chamber fridays, in honor of classical music hour on fridays at princeton (or because i felt like i needed to have a day dedicated to chamber music)
this sextet might be brahms's best work for a chamber group that doesn't include piano. the problem with a lot of his string quartets is that he basically tries to write a piano piece and then divide it among the four string parts - at least, this is what it sounds to me. so invariably some instrument ends up with an ostinato or half of a chord that isn't quite as fulfilling because it doesn't fill out the texture the way it would on a piano. even if he assigns double stops and the like to the string instruments, because of all the different voices/timbres, it still often sounds sort of thin or ungrounded.
this is a problem brahms solves in this piece by adding more instruments. it's easy to imagine that things might get bogged down quickly with six instruments - 150% the normal group - and it is indeed a very, very different experience playing with six people as opposed to four. but i think i would be hard-pressed to find moments in this sextet that are actually too thick the way they might be if other composers tried to tackle the same ensemble.
there aren't that many string sextets out there - the other famous one is, of course, tchaik's souvenir de florence, which also doesn't have *that* much trouble being heard clearly, but this is because it's basically a first violin concerto (and sometimes a cello concerto). the same goes for mendelssohn's string octet. it seems the bigger the ensemble, the more need for one, perhaps two parts to come out prominently by virtue of being higher or more melodic). there's something about the magic number four that makes the string quartet full enough to be gratifying, but still an "equal" partnership among the four players. i think this is still the sort of aesthetic brahms goes for even with six players, though, and i think this is actually much more successful than his string quartet endeavors.
ok, on to the actual piece.
this sextet was written in 1860, just after the first piano concerto (op. 15). during this time he was basically juggling jobs between hamburg and detmold. this was also at the height of his public "feud" against the school of wagner and liszt, who thought he was too old-fashioned. he would later withdraw from that argument entirely. he later earned more widespread popularity in 1868 with Ein Deutsche Requiem.
this movement is a set of theme and variations. brahms is one of the only composers whom i consistently "trust" to handle this form in a way that maintains my interest. i think this has something to do with his ability to fill in a plain theme with a unique contour and insert a moment (in this case, a couple variations) of absolute gorgeousness. with this movement, every variation taps something really visceral, and the soft/major variations are sublime.
fantastic, raw, and very powerful recording, especially the first major variation. for comparison's sake,
this version is much more demure - you can hear it in the first two seconds. it's got its own beauty in its cleanliness and grace, but for me there's no real comparison.
edit: after discovering the first video is no longer legal in the US (and actually not having any idea who it was), i have begrudgingly looked up a second recording which i also consider to be very powerful.
the movement has the following variations:
I. theme, which is so simple and tuneful and yet angsty and intense that it really keeps your interest from the get-go, something already unique in the realm of themes and variations - themes usually are so simple you can't wait to hear what the composer's going to do and can we please just get the theme over with. not so here.
II. a variation which passes the arpeggios between all the instruments while keeping the firm marching chords on top of them
III. triplet variation. he throws in some great harmonic changes just at the end of the first half - switching to F major just briefly before descending back.
IV. stormy harmonic minor scales with lots of surging swells
V. the first major variation: songful and broad and breathy. the transition into this variation is an awesome moment.
VI. a much more delicate gossamer variation - the melody, given to the first viola, becomes something gentle and flowing (it doesn't even really sound like a melody - more like the harmony part, if a more straightforward version of the melody were present). it's accompanied by open strings and falling open intervals in the violins.
VII. a reprise of the theme, except made more solemn, heavier, by giving the melody to the cello and accompanying that with heavy, rhythmic pizzicati. marches on to a quiet close that somehow morphs into major magically just before the end.
aaaaaahhhhh it's so good!!!
