Towne Centre and Borders on Henderson Road in Columbus, Joseph-Beth Bookseller in Cincinnati, Tower Records in Atlanta, Used Kids and Magnolia Thunderpussy in Columbus, Streetside Records in Cincinnati) .  The BMG Classical record club has shrunk its monthly selection of classical music to four pages in an omnibus catalog–an insult, really, although as I get older there is more music that I already own, so it gets tougher to please me.

More to the point–I would respond to Keen by saying that, while the surge of technological music-copying has been disastrous for the “record industry,” it has been a boon for the “average” musician.  I would remind Keen that his precious “music industry” has–put simply–conned much of society into believing that you need a record contract and a team of professionals to make music.  For the past fifty years, Americans have been letting others make their music for them, and I see that changing now. 

Any public school music teacher or church music minister can tell you that musical talent is spread around fairly thickly.  There are many who can sing or play well enough to entertain themselves and those around them, or to use their musical skills in worship, and it doesn’t require a college degree or a big break.  It appears that the public is starting to once again recognize this. 

I never understand the person who comes to me after hearing me play or after listening to one of my pieces saying, “that’s amazing, I could never do that.”  Those people are selling themselves short.  The human mind is a flexible, resourceful thing, and it can learn to do nearly anything, given time and motivation.  I don’t believe that anyone is musically hopeless, but the music industry wants us to believe that we are.  No more!  Any teenager who has played with Garage Band for ten minutes can create a decent sounding song… not strikingly original, but an indicator of a strongly developed sense of musical taste.    To paraphrase one of my professors, Gregory Proctor, if you ask the mechanic down at the garage to come up with a song, he can do it… maybe not a good song, but a conventional song that fits the musical culture he has been steeped in.  We now hear more music than ever–it surrounds us, and compared to our ancestors, we are all probably musical geniuses.

To the end though, because it’s late, and there isn’t that much point in inflating the blogosphere with my midnight musings.  In the realm of music, technology has the potential to remake folk music–where Keen sees billions of self-taught musicians condemned to anonymity, I see the nameless, shapeless forces of true folk music, building a common culture on the backs of unremembered musical mediocrities.  Where today my students don’t have four folk songs in common, perhaps Web 2.0 will allow the culture of personal, meaningful music to be restored to the vast millions who don’t have record deals.  I don’t know what technology means for music–especially for my music.  I hope it means more live music, more amateur music and a greater importance in our culture for music as an activity that enriches the lives of those who participate.