Please ensure Javascript is enabled for purposes of website accessibility

The Hammer of Fate

Mahler's Symphony No. 6 returns to La Scala with Lorenzo Viotti. At the heart of the piece is the famous hammer, a symbol of tragic fate, and the use of percussion that amplifies the piece's drama and intensity
xilofono

Two blows of the hammer, or perhaps three: this conundrum alone would be enough to draw attention to the role of percussion in Mahler's Symphony No. 6, which we will have the chance to hear on January 13 (and again on January 17 and 20) with Lorenzo Viotti conducting the La Scala Philharmonic.

Even those who are not ardent Mahler fans may have in mind a short video or even meme in which a giant hammer slips out of his hand and strikes an unfortunate colleague: tragicomic declension of a sonic gesture that was actually uniquely tragic for Mahler, and which ended up even becoming nefarious in the ex-post memories of his wife Alma.

In the first version of the symphony's fourth movement (Finale), from 1904, Mahler introduced three hammer blows. He later modified it, eliminating the third blow in 1906 to avoid rhetorical overabundance. In the summer of 1907, a triple blow of fate befell the Mahler household: the disappearance of his eldest daughter Maria, the diagnosis of a serious heart ailment that would lead Mahler to his grave, and his resignation from the Vienna State Opera under pressure from local meddlers.

This “desire to call out misfortunes,” as Alma said of Kindertotenlieder, is, however, the result of the woman's point of view. In Erinnerungen, Alma insists so strongly and with such gravity on the relationship between art and life (“anch’egli fu colpito tre volte dal destino e il terzo colpo lo abbatté”) (“he, too, was struck by fate three times, and the third blow knocked him down”) that the coincidence appears to be a stretch of the imagination.

What is certain is that Mahler himself used the adjective “tragic” for this symphony, which is completely detached from the Beethovenian idea of a “per aspera ad astra” path and takes a negative view or at least the idea of an overwhelming and inescapable emotional weight with extreme consequences.

To understand what exactly the composer wanted, it is important to explore his sound research.

Gerardo Capaldo, a percussionist with the Teatro alla Scala Orchestra, who plays both hammer and drum (which he plays from the second bar), points out that “Mahler wanted a short and very powerful, dull sound from the hammer. It’s a very different sound from the metallic sound Wagner calls for in the Rheingold, when the Nibelungs are working on the anvil to forge the ring. When we performed it in January 2019, here at La Scala and on tour, Maestro Chailly opted for a giant wooden hammer that struck a very large, thick surface that was also made of wood - a large empty cube. The size of the hammer is due to the fact that the acoustics of La Scala require a very powerful sound; so, we will use this instrument again. The sensation must be that of a thud, as if something very heavy is falling.”

However, the hammer is just one of the percussion instruments that the composer uses to create a “soundscape” that would not be the same without them.

“One very important thing,” says Capaldo, ”is the roll of the military drum that closes out the symphony. We have an emphasis on the drum in fortissimo, together with the lower percussion (timpani and bass drum), and then a rapid descent to pianissimo, as if in a few seconds everything will fall apart.

What's also crucial is the role of the slab bells, in gravissimo, almost church bells, and even more so that of the cowbells, often used by Mahler to evoke the alpine setting. Unlike in Richard Strauss's Alpensinfonie, to Mahler, the cowbells signal solitude, detachment from the world and from the bustle of the valley, of the city.”

At that time, in 1905, the Rückert-Lieder had been performed in Vienna, the third of which already contains the image of someone who, having travelled all the roads of the world, now wants to leave it all behind: “Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen” (Lost now I am to the world).

One of the La Scala percussionists who will play on January 13 is Francesco Muraca, who emotionally recalls when he, at just 21 years old, played the keys (xylophone and glockenspiel) for the historic concert on Oct. 31, 2012, when Claudio Abbado returned after a 26-year absence at La Scala to conduct the Sixth in person.

“Abbado's last concert at La Scala coincided with my Mahlerian percussion debut at the theatre,” says Muraca. ”I particularly remember the beautiful atmosphere created by the union of two orchestral ensembles, the La Scala Philharmonic and the Mozart Orchestra. In that concert, we explored the use of the xylophone, which Mahler does not use in any other symphony. The xylophone plays an almost paradoxical role. In theory, its timbre is light, almost comic, but, in the tragic context of Mahler's Sixth, this comic tone sounds particularly bold, to the point of being a sardonic, almost devilish grin.”

Unlike the xylophone, the glockenspiel is often present in Mahler's symphonies, lending an ethereal feel to moments of extreme lyricism and mystical concentration.

“In the fifth movement of the Third,” Muraca explains, “Mahler even includes two glockenspiels, as well as in the Seventh. In the Sixth, it is an orchestral filler. It almost always duplicates a voice that is already present in the orchestral texture.”

While it is clear that percussion plays a prominent role in Mahler's symphonies, both for the enrichment of the orchestral palette and for dramatic value, the weight that each conductor gives to this section can vary. Muraca tells us that “Chailly pays considerable attention to the starring role of percussion: it is important to him that they do not go unnoticed.”

After all, this perfect “individuation” of the individual percussion instruments already exists in Mahler's writing: “Mahler was one of the first to separate the bass drum from the cymbal, instruments that have not previously been so independent of each other.”

Gerardo Capaldo points out that sometimes an interpretive choice can also depend on the acoustics: “In Symphony No. 6, Mahler asks that the cowbells be played offstage, to convey the idea of the ringing of a herd in the distance. In certain acoustics, however, they can be completely inaudible, and it is therefore necessary to place them on the stage. The important thing is to play them very discreetly, to respect the dynamics and Mahler's idea”.

 

Luca Ciammarughi