Friday, January 7, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Bruch: Violin Concerto No. 1 in G minor, Op. 26 - II. Adagio
ok so i'm putting off mozart another day because today is a very special day! and i'm going to commemorate it with some sappy romantic music that everyone already knows :D and today is bruch's birthday, so this is also a pretty good excuse.
bruch wrote this concerto and, unbeknownst to a lot of violinists, two other ones that apparently he thought were just as good (history has not been kind to these other concerti, unfortunately). this first one was composed first in 1866, premiered, and then revised with help from the famous joachim, who premiered that in 1868. and that's the piece we hear today.
i have always felt that the second movement was *far and away* the best of the three movements. from the warm key to the core melody, the majestic arpeggios, the beautiful climax, it's pretty much all there.
can't really lose here.
i've always felt that this slow movement is great at being melodic without being shrill, even with the alternating a-bflats in the climax. just listen to the beginning of the movement. it is romantic without really being thick, even though sometimes the movement does get a hair repetitive or cheesy with arpeggios, stretched out chromatic passing tones, etc. this is really quite well mitigated by many violinists though, if they can convey the pathos of these moments without necessarily making them excessive, and also if they can find moments other than the obvious ones to deliver on. it is so easy with romantic concerti to fall into a rote interpretation.
there is pretty much no better example of the ability to convey intensity without excess (yeah, he does this weird open d string thing in the second line or so that just sounds strange, but just listen to the length of his phrases...)
ok i really want to kill blogger right now for its fail youtube search which refuses to give me this video among its search options. but you must watch this! you need to turn the volume up because it's set so low on this video, but it's definitely worth it.
Ida Haendel at 77(?) years in 2005
i'm ashamed to admit i didn't even know whether she was still alive, but this video is fascinating. there are a number of orchestral following fails and also fairly common intonation blunders. but this is so amazing by virtue of the fact that she has *so much conviction* it makes me want to back up because of the intensity. i would usually call mistakes in intonation "slips," but after listening to this you will have to agree that nothing she does can be really called a "slip" because through all these 'errors' she is playing with such oomph that you don't even care that the errors are being made anymore. it's like THIS IS THE WAY I'M GONNA DO IT NOW PUT UP OR SHUT UP. lets keep in mind that she's 77, if you or i can play like that at 77 then we can talk about those things.
o my this is so intense.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Dinicu: Hora Staccato
OK, I admit it... i forgot to do the post earlier oops. and now i had to configure email submission bc my postwriter is being slow and retarded. so, here is the most awesome hora staccato you'll ever hear (and watch)!
check out that downbow staccato.
dinicu was a romanian composer/violin virtuoso. he wrote this piece for his own graduation from bucharest conservatory in 1906 and played it there. win!
i promise not to forget tomorrow :(
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
guess!
i love to play this game with this composer in particular because he wrote some stuff that was so very atypical of what we (as musicians) know him for. this has been stuck in my head for a bit. if you feel like playing the guessing game, click here and close your eyes and try to guess the composer.
after you've finished the little guessing game read on below.
this is the waltz from "the first echelon," film music written in 1956. it was later included in his "suite for variety orchestra no. 1" (8 movements from various film/ballet music scores)
much as i hate to do this, i'm just going to paraphrase a blurb i found while searching: shotakovich wrote quite a lot of light-spirited music, for films, plays, or plain entertainment, and they don't really have much meaning apart from that. after an initial growing pains kind of period while he suffered the "initiation" of becoming a "soviet" artist, he got used to writing music that toed the line. and paid the bills. by this time stalin was dead, of course, but film music had become one of his staples, financially speaking.
this waltz is so cute. i'm playing it in an orchestra right now for a coffee concert and it's been stuck in my head all day.
i was originally going to do some mozart today, but i got home with only 20 minutes to midnight to spare so you get something really simple today. enjoy ;)
(originally had the jump function incorporated into this post. however apparently using this feature causes the text editor on blogger to royally freeze up, so no more jumps. sorry if seeing the extra information spoiled it for anyone.)
after you've finished the little guessing game read on below.
