If the recent snow-falls have re-awakened thoughts of Christmas, they also make Arvo Pärt more or less perfect as this week’s composer. Brahms may have looked more like Santa, but Pärt could have been his little brother, with his long beard, and bright eyes that look out as if they’ve seen everything the world has to offer. And they probably have. The only major visible difference between the Estonian composer and the patron saint of children is that his beard is black, as opposed to Santa’s fashionable snowy chin-tresses.
Pärt was born in Paide shortly before the end of the Second World War, and grew up under communist rule. Originally, he made his name as a serialist composer, but since his youth, and his instruction under Heino Eller at the Tallinn Conservatoire he has changed his style twice. Nowadays, you would be hard pressed to know that the same composer wrote his early works as writes his more modern pieces.
Having had a share of difficulty under the Soviet regime due to his devoutly religious point of view - he was in trouble with the Government more than once - he stuck to his (pacifist) guns and refused to alter his style. Personally, I’m eternally grateful. Pärt is one of my favourite composers, and I have a lot of composers I'm capable of liking! After the monstrous sounds of his middle period he developed an astonishingly tender style called he calls 'tintinnabuli'. Modelled on the sound of bells, this style treats each note as a single unit, like a professional campanologist and structures the notes in the music as if they are bells ringing. (Tintinnabulation is the term for the sound of bells and a campanologist is a bell-ringer - remember that and you’re a shoe-in for table quizzes.)
Probably the best-known example of this style is his 'Cantus In Memoriam Benjamin Britten', which he wrote after the death of the English composer. He said at the time that Britten’s music had had a profound effect on him, and when the older man died he realised (quite astutely) that he would never fulfil his dream of meeting him. So, with a string section and a tubular bell, he wrote a piece in the key of a minor which, to oversimplify, consists of lots of descending scales that go faster in the higher instruments and slower in the lower (mensuration canon). Apparently, Britten’s partner Peter Pears wept openly at the first performance. I’m not surprised; it is a gorgeous piece.
Pärt has also written a huge amount of music for voices, and his 'Berlinermesse' (Berlin Mass) is absolutely beautiful. But even though the music of his third period is the stuff that has become best known, his second period, when he had a passion for reconciling baroque techniques with modern sounds, is well worth a listen as well - two of my favourites from this time are 'Wenn Bach Bienen Hatten' (literally, 'if Bach kept bees'!) and 'Collage Sur Bach'. If you’re not averse to a little aggression in your life then have a listen to his second symphony, from his early period.
Pärt’s piety shows through in his compositions – his specifically religious music has a distinct element of joy about it as well as humility in the light of his faith, and even his instrumental and secular pieces have an air of genuflection about them. He also has a sense of humour about how he is perceived however, this is the man who said, "I’m not a monk, or a saint, I’m not even a vegetarian!" If you’re lucky enough to get caught up in a conversation about him, drop the names of 'Tabula Rasa' 'Festina Lente', 'Summa', and 'Fratres' (his best known pieces after 'Cantus in Memoriam Benjamin Britten') and Paul Hillier and Neeme Jarvi, two conductors associated with his music.
Recommended Recordings: Tasmin Little and Martin Roscoe with the Bournemouth Sinfonietta under Richard Studt, who also plays violin (EMI catalogue number 7243 57311724). It is one of the 'Classics for Pleasure' series and the title is 'Tasmin Little, Fratres, Arvo Part'.
Lorcan MacMuiris
