Mahler in the netherlands

In 1902, Gustav Mahler met the young conductor Willem Mengelberg, marking the beginning of a close friendship and a strong Mahler tradition in the Netherlands. Mengelberg introduced Mahler's music to the Concertgebouw Orchestra, where the composer himself conducted several works. Thanks to Mengelberg and composer Alphons Diepenbrock, Mahler felt at home in the Netherlands, his "second musical homeland". Their collaboration left a lasting impact on Dutch musical culture.

Introduction

𝄢It all started in 1902, when Mahler conducted his Third Symphony in Krefeld, Germany. Among his audience was Willem Mengelberg, conductor of the Concertgebouw Orchestra since 1885. Mengelberg was immediately impressed by the fascinating power emanating from Mahler. In the way he approached music, he found all that hovered before him as a young conductor as an ideal. And when he met Mahler in person afterwards, a spark jumped: a friendship for life was about to be born. Mengelberg invited Mahler to conduct his symphony in Amsterdam too, the beginning of a series of concerts in which the composer premiered his own work ánd the beginning of the Dutch Mahler tradition.

But the friendship was not limited to Mengelberg. Alphons Diepenbrock, whose 100th birthday we will celebrate in 2021, was also among them.^e death anniversary, was present, as we can see from many photos. At first Diepenbrock was not very fond of Mahler, but that changed as he heard more about the composer and got to know him better. When Mahler spoke of the Netherlands as his 'second musical homeland', for him there were two people behind this feeling of home: Willem Mengelberg and Alphons Diepenbrock. Without Mengelberg, the Dutch Mahler tradition that still prevails today would not have come into being. Mengelberg introduced Mahler's works in the Netherlands when few were convinced of his genius. Year after year, he performed them (or had them performed), until the public became so familiar with them that they were able to judge their merits. Mengelberg played an important role in Mahler's life, both as a human being and as a conductor. Mahler left an indelible mark on his Amsterdam friend and fellow conductor, even beyond death.

For the Concertgebouw Orchestra

So it all began in 1902 in Krefeld; what an encounter that must have been! "Without yet knowing him personally, I attended the concert," Mengelberg recalls, "and was immediately impressed by the fascinating power emanating from him.

In his interpretation, in his technical treatment of the orchestra, in his way of phrasing and construction, I found everything that I - as a young conductor - had in mind as an ideal. And so when, after the concert, I met him in person, I was deeply moved by his music: I promised to have him perform the work in Amsterdam as well as soon as possible.

I realised that the evocative power of the composer himself would be of great importance for the understanding of this completely new artistic expression and so I proposed that he come and introduce the work to us personally". And so it happened: Mahler seized the opportunity with both hands.

He first set foot on Dutch soil in the autumn of 1903, to conduct his Third - and in a later concert, his First symphony - at the Amsterdam Concertgebouw. Mahler was pleasantly struck by the outstanding quality of the orchestra and the way Mengelberg had rehearsed the symphony.

"The general yesterday was wonderful," he writes to his wife Alma on 22 October. "Two hundred schoolboys led by their teachers (six of them) roared the bim-bam and there was a magnificent women's choir of a hundred and fifty voices! Orchestra magnificent! Much better than in Krefeld. The violins as beautiful as in Vienna."

This must be just about the highest praise Mahler could give others. all the collaborators clapped and waved without ceasing. "The music culture in this country is astounding! The way these people can listen."

What did the orchestra itself think of it? "For all staff members, the way he performed his music was extremely interesting and instructive," Mengelberg said. "Especially his rehearsals laid the foundation for our entire continued practice of his art.

Das Wichtigste steht nicht in den Noten. This was the guiding principle of his creating and also of his interpreting. And he did not tire of repeating it again and again and applying it in practice. At rehearsals, he was extremely spirited.' This characterisation did not only apply to rehearsals, by the way. Mahler was known to friend and foe alike as someone who did not mince his words and demanded the utmost from himself and those entrusted to him, be it his wife, the Hofoper or a guest orchestra.

Hotel Mengelberg

𝄞Things also click on a personal level between Mengelberg and his illustrious guest. "I am staying with Mengelberg. He seemed to want it so much that I couldn't say no and passed up my other (much better) lodgings," Mahler writes to Alma. In the evening, he sits cosily by the fireplace and chews his first piece of Edammer! So from the outset, Mahler stays at the Mengelbergs' home, and although the furnishings of the Mengelberg home do not directly correspond to his own taste (Mengelberg's house is full of mediocre and conventional art, while Mahler decorates his walls at home very sparingly), the hospitality and the good conversations far outweigh the "father's chatter hanging on the son's wall", as Mahler pithily characterises the wall decoration. (Father Mengelberg, who was thus responsible for the konterfeits on his son's walls, in turn found Mahler's music very tiresome).

