Dear Friends,
I’m so happy to offer you
Moritat von Mackie Messer (Mack the Knife)
from Die Dreigroschenoper (The Threepenny Opera)
Text: Bertolt Brecht (1898 — 1956); Music: Kurt Weill (1900 — 1950)
Performed by Ishmael Wallace, tenor and pianist
And the shark, he has teeth, and displays them in his jaws, and Macheath has a knife, but the knife, one does not see.
On a lovely fine Sunday lies a dead man on the Strand, and ‘round the corner goes a man who is known as Mack the Knife.
And Shmuel Meier still is missing, and many another rich man, and Mack the Knife has his money, but nothing can be proved.
Jenny Towler was found with a knife in her breast, and on the quay walks Mack the Knife, who knows nothing at all about it.
And the big fire in Soho, seven children and a graybeard, in the throng Mack the Knife, who is not questioned and knows nothing.
And the middle-aged widow, whose name we all know, woke up and was raped — Mack, what did you charge her?
(translation by IW — please scroll down for the original)
Movies which complement the song:
The Testament of Doctor Mabuse
Life has a brutal and tragic aspect. In eating breakfast, for example, I feed my life on the lives of others, animal, vegetable and mineral; in building a house, I disrupt the lives of snakes, ants, and a myriad of others. Bertolt Brecht had an eye for this brutality, and in his work it is a major theme.
“The plate from which you eat your bread, look not too long upon it…”
(Die Dreigroschenoper, “Das Liebeslied”)
To become aware of this brutality is very dangerous. We tend not to be able to bear it, and to respond in one of two ways, both disastrous: by losing our will to live, or by losing our will to live morally. In the first case, we emulate those holy men of the Jains who allow leeches to suck their blood; in the other, we declare that, in the cause of self-preservation, no means are beyond the pale.
Normally, we have a double standard: the brutality of an enemy, we condemn, thinking “he is like a wild beast”; our own, we excuse, thinking “I don’t like it, but this is human life; we are a wretched lot”.
My own response has been informed by an image in Qabalah: at one side of the Temple gate is the pillar of Severity; on the other, the pillar of Mercy. Severity and Mercy, brutality and kindness, are both aspects of the Good. Neither one is ultimate; neither one can be my sole guide. Like staccato and legato, each has its place within the phrase.
I have decided to live, and understand that, in living, I will cause pain to others, but understand as well that this life is subject to the moral law.
Thank you so much.
With every good wish,
Ishmael
Original German text:
Und der Haifisch, der hat Zähne
Und die trägt er im Gesicht
Und Macheath, der hat ein Messer
Doch das Messer sieht man nicht.
An ’nem schönen blauen Sonntag
Liegt ein toter Mann am Strand
Und ein Mensch geht um die Ecke
Den man Mackie Messer nennt.
Und Schmul Meier bleibt verschwunden
Und so mancher reiche Mann
Und sein Geld hat Mackie Messer
Dem man nichts beweisen kann.
Jenny Towler ward gefunden
Mit ’nem Messer in der Brust
Und am Kai geht Mackie Messer
Der von allem nichts gewußt.
Und das große Feuer in Soho
Sieben Kinder und ein Greis
In der Menge Mackie Messer, den
Man nichts fragt, und der nichts weiß.
Und die minderjähr’ge Witwe
Deren Namen jeder weiß
Wachte auf und war geschändet
Mackie welches war dein Preis?
The High Priestess, from the Rider-Waite Tarot deck, shows the place of Wisdom: in between the two pillars. Designed by Arthur Edward Waite (1857 — 1942), and drawn by Pamela Colman Smith (1878 — 1951).
You sound wonderful in this repertoire. You bring out the extreme irony of the brutal lyrics set to what could almost be a sentimental parlor song.
I remember first listening to this as a child on my mother's LP of the Joseph Papp production. My brother said, "That's the most disturbing thing I've ever heard." Weill's orchestration, with banjo and saxophone, gives it a really tawdry feeling, like being in a louche nightclub at closing time.