9 Performing Pärt: Every Performer Is The Co-Author of The Work He Performs

9 Performing Pärt
andrew shenton
Every performer is the co-author of the work he performs.1
When Pärt devised tintinnabulation in the 1970s he created a new sound-

scape. This aural ecology does not utilize normative common practice
harmonic ideals, nor does it require of its performers a generic technique
or a normative response to notions of accentual hierarchy, phrase, or
cadence.2 Instead it invites a reevaluation of the role of the performer
and of how they interpret a highly innovative compositional style. In this
chapter I build on pioneering research by Daniel Leech-Wilkinson and
others, to shift the focus of power from composer to performer, believing,
as Leech-Wilkinson notes, that “the performer is the source of all specific
musical meaning.”3 Leech-Wilkinson acknowledges that the composi-
tional text matters very much but notes that it is “what the performer
does with it that shapes our responses, indeed that allows us to have
responses at all,” and suggests that it is “time we looked much more closely
at what performers do with scores.”4 As is now common with contempor-
ary composers, I also evaluate indispensable sources for interpreting Pärt’s
compositions, from a diverse body of other material.
In the first part of this chapter I examine issues of performance practice
for music in which the composer wishes every note to be “beautifully
played.”5 All to scrutinize Pärt’s own comments about performance, and
also comments from other performers and scholars. Since the formal
mechanisms of tintinnabulation are unique, they require a new approach
1
R. G. Collingwood, Principles of Art (Oxford: Clarendon, 1938), 321.
2
Nora Pärt has commented on this, saying, “The problem is that [performers] must succeed in
producing sound in quite a new way. The training that they receive in academies does not always
help them here.” Quoted in Enzo Restagno et al., Arvo Pärt in Conversation, trans. Robert Crowe
(London: Dalkey Archive Press, 2012), 78.
3
Daniel Leech-Wilkinson, The Changing Sound of Music: Approaches to Studying Recorded
Musical Performance (London: CHARM, 2009), “Preface,” paragraph 3, http://charm.rhul.ac.uk
/studies/chapters/intro.html.
4
Ibid.
5
Cited in Current Biography Yearbook 1995 (New York: H.W. Wilson Company, 1995), 456 and
212 elsewhere.
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Performing Pärt 213
in their aural creation. This new approach must be augmented by

a stylistically appropriate combination of additional materials.
In the second part, I recommend the types of source materials needed to
perform Pärt’s music. Using the Berliner Messe (1990) as a case study,
I offer practical suggestions about how to approach specific questions that
arise regarding issues of timbre, balance, tuning, and other musical fea-
tures. Next, I demonstrate how recordings that have received the compo-
ser’s imprimatur have served as an adjunct to the printed score and offer
what has become a stylized “manner of realization” (to use a phrase coined
by John Milsom with regard to Olivier Messiaen) that has greatly influ-
enced subsequent performances.6 I define the characteristics of a “Pärt
sound” and suggest how a performer might achieve this.
Leech-Wilkinson boldly contends that “Music doesn’t exist in works,
works don’t exist in scores, and neither does music.”7 He also contends that
“nor do scores represent composers’ wishes, nor should composers’ wishes
necessarily be observed.”8 So, finally, I raise the question of how one might
bring a personal interpretation to music that is so carefully controlled, and
I offer guidelines so that one can move from being a mere “executor” of the
notes to an “interpreter” of the music. Using theories from Theodor
Adorno, Walter Benjamin, and others, I argue that tintinnabulation itself
influences acts of both interpretation and perception.
What Pärt Does Not Say about Performance
It would be reasonable to assume that Pärt’s verbal comments form a valid