this is the waltz from "the first echelon," film music written in 1956. it was later included in his "suite for variety orchestra no. 1" (8 movements from various film/ballet music scores)
much as i hate to do this, i'm just going to paraphrase a blurb i found while searching: shotakovich wrote quite a lot of light-spirited music, for films, plays, or plain entertainment, and they don't really have much meaning apart from that. after an initial growing pains kind of period while he suffered the "initiation" of becoming a "soviet" artist, he got used to writing music that toed the line. and paid the bills. by this time stalin was dead, of course, but film music had become one of his staples, financially speaking.
this waltz is so cute. i'm playing it in an orchestra right now for a coffee concert and it's been stuck in my head all day.
i was originally going to do some mozart today, but i got home with only 20 minutes to midnight to spare so you get something really simple today. enjoy ;)
(originally had the jump function incorporated into this post. however apparently using this feature causes the text editor on blogger to royally freeze up, so no more jumps. sorry if seeing the extra information spoiled it for anyone.)
Monday, January 3, 2011
Barber: Violin Concerto, Op. 14
Something easy for today. After I get into the habit of doing this I'll start branching out.
I. Allegro
II. Andante
III. Presto in moto perpetuo
this concerto was written/published in 1939 on commission by this industrialist named Fels and originally was to be performed by one of Barber's Curtis classmates, a violinist named briselli. the entire complicated history of its composition is readable on the wiki page in much more detail than i care to discuss. we'll just note here that briselli rejected the premiere of the work because in his opinion, the last movement needed to be heftier. it's only about 3-4 minutes long (there is somewhat of a competition about how short one can make's one's recording of this movement, which hilary hahn has pretty much dominated thus far at a handy 3:24 and 216 bpm which is actually as fast as my metronome goes. i can't remember the original metronome marking, but it's well below 200... wtf).
because of this work's relative simplicity it's kind of difficult to only do one movement unless i'm planning on doing a formal analysis, so here is anne akiko meyers's recording of the whole thing.
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-171252879226640654#
(for some reason blogger doesn't have a tool for inserting google videos into blogposts, only youtube videos. what?)
i really like this recording, btw, although maybe that's just because of the mounds of student ones i had to wade through to find it. she is a very, very aggressive player sometimes, so i find her climaxes fantastic, especially the one in her first movement. but i guess sometimes she doesn't quite achieve the lightness that i am searching for, for instance in the second sixteenth-note subject in the first movement.
here also is the first movement of gil shaham's, which i have to say is probably one of the only recordings he does that i genuinely like.
most of shaham's stuff leaves me sort of unfulfilled, and maybe his last movement of this concerto also falls into that category. but it's a very sweet recording of a very sweet and pretty simple concerto.
most discussions of this work just point out that this is generally a great example of the sort of "popularism" that was emblematic of these couple decades in American classical composition - the same sort that copland, weill, and a lot of others engaged in during this time. gibson is pretty much correct when he says that it was idiotic of the violinist to reject the concerto, which "just about screams, 'i am going to be one of the most popular violin concertos in history, and i will make your career.' " with like a thousand student recordings of it on youtube, who can really argue? it's no wonder that the songful nature of the first movement have made it a favorite among violinists. with listeners, though, it's actually probably the last movement which really impresses. brief though it is, it's the only really virtuosic thing of the concerto, and i once attended a concert in which the audience probably would not have given more than two ovations if not for the finale (you could feel the dampness in the air after the second movement...)
it's a good leadin to the discussion of popularism during this period of america's compositional history but i'm not really in the mood, so i'll just say that it is so accessible in its structure and yet very sophisticated in its harmonies (uniquely barber - lots of major seconds imposed on fifths and the like), that it's hard to "feel bad" about liking it. i think the fact that it's such a favorite among violinists is very telling.
i will also mention that the second movement is actually by far my favorite. get a load of the augmented tenths. also the oboe solo at the beginning (brahms anyone?)
