On Wednesday, February 22 the Northern Lights Festival de Febrero will feature the music of Vivaldi and the beloved Estonian composer Arvo Part (born 1935),
performed by violinists Jeremy Bell and Alexandria Preucil, backed up by members of the Festival orchestra in a concert titled “Baroque and Beyond” at Haus Der Music in Ajijic.
Before I heard of Arvo Part, I only knew of his country because the family of a childhood friend of mine fled the Russians there in 1945 in horse-drawn covered wagons, hiding from the soldiers on the road as best they could before making their way to the United States. The Russians occupied Estonia from 1940 to 1991 (except for the Nazis for three years), causing problems for Arvo when he started experimenting with atonality, and worse when he later began writing religious music. In 1976 he achieved a creative breakthrough, later reflecting: “... before my new music was born, I felt I had to smash through some wall or mountain, that the music would be on the other side of the wall.”
And that’s the feeling I have with his music. After serialism and minimalism and all the other interesting isms of the 20th Century, we break through and are free, in a beautiful, new world.
If you go to either of the two concerts (4 and 7:30 p.m.) that day you’ll hear three pieces, all written in the late seventies. First up is “Fratres” (“Brothers”), beginning with dazzling and kind of violent violin flashing. If you have brothers you know they’re not always nice; when I first heard this I thought of my own. Then after beautiful and gnarled explorations only love remains.
Then comes “Spiegel im Spiegel” (“Mirror in a Mirror”). Pure beauty and peace. Like some of Schubert’s music.
Next, “Tabula Rasa” (“Blank Slate”) in two parts; first, “Ludus” (“Game”), which alternates between lively electric gestures and ancient chant feelings until it seems to finally crash darkly. Then “Silencio”. How can you name something “Silence” if it’s made of sounds? Is it a mental portrait of silence? If you live in a noisy world or have tinnitus like I do, you can only imagine how it might be … delicious. “Silencio” begins with a beautiful and mysterious rising broken chord then wafts with chantlike melodies floating up or sinking down. The same chord rises over and over again during the wafting and you never know just when it’s going to sound. The music gradually descends and quietens until you can’t hear it anymore. It never ends. Eventually you just can’t hear it. It’s like the taste of a delicious berry. It lasts as long as it’s going to last and then you can’t taste it any more. You can’t make it last longer…
Two days later in the same venue, the Manhattan Chamber Players and special guest Gryphon Trio cellist Roman Borys perform the String Quintet in C written by Schubert two months before he died in 1828. I first heard of this quintet back in the winter of 1981 as the snow fell outside and we all sat around swapping stories, trying to stay warm. One friend shared that last summer at the Aspen Music Festival up in the Rockies she had gone to bed early one night and was woken up by some other students who were reading chamber music downstairs. What lifted her from slumber was “the most beautiful melody in the world.” I wondered what could this be. Next day I heard it, the second theme of the first movement of the quintet. Unmistakeable. Like the sweetest dream you ever had and you’ll never forget.
This quintet is one of classical music’s perfect compositions. Each of the four movements is dramatically beautiful and they all fit wonderfully into the whole. This European tradition of having different pieces of music all called on piece is unique. I’ve heard a lot of Indian Ragas and they all start slow and then get fast with no breaks until the end. Songs, also. Maybe that’s why people who live on a steady diet of pop music tend to call a symphony a song. But if they go to a classical concert and clap between movements they will at least get some very dirty looks, and rightfully so. “Ludus” isn’t really complete without “Silencio,” and vice versa. And all the Schubert movements go together to form one glorious entity.
Two days, two geniuses: Arvo and Franz.
Reserve tickets at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. or festivaldefebrero.com.
Dr. Charles Nath has been a part of the musical world of Guadalajara since 1988, with 26 years as principal clarinetist of the Jalisco Philharmonic as well as many chamber music presentations. He also wrote a column on music for the Informador newspaper and made numerous music appreciation presentations on radio and television.