Weekend Concert 37: Das Lied von der Erde -- A One-Night Stand Between Eastern and Western Souls
2007/6/3 11:42:41
In the exchange between Chinese and Western cultures, Mahler's 'Das Lied von der Erde' (Song of the Earth) holds a very special position. Of course, one could grandly narrate that Western classical music and Eastern classical poetry are the finest essences of their respective cultures, and their combination produced Mahler's 'Das Lied von der Erde.' But this ID doesn't much like this way of putting it. By this logic, Mahler's 'Das Lied von der Erde' is nothing more than the product of a one-night stand, because such a work is extremely rare in both Eastern and Western artistic literature, and absolutely unique among Mahler's own works -- like the burning of a single one-night stand, nothing more.
A one-night stand can happen only because its basis is never any grand narrative. The ignition of a one-night stand is always personal and fragmentary. Mahler, as an individual, was always complex. Chinese classical poetry ignited his passion, but one absolutely cannot say that at the end of his life Mahler was in complete spiritual communion with Chinese classical poetry. Mahler, a homeless wandering spirit, merely indulged in one passionate one-night stand during his life's wandering, nothing more.
All one-night stands are equal. Mahler let Western classical music have a one-night stand with Eastern classical poetry, but that doesn't mean Western classical music is superior to Eastern classical poetry. Eastern classical poetry could equally well have a one-night stand with Western classical music. The key question is whether the person having this one-night stand can be as Mahlerian as Mahler.
Now, let's first look at the original Tang poems selected for the six movements of Mahler's work. Note: whether these are indeed all the originals is still debated in some cases, but that's a minor issue. The major point is that none of the poetry here is of the so-called realist school of Du Fu and the like. It's Li Bai, then the Wang-Meng poetic school (to which Qian Qi belongs). From this it's not hard to understand that the things truly of the soul, the things most easily shared across cultures, most easily ignited in one-night-stand fashion, can never be too realistic.
Compared to the suffering of reality, the suffering of the soul is humanity's true affliction -- this is something shared across East and West. Open your soul and listen to Mahler's suffering, the tumultuous suffering of the human soul.
Original Tang Poems in Mahler's 'Das Lied von der Erde'
First Movement: The Drinking Song of Earth's Sorrow
Li Bai, "Song of Sorrow"
Sorrow comes, oh sorrow comes.
Host, hold the wine, pour no more — hear my song of sorrow's lore.
In sorrow, neither singing nor smiling — no one in this world knows my heart.
You have measures of wine, I have a three-foot qin.
When qin sings and wine delights, both in harmony — one cup is worth a thousand catties of gold.
Sorrow comes, oh sorrow comes.
Though heaven endures and earth persists, a hall full of gold and jade cannot be kept.
A hundred years of wealth — what does it amount to? Birth and death come once, and all must face them.
A lone ape sits weeping beneath the moon on a grave — for now, just drain the cup.
Sorrow comes, oh sorrow comes.
The phoenix comes not, the river yields no chart; Weizi departed and Jizi was enslaved.
The Han Emperor forgot General Li; the King of Chu banished Minister Qu.
Sorrow comes, oh sorrow comes.
The Qin's Li Si came too late to regret; he cast vain fame beyond his mortal form.
Did Fan Li ever truly love the Five Lakes? Once fame and merit were won, he withdrew on his own.
A sword is but for one man's use; books can make one's name known.
Huizi would not serve a state of ten thousand chariots; Bu Shi need not have exhausted a single classic.
While your hair is still black, seize the title of regional lord — do not idly waste youth as a mere scholar.
Second Movement: The Lonely One in Autumn
Qian Qi, "In the Manner of the Ancients: Long Autumn Night"
Autumn's Milky Way scatters jade frost; the north wind sweeps away the lotus fragrance.
With tender feelings she weaves by a lone lamp till it gutters; wiping tears of longing through the cold dripping hours.
Before the eaves, azure clouds are still as water; the moon mourns the roosting crows as songbirds stir.
Whose young wife works at the mandarin-duck loom, behind brocade curtains and cloud screens, doors tightly shut?
Through the white jade window one hears the falling leaves — pity the cold woman, alone without a coat.
Third Movement: Of Youth
Li Bai, "Banquet at the Tao Family Pavilion"
In winding lanes, a recluse's dwelling; at lofty gates, a great man's home.
The pond opens like a mirror reflecting the soul; the grove puts forth blossoms that break into smiles.
Green waters hide the spring sun; the verdant pavilion conceals the evening glow.
If one hears the wondrous strings and pipes here, even Jingu Garden could not boast.
Fourth Movement: Of Beauty
Li Bai, "Lotus-Gathering Song"
By the Ruoye Stream, lotus-gathering girls laugh through the lotus blooms, chatting with one another.
Sunlight on fresh makeup gleams from the water's depths; the breeze lifts fragrant sleeves into the air.
On the bank, whose pleasure-seeking young men, in threes and fives, are mirrored by the weeping willows?
A purple stallion neighs and plunges into falling petals — beholding this, one lingers, heartbroken in vain.
Fifth Movement: The Drunkard in Spring
Li Bai, "Awakening Drunk on a Spring Day, Speaking My Mind"
Living in this world is like a great dream — why toil away one's life?
So I stay drunk all day, sprawled before the front pillar.
Awaking, I gaze at the courtyard — a bird sings among the blossoms.
Pray tell, what season is this? The spring breeze speaks to the orioles.
Moved, I want to sigh, but facing wine I pour again for myself.
Singing grandly, I await the bright moon; when the song ends, all feeling is forgotten.
Sixth Movement: The Farewell
Meng Haoran, "Lodging at Master Ye's Mountain Chamber, Waiting in Vain for Ding Da"
The setting sun crosses the western ridge; all the valleys suddenly grow dark.
Moonlight through pines brings the coolness of night; wind and springs fill the air with clear sound.
The woodcutters have nearly all returned; the hazy birds are just settling to roost.
That friend promised to come stay the night — a lone qin waits along the vine-draped path.
Wang Wei, "Farewell"
I dismount to offer you wine and ask: where are you bound?
You say, "Disappointed with the world, I'll retire to the Southern Hills."
Just go — ask no more. White clouds drift on, without end.
Replies
Chán Zhōng Shuō Chán 2007/6/3 11:53:39
One more thing: a moment of silence for a certain elder who made enormous contributions to the great development of the securities market. Without him, the share reform might have been stillborn. His contributions to the market over these two years, though not known to ordinary people, will be remembered by history.
Reciting the Rebirth Dharani for him. Amitabha.
Namo Amitabhaya, Tathagataya, Tadyatha, Amritod-bhave, Amrita-sid-dhambhave, Amrita-vikrante, Amrita-vikranta-gamine, Gagana-kirti-kare, Svaha.
Chán Zhōng Shuō Chán 2007/6/3 11:47:43
Happy Sunday everyone. Beijing is still cloudy today, but sunlight is already breaking through.
Heading out, see you tomorrow morning.