The New Version of Mahler's 10th Symphony
Gustav Mahler / Symphony No. 10
Realization of the drafts into a performable version by
Yoel H. Gamzou
Introduction to the Premiere of the Adagio in Berlin on 26/09/08
In 2003, after years of a deep fascination and a very close emotional connection to Mahler's music and to the 10th in particular, I embarked on intensive research into this enigmatic masterpiece. It was both the mysterious aura of an unfinished Mahler symphony and the effect the Adagio had on me when I first heard it which drew me to the Tenth, a magnet to many Mahlerians and a decades-old topic of incredible controversy. Only later I realized what a meaning this piece is going to take in my life and just how extraordinary this music is.
Soon came to my awareness the existence of several 'completion' attempts, and not surprisingly I ended up diving into a copy of the first and pioneering version of Deryck Cooke, without whom the Tenth may have still been lying in some archive, untouched and far from deciphered. The potential within these sketches was obvious to me within seconds not only a skeleton of ideas, but perhaps what would have become the most far-reaching musical statement of Gustav Mahler. As soon as I started getting to know those other versions, along came a very disappointing dissatisfaction with all of them a feeling of a 'miss', as if none extracted from these sketches the maximum which can do most justice to the music and still adhere to Mahler's intentions as far as possible.
In 2004, with the encouragement of my teacher and colleague Winston Dan Vogel and several months afterwards of my late mentor Carlo Maria Giulini, I decided to undertake the monumental task of preparing another version of Mahler's 10th Symphony, a challenge I approached with both great fear and enthusiasm. I must stress and insist that I definitely do not claim to 'know better' than any of those very reputable and skilled individuals who attempted to climb this summit before me; but I hope that the combination of my approach, which is in many ways different to that of my predecessors, along with the additional sketches which have surfaced since the first attempt, might produce a version which could come closer to the full potential of this remarkable and tragic masterpiece.
In fact, the further I got with my work the more I realized what a colossal task this is, and what an enormous responsibility is laying on my shoulders. Nevertheless, I am confident that my approach is the most valid one, and hope that the above, along with the circumstances at hand can produce a more convincing version than all of those already existing.
It is necessary to mention that the nature of the work at hand consists of many different challenges which involve totally different processes and contrasting complications.
As we know, the myth that the Symphony has to be 'completed', in a so-called 'horizontal' (i.e. thematic content) way, is absurd. Mahler managed to complete the drafts of the entire symphony, chronologically speaking, so that there is not one bar which does not have ANY material whatsoever. The problem is, of course, that different passages and movements had been composed to different extents. So, for example, the challenge of the first movement (Adagio) is very different to that of the Finale; the Adagio has numerous layers of drafts, including a very elaborate orchestral draft, while the Finale has one and only draft, in particell (short-score) format which at times, features barely a melody with some harmonic support, if not less.
When dealing with the Adagio, the most fundamental and nerve-racking task is to be able to read Mahler's handwriting and decipher the often far-from-clear spots. There are countless passages in this movement which have been under debate for decades solely on reading-grounds, that is, which note is intended and most importantly, whether it is a 'mistake' or not - one finds oneself very often in front of the terrible dilemma, when facing a totally illogical note or accidental (alteration sign), of having to choose between adhering to what's written or modifying it to fit with what common sense or in some cases personal-taste or personal-view would indicate as logical. Since we know Mahler was far from organised when composing early sketches, and even more so in this case of this symphony which was conceived in a relative rush, there is no reason to adhere 'as a rule' to whatever is written just out of some claim for authenticity since one can simply not argue that Mahler was so pedantic to produce impeccably precise drafts. At the same time this is a very dangerous statement, as it can imply an almost limitless-liberty. Of course any such modifications should be carried out with utmost prudence and only when an alternative seems inconceivable - it is only in extreme cases, when the harmony or texture make absolutely no sense - that one should allow oneself to consider taking such measures.