it's actually a little hard to see how the piece hangs together. the melodies are so clear, so simplistic, it's a bit hard to see how anything in the first movement is reflected in the latter two movements. but as i was working on this piece a few years back i held onto exactly one moment in each movement that seemed to tie the movements together - near the end of each movement (in the cadenza section for the first and second movement, and somewhere in the second half of the third, though i may just be dreaming about this one and it is probably a coincidence) there is an attention-getting two-octave thing.
anyway it's a great bit of fun to play. i can blabber about it for a while, but i'd rather just go listen to the second movement, bye!
I. Allegro
II. Andante
III. Presto in moto perpetuo
this concerto was written/published in 1939 on commission by this industrialist named Fels and originally was to be performed by one of Barber's Curtis classmates, a violinist named briselli. the entire complicated history of its composition is readable on the wiki page in much more detail than i care to discuss. we'll just note here that briselli rejected the premiere of the work because in his opinion, the last movement needed to be heftier. it's only about 3-4 minutes long (there is somewhat of a competition about how short one can make's one's recording of this movement, which hilary hahn has pretty much dominated thus far at a handy 3:24 and 216 bpm which is actually as fast as my metronome goes. i can't remember the original metronome marking, but it's well below 200... wtf).
because of this work's relative simplicity it's kind of difficult to only do one movement unless i'm planning on doing a formal analysis, so here is anne akiko meyers's recording of the whole thing.
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-171252879226640654#
(for some reason blogger doesn't have a tool for inserting google videos into blogposts, only youtube videos. what?)
i really like this recording, btw, although maybe that's just because of the mounds of student ones i had to wade through to find it. she is a very, very aggressive player sometimes, so i find her climaxes fantastic, especially the one in her first movement. but i guess sometimes she doesn't quite achieve the lightness that i am searching for, for instance in the second sixteenth-note subject in the first movement.
here also is the first movement of gil shaham's, which i have to say is probably one of the only recordings he does that i genuinely like.
most of shaham's stuff leaves me sort of unfulfilled, and maybe his last movement of this concerto also falls into that category. but it's a very sweet recording of a very sweet and pretty simple concerto.
most discussions of this work just point out that this is generally a great example of the sort of "popularism" that was emblematic of these couple decades in American classical composition - the same sort that copland, weill, and a lot of others engaged in during this time. gibson is pretty much correct when he says that it was idiotic of the violinist to reject the concerto, which "just about screams, 'i am going to be one of the most popular violin concertos in history, and i will make your career.' " with like a thousand student recordings of it on youtube, who can really argue? it's no wonder that the songful nature of the first movement have made it a favorite among violinists. with listeners, though, it's actually probably the last movement which really impresses. brief though it is, it's the only really virtuosic thing of the concerto, and i once attended a concert in which the audience probably would not have given more than two ovations if not for the finale (you could feel the dampness in the air after the second movement...)
it's a good leadin to the discussion of popularism during this period of america's compositional history but i'm not really in the mood, so i'll just say that it is so accessible in its structure and yet very sophisticated in its harmonies (uniquely barber - lots of major seconds imposed on fifths and the like), that it's hard to "feel bad" about liking it. i think the fact that it's such a favorite among violinists is very telling.
i will also mention that the second movement is actually by far my favorite. get a load of the augmented tenths. also the oboe solo at the beginning (brahms anyone?)
it's actually a little hard to see how the piece hangs together. the melodies are so clear, so simplistic, it's a bit hard to see how anything in the first movement is reflected in the latter two movements. but as i was working on this piece a few years back i held onto exactly one moment in each movement that seemed to tie the movements together - near the end of each movement (in the cadenza section for the first and second movement, and somewhere in the second half of the third, though i may just be dreaming about this one and it is probably a coincidence) there is an attention-getting two-octave thing.
anyway it's a great bit of fun to play. i can blabber about it for a while, but i'd rather just go listen to the second movement, bye!
