More riveting than magnetism?

So goes the description of Herbert Glossner, as he talks of light directed through a glass prism in a physics class. The writer, a frequent contributor to booklet notes for ECM Records, is using this as a parallel for the music of Arvo Pärt, who himself has said, "I could compare my music to white light, in which all the colours are included". As Pärt reaches his 75th birthday it seems a good time to look again at a composer who to this day proves divisive.

There are some who would say the simplicity of Part's much vaunted 'tintinnabuli' style, relegated to 'holy minimalism' by lazy journalists, steers him away from the idea of any harmonic development. As Glossner points out, though, it is wrong to speak of tonality in the case of Pärt - better, perhaps to look at the triad itself that he has chosen with which to operate in a particular piece.

'Fratres' is a great example here. It is an incredibly flexible piece, a meditation just shy of ten minutes that has been arranged for all kinds of instrumental combinations, from violin and piano to string orchestra. It is definitely the original setting of twelve cellos that works the best, though, and this appears on the first ECM disc to feature the music of Pärt, which remains their most important classical music release.

In this version, 'Fratres' stays rooted to its pedal note of 'G' throughout, making the most of the cellos' open strings and casting a haunting spell as the melody repeats, the harmony bending in response to the melody. The cellists themselves gently knock their instruments at the end of each phrase, giving a natural resonance for a helpful punctuation point.

Since 'Fratres' and 'Cantus In Memoriam Benjamin Britten', the first examples of his 'tintinnabuli' style, Pärt has been incredibly popular for a modern composer, and his Third symphony, an important junction in his output, shows how he has drawn from early music to inform his harmonic and melodic thinking.

This too is clear from the St John Passion, which I saw at the Proms last week (reviewed on Classical Source), though less so in the Fourth symphony (which I reviewed over on musicOMH), given its UK premiere at the festival by the Philharmonia and Esa-Pekka Salonen.

It made me wonder if the adulation he receives in the West these days means he spends less time in his home country of Estonia, and if his music and its effects are now more Hollywood than Tallinn. In the two concerts I have wondered at the St John Passion and its subtle repetition and meditation, spun over an hour and ten minutes, then have scratched my head rather more at the structure and apparent lack of climax in the Fourth Symphony. This work, subtitled Los Angeles, shows just how far from home Pärt is now operating, and though its style is unmistakeably his, it feels much more preplanned than a piece such as 'Cantus' or 'Fratres'.

It will be interesting to see if Pärt continues to respond to overseas commissions in this way. When he's at his best his music truly is captivating and entrancing, but it seems that as with so many contemporary composers the early works are the best – or, for now, the best understood. Time will tell, but I will continue to head to his music of the 1970s and 1980s for an assurance of originality and truly wonderful other-worldliness.