Once this painstaking process has been completed, one faces the fascinating although delicate task of 'touching up' the draft of the Adagio in order for it to make sense as a whole. Since this movement is quite advanced in terms of orchestration and counter-point, there is no need to 'conceive' an orchestrational or textural concept, but one has to see how certain indications (which Mahler arguably meant only for himself) should be interpreted, when counterpoints should be added, where doublings should be introduced and to what extent, and other such aspects which all have to be tended to in order to produce a score which does justice to the music. This is exactly why the version produced by Erwin Ratz and the Internationale Gustav Mahler Gesellschaft is far from convincing - it is almost an Urtext (through Ratz's interpretation, of course) of the orchestral-draft of the Adagio, but is not performable (in the full meaning of the word) as, to my view, it does not sound like anything which resembles a convincing musical statement.
In the case of the other movements such as the Finale and the 2nd Scherzo, one faces a totally different mountain to climb. There, one has to puff-up life into the sketch by properly constructing an orchestrational concept, a harmonic texture, and in many cases even free contrapuntal additions are required. This task is far more compositional in essence, but again, no arbitrary additions have to be made (therefore less room for damage) as the essential content is always there, although to varying extents.
The Adagio, (my version of which will be premiered by the International Mahler Orchestra on September 26th 2008 in Berlin) is in many ways the most complex movement to deal with; while in the case of the last two movements, for example, although one faces a far more extensive and creative process, one cannot rely on more than a deep acquaintance with the musical world of Gustav Mahler and attempt to construct a convincing musical statement out of one sole sketch, the preparation of the Adagio involves diving into an immense amount of material, sometime helpful and sometime confusing. It is often difficult to discern at which compositional stage Mahler wrote a specific page, and even more challenging is the question whether one should use previously-abandoned material in order to fill-in ?weaker? passages, (would this material have been reused at a later stage?) should one rely on earlier sources as ?reference? for harmonic mistakes, or did Mahler intend to modify those? Can one take tempo markings which have not been copied to the orchestral draft but appear on various occasions in earlier drafts as definitive? All these questions make the fortune of having so much material for the adagio a double-edged sword as it can introduce serious dilemmas and more confusion to an already rather chaotic manuscript.
Another delicate matter is the extent to which one allows oneself to ?add? material to a movement which is, although not complete, quite advanced in terms of compositional progress. It is exactly at this point where one of the most crucial choices an editor has to make comes into the picture ? does one aim at an ?authentic? version or rather at a musical statement which does justice to the genius behind the sketch? Of course, this question assumes no version can fulfil both aims ? or rather, no authentic version can do justice to the music. This is undoubtedly the case, given Mahler?s compositional habits. A composer who used to revise pieces over and over again before even calling them ?complete?, not to mention further revisions after each performance, cannot be done justice to at a stage of a sketch, when taken face-value. Mahler would have undoubtedly revised and reworked the Adagio before even presenting a fair-copy to a publisher. Therefore, I believe it is crucial to elaborate this movement and not restrict the work on it to ?preparing the sketch to be executable?, as did Erwin Ratz in his IGMG version, but rather properly bringing it to a stage which, although will never be %100 authentic, would not make Mahler?s last musical statement sound like an experiment or an under-developed embryo. This is not to imply that wild additions are to be made ? as in every artistic process, the key to this work is balance and ?measure? ? finding the right extent of additions and the right restraint in order to stick to the general concept of the movement and the written draft, while still bringing it to a truly ?performable? state.
An additional stage of editing presents itself when one faces the responsibility of placing Tempo, articulation, bowing and other performance-related indications. Since Mahler was (in many cases throughout the movement) nowhere near the stage of such details, it is more of an interpretational task rather than a musicological one; this brings me to the fundamental concept of my version which I will now describe:
1. Approaching a scholarly task from an interpretational point of view
The main and perhaps most crucial difference between my version and the existing ones is the ?raison-d?etre? behind it and the fundamental nature of the approach to this project. This symphony has been ?completed? by various individuals, all of whom were incredibly gifted and skilful musicians. It would be unreasonably pretentious for a man of my age to claim superior knowledge to some of those people, who had decades of experience behind them when commencing this journey. But it is, in fact, on a totally different base that I am constructing my version ? approaching this process from the point of view of a performer rather than that of a musicologist. I believe that it is exactly there where my predecessors erred ? a symphony should not sound like a scholarly experiment but rather be a convincing musical statement. The public which comes to hear it played is not interested in a presentation of a musicological thesis or research, but in experiencing an aesthetic and emotional moment during which they are absolutely not interested in finding out why a certain passage sounds the way it does and what percentage of it can be accredited to Mahler, and what exactly is Mahler, etc. A musical performance is not a lecture and therefore a concert presenting the 10th should be experienced like any other concert ? however complex the background of the piece is. All supporting documentation can and should be supplied and many explanations can be given beforehand or afterwards ? but we do not have the right to present something ?explanatory? as a work of art. In this case, to my humble opinion, it is far better to present something which is perhaps not 100% Mahler (which is anyway the case of any version, naturally) rather than an ?authentic? caricature of a symphony.