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Dvorak: Symphony No. 7 - II. Poco Adagio
this whole symphony is closely related - directly inspired, in fact - to brahms 3rd, which is probably one of my favorite three symphonies of all time. this symphony, too, is a great favorite of mine, especially the very popular third mvt. :)
this is a pretty sympathetic recording, if a bit on the brisk side. youtube actually doesn't offer a whole lot for this movement.
i'll be brief today. this symphony was written in 1885. it's the first of the trilogy of symphonies dvorak is mostly known for, originally billed as No. 2, composed on commission by the London Royal Philharmonic Society [dvorak's symphonies were pretty much all published out of order in terms of when he actually composed them. see if you can find the original order :) ]. he wanted it to reflect the political struggles of the Czech, but as opposed to being simply full of patriotism, it was a pretty conscious attempt to internationalize his message. probably every program note ever written about this symphony mentions two quotes by dvorak - "may this czech music move the world" (referring to the symphony) and "there is not one superfluous note" (referring to the 2nd mvt in particular).
the reason he refers to the 2nd movement this way is because originally the movement was about 150% as long. a really interesting experiment using his original score for this movement can be found here.
http://kingouf.wordpress.com/jukebox/dvorak-symphony-no-7/
the coolest thing, i think, is how you can sort of hear nuggets of the third movement in the stuff that gets cut out (beginning about 4 minutes in). i don't think anyone knows for sure, but it is kind of cool to imagine that he culled the superfluous parts of the 2nd mvt to make them into the awesome 3rd mvt that we know.
other things to note about the symphony in general are the semi-program/subtitles attached to it. it's sometimes called the "tragic" symphony, usually with reference to the then-recent death of his mother, and makes terrific use of an "undercurrent" of tension - sometimes (as in the very opening of the symphony) with drones and tremolo, other times (as in the sinuous string melody around 1:15 of the recording, and the dark colored wind chords that affirm it). more subtly, notice how almost every line ends in sort of wistfulness, never really reaching the heights you want it to (just listen to the beginning - it's nice chorale writing, but not exactly cathartic).
for one of the most beautiful horn solos and horn writing, go to 2:20. fantastic.
one of my favorite things about dvorak slow movements is that they aren't ever sleepy. note the tumultuous f minor section at 3:02 (one more "disappointment" arrival, when you think it's going to hit the big F Major... and it keeps getting further - d-flat major after this). also note how the line keeps falling and falling.
as a violinist i'm pretty much obliged to have my favorite part in the movement be the violin melody at 3:56 which is angsty and songful and really worth savoring, especially the out-of-nowhere d-sharp (and the big b-octave yawn right after that).
but as always in dvorak, celli get the best melodies (5:22). man, i wish i could play that instrument.
this is a pretty sympathetic recording, if a bit on the brisk side. youtube actually doesn't offer a whole lot for this movement.
i'll be brief today. this symphony was written in 1885. it's the first of the trilogy of symphonies dvorak is mostly known for, originally billed as No. 2, composed on commission by the London Royal Philharmonic Society [dvorak's symphonies were pretty much all published out of order in terms of when he actually composed them. see if you can find the original order :) ]. he wanted it to reflect the political struggles of the Czech, but as opposed to being simply full of patriotism, it was a pretty conscious attempt to internationalize his message. probably every program note ever written about this symphony mentions two quotes by dvorak - "may this czech music move the world" (referring to the symphony) and "there is not one superfluous note" (referring to the 2nd mvt in particular).
the reason he refers to the 2nd movement this way is because originally the movement was about 150% as long. a really interesting experiment using his original score for this movement can be found here.
http://kingouf.wordpress.com/jukebox/dvorak-symphony-no-7/
the coolest thing, i think, is how you can sort of hear nuggets of the third movement in the stuff that gets cut out (beginning about 4 minutes in). i don't think anyone knows for sure, but it is kind of cool to imagine that he culled the superfluous parts of the 2nd mvt to make them into the awesome 3rd mvt that we know.
