This is an attempt to re-create the first post I ever made to Botendaddy. I foolishly erased it.
Botendaddy hates Mahler.
He finds Mahler jejeune and derivative.
He finds anyone who claims to like Mahler to be pretentious, wannabe New York Litterati and utterly without taste in music.
Mahler’s 4th is excruciatingly boring.
If Mahler’s 4th was played to detainees, it would be considered a crime against humanity.
When I listen to his ridiculous “Das Himmlische Leben”, I feel like Alexander DeLarge in “A Clockwork Orange” TM(r)(c).
“Leben” is insipid, pretentious bile.
It is an insult to both his faux-conversion new religion and to his old one.
His wife, Alma Mahler was a talentless wannabe – “Brucke” overrated boob. Contrast Paula Modersohn-Becker.
She cannot even be mentioned with Cezanne and Nolde without driving me to near-insanity.
Flashback – May 30th 2008 San Antonio Symphony Orchestra
I was treated to a performance of Gustav Mahler’s 4th and Bartok’s Magnificent Mandarin at the San Antonio Symphony Orchestra just before I departed for Iraq in 2008.
Allow me to say first that it was wonderfully conducted and perfectly executed by the Conductor and the Orchestra. It isn’t their fault that they had to play Mahler.
I was in the front row center.
Only the most pretentious, faux-upper class sycophants claim to like Mahler. His music is atrocious.
He is like the student who always got the ‘A’ answer, but had little imagination and no spirit.
His work is mechanical, boring at best, tortuously hideous at worst.
His ‘Symphony 4 in G Major’, a false kudo to his crassly adopted new religion, is mind-numbingly uninteresting.
The insipid, tortuous, cringe-worthy chorale “Das Himmlische Leben” (a poorly attempted homage to Beethoven’s fantastic ‘Chorale’), is ridiculous, nonsensical and amusical at best, a crime against music at worst.
Mahler is like the guy who got the good job because he fit the perfect profile. He was never the best guy for the job, even worse because he was set forth as an example of what the best guy should be.
Mahler’s works are boring, they are tripe, compositional bowel movement, they have no consistent theme, it’s all ‘ooh look at me I’m so smart I can write anything I want!’ Yeah, so can Yoko, doesn’t mean I think it doesn’t stink.
I felt like Alexander DeLarge from ‘A Clockwork Orange’ with my eyes held open, unable to groan or turn aside because I was in the front row.
The Symphony then moved over to Bartok’s Mandarin.
What in the hell was this supposed to be?
A cacophony of string bases being plucked in bizarre unison and percussion that sounded like cats being tortured in a pile of pots and pans.
It was atonal and difficult to follow. I suppose if it had been background music for some weird play it might have made sense. But it didn’t.
Ooh look at me! I’m so smart! I went to a good school and you didn’t! I’m so much more sophisticated than you! Oooh I like Mahler!
NO YOU DON’T! NO-ONE COULD LIKE THIS MUSICAL BILGE! MAHLER STINKS!
If you say you enjoy listening to Mahler, you are a bald-faced liar.