in the realm of obscure feeling

Tomorrow I get to see a performance of one of my favorite symphonies of all time. (Never mind that I only really know a handful, it's still my favorite)

About five years ago, Mahler's 1st ("The Titan," as it's called) was essentially burned into my brain, mostly by accident. I had meticulously packed a set of about two dozen CDs for a train trip, but when I got onboard I realized I'd remembered my discman and headphones but forgot the travel case of discs. When I popped the CD player open I saw that it was a copy of Mahler's first that I'd picked up a few months before. It was a long and stormy train ride, and I never forgot it.

My introduction to Mahler actually took place before that, during my sophomore year at college. My roommate Pat was a music student, and even though he specialized in the French horn, he often fell asleep at the piano after hours of playing classical pieces I'd never heard of. I'd sit nearby in the parlor of the scholarship hall, entranced by the intricate and inspired melodies that carried us both to the end of the night. "Who was that?" I'd ask Pat at a pause in his playing. More often than not it was Mahler.

I'm no Mahler scholar, but my two favorites are probably the first and the ninth symphonies, especially when conducted by the composer's personal friend, Bruno Walter or some other reputable conductor like Leondard Bernstein. Even if I was an expert on classical music, I'd still probably refrain from writing anything else about him here. As Mahler himself said about a hundred years ago,

"Let the public have its own thoughts about the work performed. Let it not be forced to read during the performance, let no preconceived ideas be instilled into it! If a composer has of himself impressed upon his listeners the feelings that surged through him, his object has been attained. The speech of tones has then approached that of words; but it has infinitely more to impart than words can express."

If you go to NYtimes.com and do a search for Mahler, you can actually pull up PDFs of the original articles such as this one about Mahler's work being performed in the U.S. for the first time.

If you're in the KC area, there might still be some tickets for Friday or Saturday night. I know if you're a student with an ID you can sometimes show up and get a $5 dollar rush seat. Doesn't always work, but it's worth a try. Whether you've got a strong interest in the composer, a fascination with timpani drums or are just looking for a classy place to zone out, you'll likely enjoy some aspect of watching the KC Symphony under Michael Stern. More info at kcsymphony.org.

Until then, I'll give the final word to Mahler, from the end of the previously linked-to 1908 NY Times article:

"I, for one, know well that, so long as my life happenings can be conveyed fitly through words, I will not use them as a musical theme. The longing to express myself musically comes over me only in the realm of obscure feelings, at the threshold of the world beyond, the world in which the categories of time and space rule no more."