The difficult side of this very controversial statement is of course the enormous responsibility laying on the shoulders of any editor ? because at the end of the day, people are not coming to listen to a symphony by ?The Editor? which is ?inspired by Mahler?, but a symphony BY Mahler, and it is indeed Mahler?s name printed on the programme. This responsibility is monumental ? as one is tampering with the work of a genius greater than us all, and presenting one?s judgement, to a certain extent, as the ?composer?s wish?. This only magnifies the complexity and consequence of the work at hand and therefore, I believe that only with the above approach in mind one can present a piece which comes as close as possible to a musical experience one can live through Mahler?s music.
I would like to add, in continuation to the above, that it is exactly for these reasons that I believe a conductor or rather, a performing-musician, is more apt for the task than a musicologist, however experienced or knowledgeable. Although I hope I implemented my scholarly experience, however modest, into this version, a far greater emphasis was put on making decisions based on intuition and a deep connection to the music of Gustav Mahler. I realize these are values many may frown upon, but I do believe Mahler conceived his own music through a far-from-strictly-cerebral approach, to say the least, and I think a similar attitude has to be employed in order to retrace a convincing musical narrative.
I truly believe that, however one can explain certain choices by analyzing sources, probabilities, statistics, etc., it is, at the end of the day, the ?test of the ear? which tells whether this was a good choice or not. I am convinced that far too much emphasis was put on finding the ?right solution? rather than the ?best solution?, if I may employ such simplistic terms. I therefore hope that my intuition, based on a total devotion to Mahler?s music and years of ?addiction? to this composer have led me to decisions which will bring the listener as close as possible to the Mahlerian experience.
2. Relying on recently discovered sources and multiple sources of research
Another issue which I try to adhere to in my work, despite the above point, is making the best possible use of all existing sources. We are extremely fortunate that the tragic way in which Mahler?s manuscript had been dispersed throughout the years has taken a positive turn in recent years, when various additional pages have surfaced and archived properly.
Many previously unanswered questions are now easier to solve and it is of course crucial to make the best possible use of this advantage and consider every single source which is available.
Furthermore, I decided to take into account the first copy made of the Adagio, by the copyist of the conductor Franz Schalk, in Vienna of the early 20s. This copy was intended for the first Viennese performance which was conducted by Schalk, and it was clearly copied directly from the manuscript. Schalk himself annotated his copyist?s version and added many interesting layers to the texture and has clearly supervised the entire copying process.
Although neither of the two had any superior knowledge on the piece to the one we have, and probably not more material than is available today, I believe there are certain traditions which may have been in the blood of Mahler which could be better understood by a man living in his time, who approached this piece only a few years after his death. These traditions can range between simple habits of notation (which have changed significantly since then) to an acquaintance with a different compositional ?language? which might be less familiar to us. Mahler took for granted a very high level of musicianship on the part of the ?reader? of his manuscript, as it was obviously intended for himself. He had many tendencies and habits which only he was aware of, (a certain ?short-hand?) with regard, for example, to the elaboration of a short-score into an orchestral draft. He would write certain particular details, knowing exactly how he would later elaborate them. Most of these died with him, as we will never know what he had intended. Some of them, though, can be retraced from earlier symphonies or are consistently-Mahlerian habits and therefore can be reconstructed accordingly. Alongside, there are certain ?short-hands? which were not only employed by Mahler but were rather a result of a certain form of education and custom at that period of time ? and it is exactly for that reason that Schalk?s Wiener copy can be of great help, all that of course, while still having in mind this is an independent person with his own views, and therefore everything has to be taken into consideration rather than face-value.