Between rehearsals, there is time for walks through the city and a visit to Zaandam. Fascinated, Mahler is both by the colours and lighting of the Dutch landscape and... by the Dutch themselves, "highly original people". Again he praises to Alma the "stirring hospitality" and he is happy to be staying with the Mengelbergs, making the most of his time. The actual concert, after a somewhat uncomfortable beginning ("At first, people were a bit confused") went excellently: "General emotion and excitement, towards the end everything went as has now become familiar. After the final chord, a jubilant applause that was really quite impressive. Everyone tells me something like this hasn't happened since time immemorial." And for a moment the competition element comes around the corner, something of 'Schadenfreude' even comes through: "I beat Strauss, (meant is Richard) who is very much en vogue here, by far."

To illustrate what the press thought of the symphony, here is a small excerpt from the criticism that appeared in the 'Algemeen Handelsblad' on 23 October 1903 under the headline "'Third Symphony' by Gustav Mahler": "A triumph for our orchestra was this performance, for seldom, if ever, has it been faced with such a difficult task. And under the captivating direction of the great Weener composer and Kapellmeister, this Symphony enjoyed a performance such as Mahler himself must have said he had never heard of his work, to which the choir of Toonkunst [ladies' choir] and the boys' choir also contributed greatly. Yet the most was demanded of the orchestra, which outdid itself."

The reviewer was most impressed by movements 1, 4 and 5, especially by Mahler's stage directions for the choir: "Also contributing to the mood of the last movement was the fact that the choir remained motionless (and that for the duration of half an hour, because that's about how long the Adagio lasts!) - as Mahler said to the women's choir at the rehearsal - no noise from the choir sitting down should break the mood, it's all about the mood, and so you should all observe the utmost peace and quiet. Now that mood was there. It would be tempting to go into all kinds of details, but one has to hear this work for oneself.

Many will certainly find this work strange on first acquaintance, and may continue to find it strange on repeated listenings. But it is precisely with this symphony that we believe we must insist that after last night's performance, people should also hear today's."

𝄞Perhaps the Handelsblad's critics were setting the tone and standards at the time, because Mahler happily observes that tickets for the second performance are no longer available! It will not often happen that a modern composer, for that was Mahler after all in those days, finds a sold-out hall even at a second performance of his work. Besides the interest Mahler certainly aroused, the subscription system is partly to blame for this. Even now, many concerts are sold out on paper, but the hall, for instance at the time of winter sports or flu epidemic, is full of empty seats!

With an upturned head, Mahler begins rehearsals of the First, and again the orchestra's enthusiasm is great. Mengelberg has also prepared this symphony superbly, and Mahler believes that in Amsterdam he will "in time rule over a kind of musical island." With this feeling in mind, he wrote to Mengelberg after his return to Vienna: "I would like to tell you again on this occasion how well the beautiful days I spent with you and your dear wife have done me. I feel I have found a second musical homeland in Amsterdam." That he did not miss the mark here is attested to by the criticism in the 'Algemeen Handelsblad' of 26 October: "However one may now judge Mahler, it is certain that he belongs to the most interesting appearances of the present time. He will certainly bring back the best memories of Amsterdam. Last night, the audience was again very grateful and enthusiastic, especially when he shook hands with the leaders of the first desks. With great mastery and remarkable self-control, the composer geleld his works".

Egg of Columbus

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After this first successful visit to Amsterdam, Mahler would return to the Concertgebouw Orchestra three more times, for the last time in October 1909. A large part of his oeuvre he has thus - literally - given his own Dutch premiere. As the next symphony, the Fourth will be performed in October 1904. And here Mengelberg shows that he is a man of great vision, because how did he programme the Fourth? Before and after the interval! "What do you say to that," Mahler writes like an excited schoolboy to Alma. "They put my composition on the programme twice - after the interval it starts all over again! I am really curious whether the audience will react more warmly the second time." He considers it the egg of Columbus to introduce a new work in this way and praises the orchestra, which plays the Fourth "with ravishing purity".

