PART THREE
Then came the main point. After the first world war Mengelberg, had written
to Alma asking her to refresh his memory as to how she remembered Mahler
wanted the order of the middle movements. She replied: "Scherzo first,
Andante second, Love Alma." Mengelberg, treating the message like gospel,
wrote in his score: "Scherzo first, Andante second, Gustav Mahler". So is
holy writ emblazoned on our consciousness! And scribe Ratz sanctified it as
the final order, with apparently no other information to go on.
In any event, at the last rehearsal, the day of the concert, I shared all
this with the players of the orchestra. I said that in all good conscience,
knowing that Mahler's last and unequivocal wish was for the Andante to come
first, I felt I had to go with the Andante/Scherzo order. My musical
philosophy dictates that we must, to the best of our ability, realize the
wishes of the composer and the last wishes must have precedence over earlier
ones, except in very extraordinary circumstances, such as his superstitious
elimination of the third hammer blow.
That, I thought was that. But it turned out not to be so. As I was sitting
on my stool at the beginning of the break, the first trumpet player, looking
very upset, even disturbed, came up to me and put down a "white sheet" on my
music stand. On the sheet I had printed three questions:
1) What has worked
about the preparation of this concert?
2) What has not worked?
3) On what would you like to me to focus during this
evening's performance.
Under the second question he wrote
"Scherzo third!!!! I am so thoroughly disappointed that the Andante is second,
that the only way I can deal with my anger is to put it into Mahler. Sorry
if I lose it tonight. It's either that or some violent act with dire
consequences."
Under the final question, "on what would you like me to focus..." He wrote
"I don't know. I don't know the piece you've decided to conduct tonight."
Now I understood why he hadn't been playing for much of the previous section
of the rehearsal. I had thought it was to save his lip for the evening
performance. It was because he was too upset and angry about the reversal of
the movements.
Well, I sat on my chair throughout the break and when the orchestra
reassembled I announced that I had decided to stick with my original decision
to play the Scherzo first. I said, in spite of the compelling arguments in
Jerry Bruck's article, I was not prepared to give up the structural truth I
felt in the original design. I told them that in my view the first three
movements move inexorably to the emotional climax in the Andante. The
Scherzo must bring no relief. We must wait for a long time for what John
Allison in the Times referred to as "the consoling desolation of the slow
movement" and especially for the "glowing climax, (at 61) the only moment of
true bliss in the work." But my more immediate reason for my decision was
the passionate conviction of my first trumpet player and the fear that whole
experience of playing the symphony would be threatened by my decision. Too
high a price to pay!
Then I saw something remarkable. The blood returned to the face of the first
trumpet who took up his instrument and poured his heart out for the rest of
the rehearsal and during the entire performance that night. He thanked me
and said I had saved the performance that night for him by going back on my
decision.. He had also told me at the previous day's rehearsal that his
entire life and everything he had ever done had pointed to Wednesday night's
performance of Mahler's sixth.
Well, I certainly got enrolled in this young man's passion and I am glad to
report that, as a result of the performance, I am now even more convinced
that the Scherzo must come first, though I don't plan to try and persuade
anyone else of my opinion. The Telarc recording will be published with the
scherzo first and there will undoubtedly be some discussion of all this on
the companion disc. But the reason I am telling this story is to show what
incredibly passionate and unreasonable people (in the best sense) musicians
can be when they are still in school. Could he preserve such a do-or-die
attitude in the professional world? I fear not, but the special sense of
urgency and enthusiasm that has often been spoken of as characteristic of
performances by pre-professional orchestras might have its source in just
this passion and conviction
Forgive for the inordinate length of this letter. But I though you might like
to know!
Warmest good wishes
Ben Zander
END