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Won't be waiting for horn section in Mahler
The dark night of the adrenal soul
Adrenaline junkie, Gustav Mahler, in 1892
As we embark upon the first masterworks season at The Jacobs Music Center I’ve been thinking about my expectations. Apparently, expectations are bad and are destined to create disappointment—for the most part. Intentions, on the other hand, are supposed to be good, except for the unintended consequences of good intentions. I’ve also been thinking about the axiom, “you get out of it what you put into it”. I have lots and lots of thoughts.
Fortunately, I don’t have to figure out my expectations, intentions, and put-into-it-ness on my own. I can find some help from an artist such as Glenn Gould. Gould may be a polarizing figure in the vast tapestry of classical music but he did say this: “The purpose of art is not the release of a momentary ejection of adrenaline but rather the gradual, lifelong construction of a state of wonder and serenity.”
I know for a fact that I spent years chasing that adrenaline shot. For instance, I used to listen to recording after recording or Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 2 trying to find the one with the most epic intonation of the resurrection theme by the horn section. Such a quest distracted me from a more profound experience of the music.
Looking for the most epic rendition is a superficial and juvenile approach. Let us not get it twisted, compared to doom scrolling it is a veritable dark night of the soul but it was a superficial interaction with the mysteries of Mahler’s art.
Many of us want something beyond the superficial. The superficiality of our current culture makes the mere act of attending the symphony a heroic journey but there are infinite musical levels to discover over the course of a lifetime, according to Glenn Gould.
I’ve stopped chasing the dragon of musical adrenaline, but where does that leave me? Now, I have intentions. I think a good place to start is with Gould’s quote. Attending the concert intending to cultivate a sense of wonder and serenity sounds pretty good, but how does one go about it?
I think the key, as cliche as this is going to sound, is staying in the present musical moment. For years I attended concerts impatiently waiting for “the good part”, aka, the adrenaline hit. There is no wonder or serenity in impatience. There is a sense of knowing where the music is headed and wishing it would get there sooner. The magic is in the journey, not the destination. I’m tyring to include as many platitudes as possible at this point.
What am I going to put into this season? Nothing.
What I mean by nothing is neutrality. I often judge a concert before I arrive based on the repertoire. I look forward to certain pieces such as Anton Bruckner’s Symphony No. 7 which arrives at the Jacobs Music Center in May. Previously, I would have a different mindset going to that concert than I would hearing Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 5, again, in October—no more programming partisanship.
The horns are at the 1:02:00 mark. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oi6ZjkXFlcU
Here's something you might be interested in.
Won't be waiting for horn section in Mahler
The dark night of the adrenal soul
Won't be waiting for horn section in Mahler
The dark night of the adrenal soul
Adrenaline junkie, Gustav Mahler, in 1892
As we embark upon the first masterworks season at The Jacobs Music Center I’ve been thinking about my expectations. Apparently, expectations are bad and are destined to create disappointment—for the most part. Intentions, on the other hand, are supposed to be good, except for the unintended consequences of good intentions. I’ve also been thinking about the axiom, “you get out of it what you put into it”. I have lots and lots of thoughts.
Fortunately, I don’t have to figure out my expectations, intentions, and put-into-it-ness on my own. I can find some help from an artist such as Glenn Gould. Gould may be a polarizing figure in the vast tapestry of classical music but he did say this: “The purpose of art is not the release of a momentary ejection of adrenaline but rather the gradual, lifelong construction of a state of wonder and serenity.”
I know for a fact that I spent years chasing that adrenaline shot. For instance, I used to listen to recording after recording or Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 2 trying to find the one with the most epic intonation of the resurrection theme by the horn section. Such a quest distracted me from a more profound experience of the music.
Looking for the most epic rendition is a superficial and juvenile approach. Let us not get it twisted, compared to doom scrolling it is a veritable dark night of the soul but it was a superficial interaction with the mysteries of Mahler’s art.
Many of us want something beyond the superficial. The superficiality of our current culture makes the mere act of attending the symphony a heroic journey but there are infinite musical levels to discover over the course of a lifetime, according to Glenn Gould.
I’ve stopped chasing the dragon of musical adrenaline, but where does that leave me? Now, I have intentions. I think a good place to start is with Gould’s quote. Attending the concert intending to cultivate a sense of wonder and serenity sounds pretty good, but how does one go about it?
I think the key, as cliche as this is going to sound, is staying in the present musical moment. For years I attended concerts impatiently waiting for “the good part”, aka, the adrenaline hit. There is no wonder or serenity in impatience. There is a sense of knowing where the music is headed and wishing it would get there sooner. The magic is in the journey, not the destination. I’m tyring to include as many platitudes as possible at this point.
What am I going to put into this season? Nothing.
What I mean by nothing is neutrality. I often judge a concert before I arrive based on the repertoire. I look forward to certain pieces such as Anton Bruckner’s Symphony No. 7 which arrives at the Jacobs Music Center in May. Previously, I would have a different mindset going to that concert than I would hearing Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 5, again, in October—no more programming partisanship.
The horns are at the 1:02:00 mark. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oi6ZjkXFlcU