Fortunately, the evening goes very well with 2×4. From the start, the audience is attentive and with each successive part, the excitement rises. The replay is entirely a success. Mahler is very appreciative of the performance(s): 'The singer sang the solo simply and stirringly expressive and the orchestra accompanied her like sunbeams. It was a painting with a golden background.' This imagery seems almost influenced by Mahler's visit to the Rembrandt House a year before. That Mahler does not sugarcoat things in front of Alma proves Balthazar Verhagen's recollection of that evening of a "not numerous but grateful audience". How important the rehearsals were is shown by another of Verhagen's recollections. During a rehearsal of the Fourth, Mahler discovered a misprint in the score. It had to be telegraphed to Vienna immediately, to the publisher, because otherwise "the whole world will play the Fourth with an error", according to the desperate composer. In his recollections of Mahler, Mengelberg, too, stresses the creative importance of his rehearsal. "One felt the music grow and awaken to life under the composer's hands. Mahler's method often went further than simply converting the notes of the score into sound: he often changed his manuscripts - according to practice and the requirements of the sound [the volume and acoustics of the hall were very decisive here]. All kinds of changes he made to his works here, partly intended only for our Concertgebouw Orchestra, partly also adopted later when the score appeared in print." Unless, of course, an error had already crept in!

Pièce de résistance of this October 1904 sojourn, however, is the Second symphony, whose choral rehearsals had already taken place while working on the Fourth. According to Mahler, the choir sang beautifully. Indeed, according to Mengelberg's recollections, Mahler found a "serious and enthusiastic co-operation" with the Toonkunst Choir.

Mahler gives the duration of this symphony to Mengelberg as an hour and a half, in contrast to the approximately three-quarter-hour Fourth, which therefore very well tolerates another, or the same, symphony on the programme. Even before he travelled to Amsterdam, Mahler had already urged Mengelberg to give him an extra rehearsal for 'der grosse Apell' (one of the most (in)exciting moments of the Second's finale) in order to properly coordinate the Fernorchester with its four trumpets, four horns and timpani and the hushed separate flute and piccolo on stage.

To this day, it has not been handed down how Mahler got those two orchestras throbbing. After all, there was no television back then. Perhaps the door to the corridor was wide open, and brass players lurked around the corner, or maybe there was an assistant conductor in the corridor.

Also, mindful of the clean wall decoration in Van Eeghenstraat, he raises the lodging problem: "Do I really have to tease your wife with my presence again. I think I will quietly go to a hotel (but in a quiet room) and make sure to be with you as much as possible; doesn't that seem best to you?" As if sensing that Mengelberg might feel hurt by this, he adds in a postscript: "I only want to go to a hotel because I don't want to be a burden to your wife - after all, I felt like a brother with you last year." Of course, the Mengelbergs don't let something like that get to them; they pick him up from the station and don't rest until Mahler goes with them!

Magic power

𝄞Also in 1906 and in March, we find Mahler at Mengelberg's home and at the Concertgebouw, this time to conduct his Fifth symphony. As with the Third, another orchestra and another conductor had already given the Fifth its Dutch premiere. For this symphony, Mahler is especially anxious. He himself definitely wants to have three rehearsals because the Fifth is "difficult, very difficult".

He requests Mengelberg to rehearse very well beforehand because otherwise they will experience something terrible. The symphony will go down the drain and he himself will be booed if the performance is not superb. Since the Fifth is not considered a full-length work by Mahler, it is decided to give the Kindertotenlieder, two Wunderhorn songs and the Rückertlied Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommenbefore the break. According to a letter to Alma, Mengelberg again acquitted himself superbly with his rehearsal task: "Everything superbly rehearsed. Sounds great. The orchestra is fantastic and particularly fond of me.

This time it is a joy rather than heavy work,' Mahler says. He concludes that Mengelberg is actually the only one to whom he would confidently entrust a work of his, which is why he also writes with satisfaction that the latter will conduct his Fifth in The Hague, Rotterdam, Haarlem, Utrecht and Arnhem.

𝄢His own performance of the Fifth and the Kindertotenlieder is judged 'beautiful' by Mahler, except for the singer, who sang too superficially. However, the truth is different, as we can see from both the press and Ms Diepenbrock's diary. After each of the Kindertotenlieder listeners left the hall by the bushes, leaving Mahler very depressed. Moreover, due to illness of the singer originally scheduled, he had had to change the programme, so the symphony sounded before the interval. "This change did not benefit the songs, which now found attention somewhat weary - the performance of the symphony lasted more than five quarters of an hour - the atmosphere in a literal and figurative sense far from pure," said the critic.

"The desired mood of the audience was also not present, some members even allowed themselves the undue freedom between the Kindertotenlieder, which are one cycle, to leave the hall with the inevitable murmur (...) That the applause after the performance of the Symphonie was not more vigorous and prolonged was somewhat explainable. People apparently heartily like to honour the best conductor that can be found for this symphony (...) but after listening to this new symphony, the audience seemed to hesitate in its judgement towards the composer." The critic himself was particularly impressed by the lovely Adagietto - "a resting bench at the side of the laborious road", and concludes by stating that there is something enigmatic Is in the composer Mahler: "He fascinates us, we can't get away. The magic power of his music has gripped us." Fortunately for Mahler, the magic power of the score of the fairy tale spoke Das klagende Lied to the entire audience and that therefore received a warm welcome, erasing the bitter aftertaste of the first night's near-fiasco.