other things to note about the symphony in general are the semi-program/subtitles attached to it. it's sometimes called the "tragic" symphony, usually with reference to the then-recent death of his mother, and makes terrific use of an "undercurrent" of tension - sometimes (as in the very opening of the symphony) with drones and tremolo, other times (as in the sinuous string melody around 1:15 of the recording, and the dark colored wind chords that affirm it). more subtly, notice how almost every line ends in sort of wistfulness, never really reaching the heights you want it to (just listen to the beginning - it's nice chorale writing, but not exactly cathartic).
for one of the most beautiful horn solos and horn writing, go to 2:20. fantastic.
one of my favorite things about dvorak slow movements is that they aren't ever sleepy. note the tumultuous f minor section at 3:02 (one more "disappointment" arrival, when you think it's going to hit the big F Major... and it keeps getting further - d-flat major after this). also note how the line keeps falling and falling.
as a violinist i'm pretty much obliged to have my favorite part in the movement be the violin melody at 3:56 which is angsty and songful and really worth savoring, especially the out-of-nowhere d-sharp (and the big b-octave yawn right after that).
but as always in dvorak, celli get the best melodies (5:22). man, i wish i could play that instrument.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Mahler: Symphony No. 3 - III. Comodo. Scherzando. Ohne Hast
Ohne hast means without haste.
this movement is one of my favorite of all mahler movements. i get the ending stuck in my head all the time. i don't know how appropriate for beginnings this is, but i decided to get it out of my system because it's been there for several days.
the symphony was composed from 1895-6, and really out of order. the first movement was composed last, and it's basically the first half of a 1.5 hour symphony (the beginning of which is pretty fun if you listen to it with an ear to the last movement of brahms 1).
originally the entire symphony had this big program attached to it and every movement came with a "what the [flowers, animals, man, child, angels, love] tell(s) me" subtitle. (this scherzo was originally "what the cuckoo tells me," then later "what the animals tell me"). the subtitles were dropped later in the typical debate about the value of program - mahler said that the attempt to "provide non-musicians with something to hold on to... the expressive content of the various movements" had failed and "led only to misinterpretations of the most horrendous sort" (Steinberg). so don't take the titles too seriously, basically.
there's an interesting abstractionism even in the original titles, as programmatic as they might be. "what love tells me" (the original subtitle of the sixth and last movement) isn't exactly a plotted storyline. so you might say that having the subtitles couldn't hurt too much. but their lack of specificity is also a double-edged sword: why have them if they provide so little real direction - or worse, if they appear to refer to such platitudes that people can only misinterpret the composer's actual, much more subtle intention? that danger is probably greatest in this movement. "what the animals in the forest tell me" is liable to lend itself to all sorts of kitschy assignments as to what instrument represents which animal's or tree's voice, which sections are indicative of wind rustling leaves, etc. once those sorts of cute assignments get ingrained, one's attention might forever be focused on "oh cool, there is the clarinet cuckoo" rather than whatever more subtle or holistic experience mahler had in mind.
ok, this is actually getting lengthier than i intended, so here are some notes about the actual movement.
it basically rips the entirety of a song he wrote for das knaben wunderhorn, titled Ablösung im Sommer. i'm only linking the video because i don't think it's that important. you can also find the text here. (from this it's readily apparent where the original "cuckoo" subtitle came from, and maybe find a bit of the semi-morbid playfulness, but other than that i'm not convinced the text should really be the lens for this movement).
the melody is simple enough but starting at 2:49 with the addition of the flowery violin descant (if you will) he layers it on and makes it much more chromatic and twisted and difficult to hear the original seed (i like the big chromatic scale at 3:57). big affinity for chromatic downwards twists in the whole movement. also note the tattoo of
in various configurations, throughout, but always with the fifth or octave leap.
