Symphony No. 3 in D Minor

Only Gustav Mahler could have followed one colossal choral-orchestral symphony with another. But there is no question of him repeating himself here. The Second Symphony tells an intensely personal, urgently driven story, progressing from a stark vision of death to a huge choral affirmation of resurrected life. The Third (1893-96) is more like a succession of giant tableaux, beginning with one of the longest and strangest symphonic movements ever composed. Elemental nature—the awe-inspiring heights and open spaces of Mahler’s beloved Alps—eventually yields to a raucous, densely textured processional (Mahler called it “Spring Marches In”). Then come four shorter movements. A sweetly floral dance movement leads to a perky but often surprisingly delicate “Scherzo”, haunted by calls from a distant post-horn, then a rapt Nietzsche setting, for alto and reduced orchestra, hymns at night and life’s essential mystery, then children’s voices tell the story of St. Peter’s betrayal of Christ and his eventual forgiveness. Then, for the finale, a glorious “Adagio” for orchestra alone, with moments of anguish but ending in a radiant hymn. Mahler thought of giving the symphony a title and drew up elaborate explanatory programmes, but in the end he decided—probably wisely—to trust his audiences to interpret the symphony for themselves. All he would say finally was that the Third Symphony represented an “ascent” from inanimate nature to the love of God.