Wednesday, January 9, 2019

Sacred Minimalism (1): Fratres, Arvo Pärt, and "Tintinnabuli"

If this interests you, consider checking out three other blog posts on this topic:

Sacred Minimalism (2): Henryk Górecki, Symphony of Sorrowful Songs
Sacred Minimalism (3): John Tavener
Henryk Górecki, Three Pieces in Old Style



There's a pretty good chance you've heard Fratres (1977) by Arvo Pärt, because it's a hugely popular piece. There are many different versions of it, because it was written with no specific instrumentation. It has been described as a “mesmerising set of variations on a six-bar theme combining frantic activity and sublime stillness that encapsulates Pärt’s observation that ‘the instant and eternity are struggling within us.’” (Wikipedia)

Pärt considered this to be an example of a compositional style he called "Tintinnabuli" (which in Latin means "bells") described as follows by Wikipedia:
"This simple style was influenced by the composer's mystical experiences with chant music. Musically, Pärt's tintinnabular music is characterized by two types of voice, the first of which (dubbed the "tintinnabular voice") arpeggiates the tonic triad, and the second of which moves diatonically in stepwise motion. The works often have a slow and meditative tempo, and a minimalist approach to both notation and performance. Pärt's compositional approach has expanded somewhat in the years since 1970, but the overall effect remains largely the same."
Have a listen, and please share any reactions you may have in the comments section below:.



Pärt's music is considered by some be exemplify a post-1970 movement in composition called "Holy Minimalism," also known as "Mystic Minimalism," "Spiritual Minimalism," or "Sacred Minimalism." Here's how this is described in Wikipedia:
"With the growing popularity of minimalist music in the 1960s and 1970s, which often broke sharply with prevailing musical aesthetics of serialism and aleatoric music, many composers, building on the work of such minimalists as Terry Riley, Philip Glass and Steve Reich, began to work with more traditional notions of simple melody and harmony in a radically simplified framework. This transition was seen variously as an aspect of musical post-modernism or as neo-romanticism, that is a return to the lyricism of the nineteenth century.

"In the 1970s and continuing in the 1980s and 1990s, several composers, many of whom had previously worked in serial or experimental milieux, began working with similar aesthetic ideals[3] – radically simplified compositional materials, a strong foundation in tonality or modality, and the use of simple, repetitive melodies – but included with them an explicitly religious orientation. Many of these composers looked to Renaissance or medieval music for inspiration, or to the liturgical music of the Orthodox Churches, some of which employ only a cappella in their services. Examples include Arvo Pärt (an Estonian Orthodox), John Tavener (a British composer who converted to Greek Orthodoxy), Henryk Górecki (a Polish Catholic), Alan Hovhaness (the earliest mystic minimalist), Sofia GubaidulinaGiya KancheliHans OttePēteris Vasks and Vladimír Godár.

"Despite being grouped together, the composers tend to dislike the term, and are by no means a "school" of close-knit associates. Their widely differing nationalities, religious backgrounds, and compositional inspirations make the term problematic, but it is nonetheless in widespread use, sometimes critically, among musicologists and music critics, primarily because of the lack of a better term."
Check out some of these composers' music, and share any suggestions you may have for pieces to listen to in the comments section below!

In the mean-time, here's another beautiful work by Pärt: Spiegel im Spiegel (1978). Here's the Wikipedia write-up for this piece:
"Spiegel im Spiegel in German literally can mean both  "mirror in the mirror" as well as "mirrors in the mirror", referring to an infinity mirror, which produces an infinity of images reflected by parallel plane mirrors: the tonic triads are endlessly repeated with small variations as if reflected back and forth. The structure of melody is made by couple of phrases characterized by the alternation between ascending and descending movement with the fulcrum on the note A. This, with also the overturning of the final intervals between adjacent phrases (for example, ascending sixth in the question - descending sixth in the answer), contribute to give the impression of a figure reflecting on a mirror and walking back and towards it."

9 comments:

Pallas said...

