By Francesc Borrull · February 23, 2024

Al meu amic Llorenç Soldevila (1950-2022)

I’ve always been intrigued by the diverse opinions people hold about music – or should I say, what some people think about music. In a world filled with varied tastes, it’s crucial not to accept just any opinion as gospel. Take those Monday morning discussions at the bar, where coworkers enthusiastically dissect the movies they watched over the weekend. Among the critiques, there’s always that person who concludes with an emphatic “it’s a masterpiece!” Inspired by such declarations, one might find themselves at the cinema, only to experience the inevitable letdown that comes from blindly following the whims of a self-proclaimed expert. This phenomenon has happened to me with movies, and, regrettably, quite frequently with music.

Let me candidly admit that I am unapologetically obsessed with music. My love for it goes beyond casual listening; I immerse myself in data, peruse endless lists, collect records, and attend concerts. I even engage in the digital realm through blogs and forums, alongside my more tangible pursuits like buying instruments and sheet music, despite my pretense at playing them. Madness, some might say! And don’t even get me started on the amount of money I’ve poured into my musical passions. So, when someone asserts that the latest Dylan album is a masterpiece, I take their word for it and promptly make the purchase. Similarly, if someone claims that B.B. King’s “Paying the Boss to Be the Boss” is the ultimate blues song, I enthusiastically acquire the album, finding joy in lounging on my couch, absorbing the resonant blues emanating from King’s Lucille. Yet, as time unfolds, whether through solitary contemplation or discussions with others, I often come to the realization that the proclaimed masterpiece might not hold up to such lofty standards.

It was during my final year of high school, at the esteemed Alexandre Satorras, that my Spanish literature teacher, a woman seemingly devoid of fanaticism, ventured into the realm of music. The catalyst? The English teacher next door, who, using innovative teaching methods, dared to play The Police’s “Every Breath You Take” during her English class. This perceived affront ignited a passionate response from my literature teacher, who deemed it unacceptable for anyone to intrude upon her sanctuary. To further accentuate her point, she pondered what her colleagues might think if she were to bring her preferred music to school—classics like Beethoven’s 7th Symphony or, better yet, Mahler’s Fifth.

Though donkey brays might not reach the heavens, her comment lingered in my mind. At that moment, Gustav Mahler was a mystery to me – his name unfamiliar, his music unknown. My classical music repertoire at the time only comprised Beethoven, Mozart, and Dvorak. Subsequently, I stumbled upon Orff’s “Carmina Burana” and J.S. Bach’s “Brandenburg Concertos.” Yet, the enigmatic aura surrounding Mahler piqued my curiosity.

In a serendipitous turn of events, my friend Llorenç, that very week, confided in me that he wished for Mahler’s Fifth Symphony to play at his funeral. Trusting Llorenç’s judgment, I hurriedly made my way to Robafaves after school, fixated solely on Mahler’s Fifth. Navigating the classical music section, I scanned for Mahler – Fifth, fifth, fifth… There it was! Perhaps the recording I stumbled upon was the most pitiable (in a bad way) rendition of Mahler’s Fifth available, but it only cost me $3.00 and gave me many hours of pleasure. More importantly, it cultivated a deep appreciation for Mahler’s work. Even now, almost two decades later, I listen to Mahler’s Fifth with a discerning ear, a heart filled with affection, and the critical spirit that Mahler’s compositions demand. Among his other symphonies, including the Resurrection and the Symphony of a Thousand, Mahler’s Fifth Symphony stands as my favorite – not just among his works but as a pinnacle in the symphonic repertoire.

Trust me when I say: Mahler’s Fifth Symphony is a masterpiece, and this assertion is far from resembling donkey brays.

© Francesc Borrull, 2007-2024

P.S. If you’re looking to embark on your own journey into Mahler’s Fifth Symphony, I highly recommend exploring these three exceptional recordings:

1. Sir John Barbirolli, New Philharmonia Orchestra – EMI, 1970. This is the version I listened to while writing this piece in 2007 and revisited in 2024. Listen here.
2. Leonard Bernstein, Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra – DG, 1988. Listen here.
3. Claudio Abbado Berliner Philharmoniker – DG, 1993. Listen here.

These renditions capture the essence of Mahler’s masterpiece, each offering a unique perspective on the symphony’s beauty and depth. Happy listening!

Note: This piece was originally penned in Catalan back in 2007. The version you just read is my translation, with a slight adjustment in style, created for the purpose of sharing it on this blog.