Mahler Entry (I)
So rehearsals for Mahler 9 begin tomorrow. Mahler entered my life as a teenager. I spent hours and hours listening to this music by myself, playing bass gigs so I could buy another Mahler CD. I think a lot of teenagers have their own personal “sad” music. For my friends it was The Cure or New Order or Depeche Mode; for me it was Mahler. It’s tragic, cathartic, full of yearning. Even when it’s joyful there’s always a tremendous cost. The hugeness of the music reflected the feelings I had inside of me. The questions it asked were questions I was asking myself, too shy to ask others. From a young age, I always took metaphysical questions very seriously. I thought about death and what it all meant. Mahler became my constant companion on this journey,
I opened up my high school yearbook last week and there it was, an “I <heart> Mahler” bumpersticker. I put it up over my seat in student government for everyone to see. I wanted more people to <heart> Mahler too. But more importantly, it was a mark of my individuality, what set me apart. Mahler’s sadness was my sadness. It was my mark of rebellion. Mahler was my purple mohawk.