As stated above, I have made every possible effort to consult all existing sources ? but in this category I also include the existing ?performable-versions?. Nevertheless, I have made it a rule not to allow myself to consult any existing version while working on a particular movement, as I wouldn?t want to be influenced by previous editors? choices. On the other hand, the moment a movement is complete, I find it extremely useful to study previous versions of this particular movement, in order not to repeat the same mistakes my predecessors have made.
For this process I often find it more effective to listen to a recording or a concert of any such version rather than only study the score, as it is exactly on this level which they are all unsatisfactory ? they all seem incredibly convincing on paper but hardly so when brought into acoustic existence.
This very strict code of ethics has guided me through those years of work on the 10th, and I truly hope any prospective editors will employ similar views on the matter.
I would like to mention one additional point which has guided me all throughout my work on the adagio. This movement, quite like the Adagio (4th movement) of Mahler?s 9th Symphony, is constructed on a very particular and interesting structural and orchestrational concept, which I tend to call the ?Blocks technique?. This concept comprises a very clear division of the movement into ?episodes? or ?blocks? ? groups of 2, 4, 6 or 8 bars (sometimes more) which have the same character and use the same instruments (occasionally also a consistent dynamic). Mahler had never used this technique so extensively as he did in the Adagio of the 9th and of the 10th ? which were composed directly one after the other, which further asserts my point. All throughout the movement, one notices these ?blocks? which are, in fact, very often simply phrasing-units (i.e. phrases, episodes, periods) but sometimes fragments thereof. These ?blocks? are the structural skeleton of the movement ? they follow each other and create a certain ?contour? to the thematic content as well as to the instrumentational changes ? for example, a 4-bar block of music which features the strings and trombones can be followed by a block featuring the strings with the horns and flutes. More often than not, the instruments which double the strings or which compliment them cease from playing and are replaced by others ? this further emphasizes the feeling of blocks as the division becomes clearer with the orchestrational swap. This, although not a principle, is more than apparent in this movement and it has guided me extensively when choosing doublings or shaping the character of a certain passage, and I try to adhere, although not simplistically of course (that is, not ?as a rule?) to this notion which is so rooted in this movement. Furthermore, Mahler very rarely continued using the same wind or brass instruments throughout two contrasting ?blocks? ? therefore I tried to avoid doubling the strings, at a given passage, with an instrument which was about to be introduced anyhow (that is, by an original indications) as it is detrimental to the variety-effect which is so essential to Mahler (obtained by introducing new colours with different instruments - needless to mention that when one has been already presented, no acoustic ?surprise? is possible and the texture becomes monotonous).
I would like to extend my gratitude, first and foremost, to Frans Bouwman, without whom I would not have survived one bar of this piece. He saved me from the understandable confusion of a novice entering the Mahler 10th world ? and gave me the tools to find my way and make the right choices.
Mr Bouwman has been working, for several decades now, on the most crucial project in the history of Mahler?s 10th Symphony ? a proper chronologically-ordered Urtext of all the drafts of the 10th. In his work, he puts in the form of graph all the existing sketches, one on top of the other (in chronological order) and enables the researcher to have the most comprehensive and wide-reaching view on this enigmatic piece. His work is truly invaluable for any future research on Mahler?s 10th Symphony and I would like to thank him for his confidence in my work and his dedicated assistance.
Furthermore, I would like to thank Mr. Henry-Louis de la Grange with whom I spent some incredibly fascinating days, and who welcomed me equally to his home in Toblach as to his Mahler-archives in Paris.
Many thanks also to the Internationale Gustav Mahler Gesellschaft in Vienna and in particular to
Dr. Rheinold Kubik, who welcomed me to their premises on countless occasions, provided me with a copy of the all-too-rare facsimile of the 10th Symphony (Zsolnay 1921) and patiently let me find my way through this magical journey.
Of course, same sentiments extended to all friends and colleagues who were there for me in all stages of the process ? for advice, moral support and encouragement ? at the points of triumph and moments of desperation ? amongst them Hannes Kraemer, Winston Dan Vogel, Guy Braunstein, Marianne Lecler, Family Trenker in Toblach and many others.
Last but not least, my deepest affection and gratitude to Marina Mahler, who has been encouraging, helpful and always there for me ? in my quest into the music of Gustav Mahler.
?Yoel Gamzou, Berlin, Summer 2008