Arvo Pärt, “Fratres,” performed by Gidon Kremer and Keith Jarrett, Tabula Rasa (ECM 1984)
Some writers have declared that Estonian composer Arvo Pärt’s work sits well with “young” listeners, those bred on indie rock and Starbucks, because it digests easily and lacks harsh dissonances (of, say, a Morton Feldman). What they are getting at, it seems, is that Pärt writes really, really powerful background music, or Muzak for the culturally aware.
I’ve seen various iterations of this theme over the years and have each time been astonished. An avid listener of Pärt since the 1980s, I have always been struck by the immense amount of concentration required by his music. Not a style of the background, it is instead one of extreme foreground—demanding a listener to stop and just be there with the music. Like prayer and meditation for some, it only “works” when one is fully present. Half measures do not make the mark.
‘Fratres’ was written in 1977 during one of Pärt’s periods of silence: “The work’s six-measure theme is repeated nine times in this version. The sequence of entrances yields the scale e-c-a-f-d-b-g-e-c sharp. In one instance this pattern of six measures is interrupted by two 6/4 percussion measures, in another instance by a two-measure piano ostinato. Within the theme, the sequence of 7/4, 9/4 and 11/4 measures corresponds to the principle of adding on—and the theme’s melodic structure is developed according to this principle. The schematic of this composition, its numerical relationships and its easily discernable syntax give the effect of a semi-transparent screen. One can easily enter into it, but in doing so the work does not begin to give itself away” (Wolfgan Sandner, liner notes to 1984 ECM release).
This performance is by violinist Gidon Kremer, to whom (with his wife Elena) the work was dedicated and by whom it was first performed in Salzburg on 17 August 1980. Accompanying Kremer is the indefatigable Keith Jarrett on the piano, whose subtle attack is on full display here.
