Mahler? I Hardly Know Her!

Well, folks, we’re here. As I write this, christofascists and extremely divorced tech barons alike are in the process of dismantling the US government. A trade war has begun between the US and Canada, sparking tensions and moving the needle ever closer to American annexation of my so-called country. Republican operatives are engaging in epistemicide and genocide against transgender people: outlawing transitionary care, openly persecuting any trannies who are out of the closet, and deleting research on our medical and social needs en masse. We’re on the cusp of entering the proverbial Cool Zone – a destabilization of social, economic, and legal systems which, for better or for worse, have been in place for decades, if not centuries. The capitalist class has begun a smash-and-grab operation, a brazen looting of government funds and data, in an effort to protect its hegemony from democratic oversight. I haven’t held any love for the old colonial presence on Turtle Island since I started transitioning, but what’s arrived on our doorstep has the potential to cause orders of magnitude more harm and damage than even the most callous Harper or Bush years.

All of this means that I’m sick of doomscrolling on Bluesky, so I’m going to write this instead. I’m what you might call a fan of the music of Austrian composer Gustav Mahler (1860-1911), and over many years of listening to the man’s nine symphonies I have assembled a collection of hot takes which I would like to share with you all today. Presented in reverse drillbit order, here is my official, definitive ranking of all of Mahler’s slow movements from each of his symphonies (and yes, I’m only counting works with the word “Symphonie” in the title, so you Das Lied von der Erde lovers can suck it) based on how evocatively I feel they score the rise of fascism on Turtle Island.

5: Symphony no. 7

Mahler’s Seventh doesn’t even have a slow movement, but it’s this high on the list because it’s quirky and I like it. Other Mahler symphonies get performed more often than the Seventh because the Seventh has some, shall we say, stylistic quirks, but I feel that should be the appeal. Mahler was doing weirdo shit – something decidedly unfavored by authoritarians – so I think there’s a case to be made for listening to Mahler’s Seventh as an act of resistance. Or something.

6: Symphony no. 5 in C-Sharp Minor, Movement 3

Possibly the best-known of Mahler’s works, the Fifth is the only popular symphony on this list that I still regularly listen to. Its adagietto movement is deceptively complex and deeply moving, but not the right vibe for what’s going on right now. Use it to score decadent, illicit, queer lovemaking, not ******* **** ****** or ******* ****** off ******** ********* in a **** *******.

4: Symphony no. 1 in D Major, Movement 3

Mahler’s First is to classical music students what The Big Lebowski is to film bros – good enough to draw in those just beginning to learn the language of its medium, but not enough to interest anyone beyond the first or second listen. The slow movement is ominous enough, though, and its creepy orchestration (basses on their highest string – scandalous!) befits the current rapid dismantling of US government for the benefit of white nationalists and the most pathetic fascist oligarchs. It might be a decent choice for a small-budget indie film about our time that I’m sure some student will make 50 years from now.

7: Symphony no. 6 in A Minor, Movement 3

I wrote a paper in undergrad which used a feminist framework to discuss how the first movement of Mahler’s Sixth reflects the animosity between Gustav and Alma Mahler at that point in their marriage, and the first comment my prof made about it was “This makes me nervous.” I know people like the Mahler hammer, but as a composer who’s friends with percussionists I’ve acquired a vicarious annoyance with composers who require specially-constructed percussion instruments – what a pain in the ass to build a whole instrument to use in only one piece, ever! Anyway, the slow movement to this one is fine – I’m sure you could fit it into your “trek between ********** through rural Manitoba” playlist, but the pastoral vibe (I thought pastoral sixth movements was a Beethoven thing? Get a new thing, Mahler, you hack) reads as more reactionary than many of us revolutionaries might like, and the climax is far too Richard Strauss for my liking. In fact, this entire symphony just sounds like Mahler ripping off Strauss to me.

