Chapter 6
Relationship of Music to Text
The relationship of music to text in Pärt’s
works is similar to that in early organum or in the declamatory writing of
Ockeghem, in which all parts sing identical rhythms. Except for rare instances where short melismas are used, each
syllable is assigned only one pitch.
Also, Pärt may immediately repeat only short sections of text when appropriate,
but not single words or syllables. This
he also borrows from the Gothic period.
Hughes states, “Another principle we can infer from the overwhelming
evidence of the manuscripts: text was
never repeated. Exceptions are in a few
special genres and a few rare pieces, refrains, and where the Biblical source
justifies the repetition.”[1]
There is another medieval connection in
Pärt’s works in that the music itself fails to echo the meaning of the
words. Hughes continues, “Again, the
music does not attempt directly to illustrate or even express the words: in which it resembles medieval music and is
distinct from a Renaissance polyphonist like Byrd, even when he’s writing
liturgically.”[2]
To draw an
analogy from art: the
non-representational, symbolic art of the earlier Middle Ages cannot be
understood as a primitive predecessor of the realistic, humanistic art of the
Renaissance. Somewhere between the two
is a radical change of attitude. In
music, the composers of the Middle Ages were more likely to see the relation
between text and music as one of abstract architecture, grammatical and
syntactic structure, and perhaps even of acoustical properties rather than
directly one of meaning. Sometimes,
perhaps for the medieval mind, the significance actually lies in the formal
presentation, the sentence, rather than in the substance, the words…Seeing the
relationship between text and music as medieval people saw it enables us partly
to address the opening question: are
the texts to be understood? Yes, but
not in the same way we would expect them to be understood…If the relationship
between the text and the music is not one of measuring, then there is no reason
for one kind of music to be appropriate for one kind of text…Since words and
music were not related in any semantic or emotional way, a monophonic
dance-song, a polyphonic spring-song based on it, a song of praise, and a
lament may be indistinguishable in musical style.[3]
Pärt’s music is
much the same in that the words do not attempt to directly express any
particular idea. However, even though
the “substance” is not expressed, there is a pervading sense of suffering in
many of Pärt’s post-1976 compositions.
Strangely, he sets the Magnificat -- a text full of joyous praise
to God -- in much the same way as he does the Stabat Mater, De
Profundis and Passio domini nostri Jesu Christi secundum Joannem,
which are all texts of suffering. For a
text that begins with "My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices
in God my Savior," the music is strangely tragic. Whatever the text may
be, most of Pärt's later works contain this theme of suffering. There exists no flamboyant gesture or
element of bravado, only an introspective austerity that points to the
unparalleled directness of the voice of God.