Have you ever heard of ‘Schrödinger’s Fermata’?

First of all, can we call it “Schrödinger’s Fermata”?

At the end of Mahler’s 9th Symphony, the music doesn’t really end. It suspends itself.
Gustav Mahler marks the final tempo as Adagissimo — slower than time itself seems willing to move.

The word “ersterbend” appears again and again: dying away, fading into nothing.
The first violins hold an impossibly high D♭, marked pppp, softer than what the ear can fully grasp.

And then — nothing.
A fermata over silence.

Not over a note, but over emptiness.
In legendary interpretations, like those by Claudio Abbado, this silence can last 30 to 40 seconds. The conductor keeps his hands raised. No one breathes. No one dares to clap.
When we don’t know how to name it, we should find a name to name it.

Can we call it Schrödinger’s Fermata?
Like Schrödinger’s cat, the music is alive and dead at the same time.

It hasn’t ended — yet it doesn’t continue either.
Is the sound still there? Is this the end… or the afterlife of it? The answer depends on when you choose to release the silence!

#classicalmusicdaily