3: Symphony no. 4, Movement 3

We’re getting into the “so beautiful it’s depressing” level of great orchestral writing, so buckle up. Mahler’s Fourth is generally read in one of two directions: either that of “childhood innocence and vulnerability” or that of the former’s “bleak underside,” as in a dead child experiencing Heaven[1]. There are little gems scattered all around the Fourth, which is perhaps best known for its final movement featuring a gorgeous setting of the poem Das Himmlische Leben for mezzo-soprano and orchestra, but my personal highlight is the adagio movement which occurs just prior. I love how peaceful this work is – it’s like a still lake under a blue sky, only interrupted by the occasional ripple of conflict or discontent. The orchestration is ethereal and airy, featuring lots of high-register violins and woodwinds next to lower, earthier sounds. While the harp part feels somewhat prototypical of the Fifth Symphony’s famous adagietto, it generally retains its own identity and its gentle rhythms grant the music an appropriately relaxed pace. When it seems like the movement is over, there’s a flash of blinding light: we hear triumphant horns and trumpets exclaiming themes from Das Himmlische Leben after which point the piece finally winds down. This piece is one of my go-tos when I’m feeling strung-out and overburdened, so I think it’s appropriate listening for breaks between doomscrolling sessions and ******** missions.

[1] Raymond Knapp, “Suffering Children: Perspectives on Innocence and Vulnerability in Mahler’s Fourth Symphony,” 19th-Century Music 22, no. 3 (1999): p. 233 https://doi-org/10.2307/746800.

8: Symphony no. 2 in C Minor, Movement 4

It’s a pretty enough movement, but it doesn’t capture the correct vibe and it doesn’t work well out of its context within the symphony. It’s also only four minutes long – about an eighth of the length of the longest piece on this list – which is barely enough time to **** **** into the *** **** of one ******** *******.

2: Symphony no. 3, Movement 6

Love wins. Each movement of Mahler’s Third – inspired by the writings of Nietzsche – is meant to reflect a step on the path to Heaven. In its original 1896 autograph (removed from the 1898 published edition), the movements have titles: “What the Flowers in the Meadow Tell Me”, “What the Angels Tell Me”, and so on[1]. The final movement was entitled “What Love Tells Me,” and I don’t know about you, but I think Love was telling Mahler some pretty depressing stuff. To me this 25-minute behemoth of a movement sounds less like a triumphant arrival and more like overcoming the echoes of an earth-shattering tragedy or trauma. When I’m at my worst, I get drunk or high (or both) and listen to this while lying on the floor of my kitchen. It’s the ultimate in wallowing music: a piece that is so overwhelmingly emotional that it just sweeps away anything else for its entire runtime. It’s the closest musical equivalent to becoming an incorporeal mass of pure energy and transcending material reality for thirty minutes, and its perverse grandiosity makes it the perfect soundtrack for mass ********, fleeing one’s ****, or ******* up ******** installations.

[1] Gustav Mahler, Dritte Symphonie in D Moll (1896), 1.

9: Symphony no. 8, Movement idc

Does the Eighth have a slow movement? I’ve never listened to it because all the hype around it seems to come from ClassicFM. Nothing against ClassicFM, I just think they suck and I despise everything their classical music coverage stands for. The Eighth is the Star Wars of Mahler symphonies: people will get mad at you if you haven’t listened to it, but it’s mid at best and people only like it because it looks impressive. Pour one out for all the poor musicians and choristers who’ve had to cram themselves like sardines onto a stage because some megalomaniacal conductor thought the “Symphony of a Thousand” moniker should be taken literally.

1: Symphony no. 9, Movement 4

Want to know what dying sounds like? Just listen to the final movement of Mahler’s Ninth. This movement is the most gnarled and knotted piece of wood in the shed – the kind of thing your dad picks up from the forest because it “might be useful.” It’s utterly unique among its cousins with its Brucknerian sequences constantly repeating and transposing by thirds, its naked suspensions, its grainy orchestration, its huge melodic leaps. The final movement of the Ninth is a foul glimpse at the Modernity which would proceed after its composer’s death, a mourning of a dying world and an ill omen of terrible things to come. There’s no coming back, no resurrection, no clever twist or deus ex machina to save the day; there’s only death, decay, ignominy, and erasure. The Ninth dies away just as our democracy is dying: without fanfare and without warning. It simply wilts, fades, ceases to exist at the tip of the concertmaster’s bow. The Ninth is ugly and uncompromising; it is roiling agony, grief, and, ultimately, quiet acceptance of one’s ultimate fate. To me, this movement is a reminder that all things pass; that everything is dust in the end; that no furor can withstand the ravages of time. We’ll fight like hell while we’re here – the enemy can defeat our bodies, but we will defeat the years.

A hundred years, a thousand years, we're marching on the road
The going isn't easy yet, we've got a heavy load, oh we've got a heavy load
The way is blind with blood and sweat, and death sings in our ears
But time is marching on our side, we will defeat the years, oh we will defeat the years

-Ben Boucher, from The Chartist Anthem