4/2/20
This past Sunday - March 29, 2020 - the world lost one of the leading figures of contemporary music. Krzysztof Penderecki was likely the most accomplished Polish composer to date since Frédéric Chopin, and while his fame could be in large part attributed to his composition of the piece Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima, his style was widely influential and will continue to be studied in the music world for centuries to come. An article done by the New York Times following his death can be found here.
In deciding which of his pieces I wanted to select for this blog post, I seriously considered Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima, which I had the pleasure to hear live by the London Symphony Orchestra even before I had acquired a serious taste for contemporary music. The piece was also featured in my college curriculum (as I’m sure it is featured in a lot of music schools’ curricula) in a course dealing with all Western music since Wagner - not just for the aural experience of the piece, but also because of Penderecki’s unique and highly refined notation style. The piece is not long (only 8-10 minutes in length), but it is impossible to ignore its significance, either for its historical message, its painfully harsh tone throughout, its innovative score notation, or (following its premiere and fame) how it came to be such an important piece in the academic world of music. If you have not heard the piece before, there is a wonderful recording on YouTube by the Polish National Radio Symphony Orchestra which is accompanied by the score and animations to help the viewer follow the notation - that video can be found here.
This brings me to the piece that I actually selected for today’s blog post: Symphony No. 1. Completed in 1973, Penderecki’s first symphony is not necessarily one of his more famous works, but it does show the culmination of his early style in a large form, full orchestral piece. The work totals 30-35 minutes in length, and the four movements follow a sort of palindromic pattern, and are titled Archi 1, Dynamis 1, Dynamis 2, and Archi 2. In speaking about his own piece, Penderecki is quoted with saying this: “I was then attempting to make a reckoning of my two decades' worth of musical experience – a time of radical, avant-garde seeking. It was the summa of what I could say as an avant-garde artist.”
While my own style of composition has never resembled Penderecki’s, I have always found an interest in his work and applications to my own writing. Symphony No. 1 is at many times just as disconcerting to listen to as Threnody, though it is far from unintelligible, dissonant, avant-garde nonsense. This sort of music is a complete departure from the standard conception of music through the Late Romantic Era, exploring how the orchestra can sound percussive and ‘dense’ even in the absence of both melody and harmony. In my view, that is what distances a lot of listeners: while the sound of the music itself may be off-putting, I believe it to be the lack of form that we immediately perceive in tonal music that pushes people to think “well, how long is this going to carry on?” What I mean to say by this is that the music may be exotic and different from other famous symphonies, but that does not mean that the piece is absent of form, conflict, direction, and payoff. I would even venture as to say that submitting oneself to the harsh barren soundscape of this music is crucial to understanding, appreciating, and perhaps even enjoying this piece.
While Penderecki’s Symphony No. 1 is completely different from yesterday’s piece, Turangalîla-Symphonie, it is possible that it will challenge you just the same. While listening to the recording by the National Polish Radio Symphony Orchestra which is posted below, I would suggest a few things to keep in mind (besides from the fact that you may want to keep the volume down so that you are not caught off guard by loud entrances). First, I would encourage you all to consider the conception of this piece - Penderecki, like most all well-known composers, must have invested serious time and belief in how the final experience of the piece must be. Given that most all of his decisions were undoubtedly intentional, isn’t it admirable that he is able to create something so foreign from the Western canon which still conveys very profound emotions? Second, try to recognize just how dense the music is - even Mahler’s orchestral writing with expansive chords written for the entire orchestra is not quite as dense as the clusters of Penderecki’s writing. To me, it sounds just about as raw and brutal as orchestral music can get. Third (and finally), I think it is important to remember that there are truly no real expectations on anyone as a listener. Penderecki’s music may be a topic of musical institutions all over the world, but that does not mean that any educated musician is experiencing the music differently from an average listener. Your experience of the music is unique to your own life experiences and aesthetic tastes - in writing this Penderecki certainly did not expect for it to only emotionally impact ‘music scholars.’ In fact, his music may be more familiar than you expect, as Penderecki’s music had a profound influence on the world of film music. As you listen, you may even hear some of that in this piece.
I would like to respectfully dedicate this post to the memory of Krzysztof Penderecki. Thank you for the gift you’ve given the world of music, and for how you have shaped my own path as a composer.
Gee: Mouthpiece 28