I think that Tintinnabuli is so incredibly interesting, and the way in which Part uses it to create contrasting works is fascinating. I found a link to someone on the internet explaining the tintinnabuli pattern in Fratres: http://www.linusakesson.net/music/fratres/index.php - it was a bit confusing, I am not quite sure how the middle voices move. But it was very cool to see how the melody and bass line are just retrogrades of each other. The pitches fratres goes through are essentially a D harmonic minor starting on C sharp, while the inner voices play a note from the A major triad. It has a very obvious tonal foundation, but it also has a certain ambiguity. I'm not familiar with many examples of mystic minimalism or tintinnabuli, but I really like Part's Tabula Rasa. It's so cool how both movements stem from the same concept/idea of tintinnabuli, but the first movement grows until it is so aggressive that it almost unrecognizable, but the second movement is very calm and serene in comparison. Apparently Alfred Schnittke played the prepared piano during the premeire of Tabula Rasa in 1977, which I think is a cool connection. I would be curious to know if there are any other composers who used tintinnabuli, because as a basis for the harmonic language of the piece it seems to be both malleable and meaningful.

Unknown said...
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Patrick d'Eon said...

I had never heard of the Fratres piece before, and I must say I really enjoyed listening to it. It actually felt relaxing but at the same time engaging, if that makes any sense. Being able to listen to the layers of strings with such beautiful voice leading really added to the listening experience. After reading about "tintinnabuli" and listening to the piece once again, I understood what it meant finally because I had never heard of the term before. When I first listened to the piece, it reminded me of the score by Ryuichi Sakamoto for the 2015 movie 'The Revenant'. Although the music for that movie sounds much darker, it still gave me the feeling like it was from the film; just the way Pärt uses the tintinnabuli effect in his piece is what lead to my thinking of the movie. I tried to see if there was any inspiration from the piece for the score, but there was nothing. I still feel like there may be some connection.

I learned a lot about minimalistic music last semester and learned about some composers who were considered "minimalists" such as Pärt & György Ligeti. But I never knew that there was different kinds of minimalism that some of those composers were using. I personally love minimalist music just because it shows how much you can do with so little. So I will definitely be looking more into those types of minimalism that are mentioned here in this post.

Kurtis R. said...

I first learned about Arvo Part last semester and became really interested in him and his music. There is new music that I like and new music that I dislike but Part stood out to me immediately. I love Fratres and I think Spiegel im spiegel is a beautiful piece, written in a time when minimalism was becoming increasingly popular and a return to tonality was the new thing. Perhaps in an attempt to go in the opposite direction of composers such as Boulez and Webern and others who wrote rather serialistic and pointalistically. Part writes with such emotion and I think the genre name of "sacred minimalism" is a perfectly accurate one. I was reading a New York Times article on Part and his faith, and understanding his devotion makes his music that more clear. You can hear the intensity in it, and it has deep, spiritual meanings. I think the term describes Part perfectly. The sacredness of his music is very overt, especially considering Part's openness to speak of his faith. Combining this with minimalism, with simple phrases and more tonal harmonies, makes Part's music moving. It's something that you listen to differently compared to many other composers of the 20th century. I don't listen as analytically as I would with someone like Webern, but with Part, it's much more calming. You listen more with your heart and less with your mind.

Luke Blackmore said...

This style is so interesting to me, and I think what is interesting about the genre is when we analyze sacred songs from the medieval and renaissance eras through the context of 20th and 21st century musical style. Perotin and his contemporaries wrote music without thinking of harmony, rather he took melodies and augmented their length and laid them, untouched, on top of one another. The resulting sound could be mistaken for a 20th century work in my opinion.

I also have some suggestions for more composers to add the list of sacred minimalists:

Christos Hatzis - Viderunt Omnes (can't find a recording for this one)

Nico Muhly - Bright Mass with Canons
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fSLN4ixx02k&ab_channel=Xandertrax

Jessica Ozon said...

I'm a big fan of Arvo Part. I really enjoy sacred music and I appreciate that Part was able to create music so unique and beautiful in a genre that has already been so widely explored. I think the incorporation of spirituality into the creation of music is very interesting and I think this style of sacred minimalism presents some different ways of thinking about how we approach music. In my own life, my faith has become increasingly important to me the older I've gotten. One thing I've noticed as result of this (among other things, that is) is that I no longer wish to be "entertained" when attending church services and the like, rather I value the silence and the more peaceful music that can come in these environments. I think this is because my perspective switched from feeling as though I was at a performance to feeling I was actually participating in the moment, regardless of whether I was the one singing/speaking or not.

