There’s an adage that composers, as they age, write music of accelerating contrapuntal complexity.
The phenomenon might be heard within the music of Mahler and John Adams, however Estonian minimalist Arvo Pärt (b. 1935) adopted a decidedly completely different path.
In his youth, Pärt embraced the prevailing modernism, and the 12-tone music of Arnold Schoenberg, by which the twelve notes of the chromatic scale are handled equally in order to negate the harmonic “pull” and hierarchies of tonal music. All of this chromatic complexity got here to an explosive head with the 1968 composition, Credo, scored for solo piano, blended choir, and orchestra. It’s a highly effective work which strikes from violent cacophony to the purity and order of the harmonic sequence, as expressed within the serene C Main Prelude from the opening of Bach’s Effectively-Tempered Clavier. Within the early Nineteen Seventies, Pärt withdrew right into a self-imposed compositional “silence.” When he resumed, the music was radically completely different. Meditative and rooted in Gregorian chant and different early sacred music, it celebrated the sanctity of a single pitch, or triad. “The advanced and many-faceted solely confuses me, and I need to seek for unity,” Pärt defined.
Listening to Symphony No. 1, Op. 9, “Polyphonic,” we have now an opportunity to reexamine the often-neglected early music of Arvo Pärt. Composed in 1963 shortly after the composer’s commencement from Tallinn Conservatory, and devoted to his composition professor, Heino Eller, the Symphony is an exuberant and playful exploration of counterpoint. Its subtitle refers to polyphony, the simultaneous mixture of a number of melodic traces.
The Symphony is ready in two actions. The primary motion (Canons) begins with a harsh brass tone cluster which is repeated over a brash rhythmic motif. It’s answered by timpani drum beats. Because the music continues, it’s propelled ahead briefly by a hi-hat which appears to have wandered in from a jazz chart. The canons of the title erupt as spirited, irrepressible contrapuntal traces which often appear in peril of spinning uncontrolled. Taking a shadowy and ominous flip, the motion’s remaining bars dissolve right into a single pizzicato line within the low strings, which fades away.
The second motion (Prelude and Fugue) begins with a looking out violin solo, accompanied by suspended cymbal. The woodwinds reply with chirpy statements evocative of birdcalls. The motion is launched into movement with a strolling bass line, performed by the low strings. The climax comes with a fugue confined strictly to rhythm. It begins with a tattoo drum beat, performed on a single “C” by the violas. Step by step, the opposite devices take part, creating layers of tension-filled tone clusters. Constructing in an exhilarating, heart-pounding crescendo, it’s the final rock and roll.
Neeme Järvi led the Estonian Radio Symphony Orchestra within the premiere on February 7, 1964. This recording options his son with the identical ensemble:
I. Canons:
II. Prelude and Fugue:
Recordings
- Pärt: Symphony No. 1, Op. 9, “Polyphonic” Paavo Järvi, Estonian Nationwide Symphony Orchestra Amazon