there's a really dramatic offstage posthorn solo that comes up twice, probably everyone's favorite moment(s) of the whole piece. starts off with a fanfare of fourths and fifths and octaves and then goes into an extended song.
my personal favorite moment of the piece is at the end of the second posthorn solo, which starts at about 4:35. i like the big compression of the motif depicted above leading into the e-flat minor crash and the big harp flourishes. the subsequent trombone soli is apparently a reference to brass music in the finale of the 2nd symphony.
i don't know why, but i find the last about 20 bars super compelling, i think because of the rhythms, and also because of the use of the c major triad to c-e-aflat (what is that? augmented six in the parallel minor? my theory is out of commission =/).
ok, this took way longer than i wanted it to oops.
this movement is one of my favorite of all mahler movements. i get the ending stuck in my head all the time. i don't know how appropriate for beginnings this is, but i decided to get it out of my system because it's been there for several days.
the symphony was composed from 1895-6, and really out of order. the first movement was composed last, and it's basically the first half of a 1.5 hour symphony (the beginning of which is pretty fun if you listen to it with an ear to the last movement of brahms 1).
originally the entire symphony had this big program attached to it and every movement came with a "what the [flowers, animals, man, child, angels, love] tell(s) me" subtitle. (this scherzo was originally "what the cuckoo tells me," then later "what the animals tell me"). the subtitles were dropped later in the typical debate about the value of program - mahler said that the attempt to "provide non-musicians with something to hold on to... the expressive content of the various movements" had failed and "led only to misinterpretations of the most horrendous sort" (Steinberg). so don't take the titles too seriously, basically.
there's an interesting abstractionism even in the original titles, as programmatic as they might be. "what love tells me" (the original subtitle of the sixth and last movement) isn't exactly a plotted storyline. so you might say that having the subtitles couldn't hurt too much. but their lack of specificity is also a double-edged sword: why have them if they provide so little real direction - or worse, if they appear to refer to such platitudes that people can only misinterpret the composer's actual, much more subtle intention? that danger is probably greatest in this movement. "what the animals in the forest tell me" is liable to lend itself to all sorts of kitschy assignments as to what instrument represents which animal's or tree's voice, which sections are indicative of wind rustling leaves, etc. once those sorts of cute assignments get ingrained, one's attention might forever be focused on "oh cool, there is the clarinet cuckoo" rather than whatever more subtle or holistic experience mahler had in mind.
ok, this is actually getting lengthier than i intended, so here are some notes about the actual movement.
it basically rips the entirety of a song he wrote for das knaben wunderhorn, titled Ablösung im Sommer. i'm only linking the video because i don't think it's that important. you can also find the text here. (from this it's readily apparent where the original "cuckoo" subtitle came from, and maybe find a bit of the semi-morbid playfulness, but other than that i'm not convinced the text should really be the lens for this movement).
the melody is simple enough but starting at 2:49 with the addition of the flowery violin descant (if you will) he layers it on and makes it much more chromatic and twisted and difficult to hear the original seed (i like the big chromatic scale at 3:57). big affinity for chromatic downwards twists in the whole movement. also note the tattoo of
there's a really dramatic offstage posthorn solo that comes up twice, probably everyone's favorite moment(s) of the whole piece. starts off with a fanfare of fourths and fifths and octaves and then goes into an extended song.
my personal favorite moment of the piece is at the end of the second posthorn solo, which starts at about 4:35. i like the big compression of the motif depicted above leading into the e-flat minor crash and the big harp flourishes. the subsequent trombone soli is apparently a reference to brass music in the finale of the 2nd symphony.
i don't know why, but i find the last about 20 bars super compelling, i think because of the rhythms, and also because of the use of the c major triad to c-e-aflat (what is that? augmented six in the parallel minor? my theory is out of commission =/).
ok, this took way longer than i wanted it to oops.
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