Two things immediately come to mind when you remember Sybill Mahlke. The clarity of their language. And their accuracy. And you remember fondly. Coming from a musical Berlin household, she chose the most difficult subject in critical art for herself: music criticism.
Writing about music is basically a contradiction in terms. Music is language where languages end, said the poet Rainer Maria Rilke.
And yet. For decades, Sybill Mahlke has masterfully captured the magic of a musical evening. She also found direct, never hurtful expression for what was missing in her ears and eyes. Georg Kreisler’s caustic chanson “The Music Critic” passed her by.
Her journalistic work began in the early 1950s, and in 1963 she wrote her first text for the Tagesspiegel. “Richard Wagner’s relevance today – Theodor W. Adorno in the Academy of Arts” was the headline. It still reads very well: “From the knowledge that works of art are not finished in themselves, but exist as fields of tension from which new layers emerge while others die off, he asked about Wagner’s topicality.”
She wrote about the great orchestras and operas, she loved recitals. In her time, the newspaper also traveled to the festival venues, regularly to Bayreuth, Salzburg, Schwetzingen and to important premieres in other cities.
With precision and fire
With her life partner, the theater critic Günter Grack, who died in 2022, he was also an editor at the Tagesspiegel feature section, she often traveled to Greece. She was, as it used to be said, classically educated, a pleasant conversation partner on questions of art, always open and refreshingly curious. Sometimes she could write seemingly crazy sentences that would have fallen victim to insensitive editors. She insisted. It wasn’t deleted. And she was right. There was music in her special formulations.
It was old school. And you have to say: very good old school, in this special mixture of modesty and self-confidence.