Many of us misconstrue the meaning of an artwork, a poem, or a song. We interpret its significance through the filter of our own experiences, our unique translation of life. The artist or author’s intentions may be completely missed, yet we still enjoy their inspirational works.
Adagietto is a piece that I’ve learned to hear differently than that of the composer’s desire. Gustav Mahler was a newly-wed man during the summer of 1902 when he finished writing his Fifth Symphony. Madly in love with his wife Alma and highly anticipating their first child, Mahler conveyed his heightened emotions of utmost happiness through the fourth movement of the symphony, Adagietto, a breathtaking love letter to his wife.
This year has been rough for me. There have been many deaths within my community and it seems that several more loved ones are nearing their end due to terminal illnesses. My heart feels excruciating sadness to see that death is inevitable and very real. Letting go and moving on are virtues I have yet to cultivate.
Rather than focusing on the love that I have for people that surround me (as Mahler likely intended), Adagietto elicits immense heartache and uncontrollable yearning for those that have passed on. Nonetheless, this piece is my confidant when melancholy seeps into my soul. The long and slow lyricism of the violins accurately depict my deep sorrow for those that I can never see again and angst that awaits for every loss of that I learn. However, there is a surprising surreal calmness offered by the gentle strumming of the harp that puts my mind at ease, which allows me to hope for the future, the day we get to meet again. Perhaps Mahler had already recognized the dichotomy of life and death – learning to cherish each breath while lamenting the loss of life.