I think this is where the "minimalism" in this type of sacred work comes in. Sacred music wasn't invented just so that people wouldn't get bored at church but because it has a unitive quality to it. When you sing in unison with another person, such as in Gregorian chant, you are both forced to put all of your physical and mental energy into expressing the proper words and pitches of the music. In essence, you and the other people you are with are directing all of yourselves towards the same goal, having as close to the same experience as two individual people can have. When spirituality comes into the picture, we are able to deliberately focus this energy towards our true shared "goal" (whatever you think that is). Rather than simply presenting an image or idea purely of our own making, it becomes something outside of us. In this way, I think Part's music asks us to move beyond thinking of music as a product to consume or present to others and shows how performing can create a significant experience for those participating. Sure, there may be more impressive, difficult pieces with lots going on in them but with "minimalist" music we are able to reflect on the experience of listening to and creating music and how that might affect our lives in a meaningful way.

I'm definitely going to check out the other composers listed as well, thanks for the interesting post!

Liam Kuhn said...

I am more familiar with Avro Pärt's Fratres but I think that I heard that Spiegel im Spiegel uses that same technique as suggested about (tintinnabuli). In Fratres there is that chaotic part of three sextuplets repeated in the different cycles it frantically goes through in 7/4, 9/4 and 11/4 but they don't repeat exactly because they go through stages of cycles in themselves. After this there is a cycle of three notes (the same as before but in more of a paired down version just the essentials which I can see Is typically described as minimalism. I like the side of "Holy minimalism" that I think is not pretentious like some music in the western art music world because Ideally these artists see there music is writing for god or inspired by there faith so it makes sense too that it is minimal, not as much of an ego required. Spiegel and Spiegel uses the same cycles but goes go to the intense heights as Fartres because that's not the job it's trying to express.

On the topic of Holy Minimalism being hard to label as one group. I do agree with that because, for example John Tavener uses quite different techniques to reach a divine level then Pärt. John Tavener can sound similar in his presentation but as in some of his pieces have a clear melodic line that ascends and descends afterwards but the processes to achieve these sounds are totally different. It seems Pärt is more mathematical in his Tintinnabuli method of certain note cells being repeated in a particular order at a particular time. What I am says is that it seems like the furthest thing from a unifying school of thought.

David Eguiguren said...

I’ve always found minimalist music like Part’s to be extremely interesting and just as effective as the most complex tonal/atonal harmonies. I think the reason for this is because of the element of repetition that is used extremely frequently in minimalism. Something I enjoy a lot about minimalist music is that one of the only ways a composer can increase or decrease the tension is by the use of orchestration, tempo, and dynamics, as normally the repetitive and oftentimes simple harmonic language leaves little room to express emotions.

Having said that, the limitations of the harmonic language open possibilities due to the restrictive nature of minimalism, so you might end up having a greater creative flow due to the many restrictions of the style, which I think it’s awesome!

Kaitlin White said...

Over the past couple of months, I’ve become more and more familiar with minimalist music. As it turns out, I really enjoy it and find it extremely interesting how composers do so much with listener's ears and their emotions with so little content. After listening to Fratres, I definitely felt there was a holiness vibe to it, for lack of a better word. I could clearly imagine walking into an old cathedral and hearing this reverberate through the building. I had to remind myself that there was no specific instrumentation indicated (which is very interesting) and tried to imagine what it would sound like played by different instruments or a less common combination of instruments and how it might change the effect of the piece. Or if this is the type of piece that no matter what instruments play it, the effect will stay mostly the same. I feel like it’s the latter, but I’ll check out other recordings to see if I’m right.

Like all music, in my opinion, it’s always better to hear it performed live. Minimalist music is no exception but I think this style of music adds something more to the experience, emotionally and spiritually when you are actually there with the musicians as they’re making these sounds that are almost transcending. I oftentimes feel myself drifting away mentally while listening to minimalist music depending on how long the piece in question is but never lose track of the music I’m hearing. It’s a different way of listening to music that I have not experienced with any other genre which adds to how interesting minimalism is.