The little-great tyrant

𝄞When Mahler left Mengelberg's house, plans had already been made to introduce his Sixth Symphony in Amsterdam the following year. There is already correspondence about the problems with the hammer (Mahler, after all, prescribes huge hammer blows in the finale, for which a special carpentry block has to be constructed), for which Mengelberg has apparently found a solution: "You are quite right, perhaps we can try out your method in Amsterdam and then still include it in the score."

He is greatly looking forward to the renewed visit to Amsterdam and hopes to bring Alma with him this time and then stay at the Amstel Hotel. Full of enthusiasm, he goes on to talk about completing his Eighth symphony (which has gone down in history as the Symphonie der Tausend because of the number of contributors to the premiere; to his mind, the most important thing he had composed up to that point). But it is so strange in content and form that he cannot write about it; it seems like suns and planets orbiting it. In October 1906, Mahler wrote to Mengelberg that his Sixth had nevertheless been another (too) hard nut to the weak teeth of the critics and was struggling through the concert halls. Partly for this reason, he looks forward to the Amsterdam performance. Vienna, however, decides otherwise: Mahler's many concert tours do not sit well with the Hofoper's board and so from now on he has to stay home more. "Unfortunately, I have to cancel the 24 January concert, but I can possibly do it in late April or early May.

In his reply, Mengelberg says he is very disappointed, but that period is too late for his audience. To Mahler's proposal to then introduce the Sixth without him, Mengelberg responds dismissively: "I want nothing more than for you to conduct the first performance yourself." So it is not until 1909 that Mahler sets foot on Dutch soil again, for the last time in his capacity as conductor. He then brings with him not the Sixth, but the Seventh symphony. This score is still in the possession of the Concertgebouw in manuscript, gifted to Willem Mengelberg by Alma.

Meanwhile, much has happened: the year 1907 turns out to be a year of disaster. Not only does Mahler have to resign as musical director of the Hofoper, but catastrophes also occur on a personal level: his eldest daughter dies of a combination of scarlet fever and diphtheria and he himself turns out to suffer from double heart valve insufficiency. Mengelberg marvels at the dismissal but says Mahler will have his reasons for it.

Their correspondence shows that there is then still talk of some concerts - with the Sixth - in January 1908. But as mentioned, the Sixth does not come and neither does Mahler. Similarly, Mahler's attempts to get Mengelberg to Boston fail (despite the tempting offer of a generous salary): Mengelberg remains in Amsterdam. There, the friends-colleagues will then meet for the last time in October 1909.

In June, Mahler writes to Mengelberg that he is available from 3 October and that he will come not with his Sixth, but with his Seventh. Again, he urges Mengelberg to prepare the symphony so well already that two or three rehearsals will suffice. Like the Fifth, this work also lasts five-quarters of an hour. "You can programme a short Haydn or Mozart symphony for that, but you have to conduct it yourself. That saves me rehearsal time." Furthermore, he is hugely looking forward to seeing his Dutch friends again and - as always - staying at the Mengelberg home.

On 27 September, Mengelberg gets Mahler off the train. The next morning is the first rehearsal under Mahler's direction: "Everything again beautifully prepared," he writes to Alma, "It sounds fantastic". So his urgent request to his colleague clearly bore fruit. Indeed, Mengelberg had spent a week under high tension rehearsing the orchestra morning and evening.

"I can't remember a work ever being rehearsed with such precision," he said.

recalls one of the then orchestra members. But then Mahler came and immediately it was a hit. At the first rehearsal, he criticised the dedication as rehearsed by Mengelberg. Loyal as the orchestra was to its chief conductor, things threatened to escalate, but fortunately Mengelberg's presence at all rehearsals acted as a catalyst: an impending revolt was averted.

The orchestra member is full of praise for Mahler as a conductor: "He was a great master, almost motionless he conducted his symphony and led the orchestra more with his eyes than with his right hand. Mahler played with the orchestra, as it were, and every musician felt that he had to play his part in the way the little-great tyrant forced him to."

Prophetic were the words Mahler uttered while walking along the Scheveningen beach. Oppressed by the already setting sun and the prevailing sea flare, he spoke:

"How ugly it all is. You know, I never want to come back here again in my life."

Indeed, this beach no longer received Mahler's footsteps; that privilege was reserved for the pavement of Leiden's Breestraat, where the legendary meeting between Mahler and Freud took place.