It's Marches Madness! Throughout this month, we're posting some of our favorite marches — from the concert hall, opera stage and parade ground. Got one we should hear? Played any yourself? Let us know in the comments section.
It's not every day a nursery rhyme gets hijacked by a funeral march and a klezmer band.
But then not everyone has the slightly warped mindset of Gustav Mahler, who somehow thought that plunking the children's round "Frère Jacques" into the funereal third movement of his very first symphony would impress the public.
The pulse of Mahler's march is set by two soft, alternating notes on the kettledrum. The melody, contorted into a minor key, is handed first to a solo double bass. A bassoon picks it up, then a tuba and a flute. Quietly building momentum, the tune is passed around the orchestra, with occasional sardonic commentary from the oboe.
Later, the melody is elbowed out of the way, as if Mahler, in a nod to his Jewish roots, ushers in a raucous klezmer band to sashay through the orchestra. And, for good measure, he inserts a quote from a morose song, "The Two Blue Eyes of My Darling."
It's all ingeniously creepy, but Mahler's early audiences were baffled. Crafting a funeral march out of a children's song was simply distasteful. Like serving champagne with donuts.
Today, Mahler's Symphony No. 1 ranks as one of the most game-changing (and mind-blowing) first symphonies by any composer — thanks largely to one twisted little funeral march.