Rythm and ritual

Hillborg’s Hell Mountain

The name Höllengebirge – “Hell Mountain” – did not deter Gustav Mahler from spending his summers there in the late 1890s, near the karst mountain range with its cliffs rising like dark shadows above the land. It was here that he composed several symphonies and a number of songs. 

The mountain range has also lent its name to Anders Hillborg’s tribute to the composer, Hell Mountain. Mahler has always been an important figure for Hillborg, not least for what he describes as Mahler’s “ability to evoke a sense of vast space through acoustic resonance.” In this new work, two of Mahler’s symphonies have served as central sources of inspiration: “the shattering dissonance of his Tenth Symphony and the falling fourths that open his First Symphony.” Hell Mountain received its world premiere in 2024 and was co-commissioned by the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, the Paris Philharmonie, the Oslo Philharmonic, and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. The piece is dedicated to Klaus Mäkelä and receives its Swedish premiere at this concert. 

Five Existential Songs

Like Gustav Mahler, Alma Mahler – his wife – also composed many admired songs. A selection of them will be performed this night by the Royal Court singer Malin Byström, who regularly appears on leading opera and concert stages across Europe and the United States. 

In addition to being a composer, Alma Mahler was active as a writer and artist, and her sensitivity – especially to text – permeates her compositions. At this concert you will hear five of her songs from a cycle composed in 1924. Running like a thread through the songs are existentially probing texts by the poets Novalis, Otto Julius Bierbaum, Franz Werfel, and Richard Dehmel. The songs vary in mood and tempo, drawing the listener into a sonorous, dreamlike, and at times unsettling sound world. 

Kien’s A Demon in Disguise

Song is also central to A Demon in Disguise, an orchestral and choral commission by the American-Swedish composer Molly Kien. The music is inspired by the Appalachian folk song “House Carpenter.” Those familiar with the song, perhaps best known through Bob Dylan’s recording, may recognise certain melodic turns in the orchestra. Appalachian music is characterised by a blend of European and African folk traditions, with the banjo as a unifying link. Yet, as Molly Kien, who has roots in West Virginia, points out, few people are aware of the instrument’s history: 

“The West African banjo, the akonting, came to the United States through people who were forced there as slaves. In that sense, there is a darker side to this music.” 

In A Demon in Disguise, history and the present merge in a way that, she says, reflects her own mixed feelings about the United States today: 

“A deep joy in its music, and a concern for the country’s future.” 

A Revolutionary Masterpiece?

The concert concludes with one of the most discussed works in music history: Igor Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring, which earned him a reputation as a musical revolutionary. 

The Rite of Spring was the third ballet Stravinsky composed for Sergei Diaghilev and the Ballets Russes, following the successes of The Firebird and Petrushka. At its core is a ritual sacrifice of a young woman, which in ancient Russian tradition symbolised the return of spring and the awakening of nature. In the music, Stravinsky combined Russian musical idioms with modern rhythmic impulses. 

But how revolutionary was the music, really? Although anecdotes surrounding the Paris premiere in 1913 abound in dramatic detail – audiences leaving the hall or even staying only to vomit – Stravinsky himself later suggested that the reputation was misplaced. In the late 1940s, he wrote in his book Poetics of Music: 

“A work like The Rite of Spring may appear arrogant in tone and harsh in its new language, but that does not necessarily make it revolutionary in the subversive sense of the word. If merely breaking a habit were enough to deserve the label ‘revolutionary,’ then every musician who has something to say and expresses it unconventionally would be called a revolutionary.” 

This quotation touches on a complex question concerning the relationship between music and the world. Can music say something about the world, and if so, what does it say? Take a seat in Berwaldhallen, sharpen your ears – and listen.