counterpoint to what he expresses within the constraints of musical nota-
tion. In fact, Pärt has said very little of use to performers. He has made
general points that may be considered to govern an authentic performance
style; however, there is not much in print, especially within the last decade.
Conversation with the composer is not possible for most people and, in due
course, it will be impossible, or mediated through other people. What Pärt
has said about individual performances has, to a certain extent, to be a part
of the discussion; however, it is less relevant since it is usually anecdotal
and more about specific performance issues to do with venue and
6
John Milsom used the term “manner of realization” in his article “Organ Music 1,” in Peter Hill,
ed., The Messiaen Companion (London: Faber and Faber, 1995), 51–71, especially 60.
7
Leech-Wilkinson, (2009), “Chapter 2.2.1,” paragraph 9, http://charm.rhul.ac.uk/studies/chapters/
chap2.html.
8
Ibid.
214 Andrew Shenton
performers, than about essential issues that can be applied to other works.
It is also clear from both general and specific comments made by Pärt that Do whatever!
he would not wish for any remarks about performance he made (especially
earlier in his career) to be considered the final word on the subject.
What Pärt has to say about performing his music is encapsulated in his
remark made in response to a question about his aesthetic: “It is enough
when a single note is beautifully played.”9 Commentators and reviewers of
his music have often quoted this phrase, but what does it actually mean,
especially in terms of performance? It is a certainly a reaction to overcomplex
music, and possibly also to sound that is electronically or digitally created
and is therefore not humanly produced.10 “Beautifully played” implies tech-
nical command of the instrument, but it also suggest an aesthetic approach,
an approach where a cosmos of sound is encapsulated in a single pitch and
heard and understood by both performer and listener alike. Here beauty
translates to communicability, reciprocity, synergy, and a reflexive aesthetic.
The ideal is powerful and meditative, a sound in which focus and energy has
been committed by the player to the singularity, that is the widely discussed
notion that the two tintinnabuli lines actual combine to form a single whole
(or 1 + 1 = 1, as it has been described by various people).11
Pärt’s comments are useful in two areas, first as they relate to his creative
process and to tintinnabulation; and second, to his method of working with
performers. For Pärt, the essence of his music is captured in pitches,
expressive articulation, and their relation to one another, not in their
orchestration. This is why many of his works exist in several different
versions. For example, Spiegel im Spiegel is best described through its
particular series of pitches and rhythms, not as a work for violin and
piano (its original scoring), or any of its subsequent instrumentations.
In Pärt’s soundscape the salient features of the work usually exist indepen-
dently of the scoring.
For me, the highest value of music is outside its color. Special instrumental timbre
is part of the music, yet it’s not a primary quality. That would be my capitulation to
the secret of music. Music has to exist by itself . . . two, three notes. The secret must
9
Cited in Current Biography Yearbook 1995 (New York: H. W. Wilson Company, 1995), 456 and
elsewhere.
10
Despite having been a sound engineer and having familiarity with electronic means of
manipulating music, and having lived through the rise of digital music, Pärt has eschewed this
type of composition (with the exception of the drone in the Te Deum (1984/1992/2007), which
is used to function like the ison in Byzantine church music).
11
See Paul Hillier, Arvo Pärt (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), 96. Hillier attributes the
idea to Nora Pärt.
be there, independent of any instrument. Music must derive from inside, and
I have deliberately tried to write such music that can be played on a variety of
instruments.12
According to Pärt, this means that there is no “authentic” version of

Spiegel, but that each contains the essence of the music and can therefore
equally transmit any emotion and meaning contained in the work.
Understanding Pärt’s attitude toward rehearsing is an important way to
understand his music. Paul Hillier, one of Pärt’s most influential inter-
preters, describes his experience working with Pärt as following a fixed
pattern with several stages: “first an exploration of the work (often slowing
the tempo to do so) and trying to match in sound the distinct character of
a particular piece; then, when the work has come into focus so to speak, the
composer moves away and leaves the performers to make their own
performance.”13
Three further comments by Pärt exemplify his expectations of what
performers contribute to his music as part of a collaborative process.
First, in Supin’s 2002 film 24 Preludes for a Fugue there is a scene in which
Pärt thanks a group of performers and demonstrates metaphorically how
a composer needs performers by holding up his coat and letting it drop to
the floor, noting that without a person the coat cannot function. He
speaks of performers as collaborators and of his music as a link between
two humans: “Then suddenly an interpreter comes along, who plays
something out of this empty space in such a way that you feel within
yourself that this is no longer your music. In fact, it isn’t my music.
The music is simply a bridge between us, and what the interpreter does is
very beautiful.”14
Second, discussing a 1990 performance by the Heinrich Schütz-Chor,
Tokyo, Pärt remarked that “They performed the Passio (1982) in their own
way, and with a manner of phrasing that was very different from what we
are used to, and with an accentuation that comes from their way of speak-
ing. I was astounded, because their manner of interpretation really fit my
way of writing.”15 That some of the linguistic characteristics of Japanese
provide a different (and successful) expressive mode, according to the Pärt,
widens the scope of “correct” interpretation as the composer defines it.
It also implies that a variety of culturally derived interpretations are not
12
Martin Elste, “An Interview with Arvo Pärt,” Fanfare 11 (March/April 1988): 339.
13
Paul Hillier, “Observations on the Performance of Arvo Pärt’s Choral Music.” In Arvo Pärt
Collected Choral Works (Universal Edition, 1999), 8.
14
Elste, “Interview,” 340. 15 Restagno, In Conversation, 67.
216 Andrew Shenton
necessarily antithetical to universalizing notions about the score (which

affirms the notion that the essence of this music lies in its notes and not in
its performances). Pärt is able to appreciate this version and find that it falls
within a spectrum of interpretation that succeeds. Japanese audiences
might find this interpretation more native. That said, recordings by the
Hilliard Ensemble and others of Pärt’s music have been successful with
a range of non-British audiences; audiences that are not presented with
a “native” interpretation but for whom an Anglophone interpretation
speaks directly to the listener in some other way.
Third, Pärt was asked a philosophical question about interpretation of
his Stabat Mater (1985) by Enzo Restagno. Pärt replied, “I cannot offer you
anything objective here: it is possible that there are many interpretations,
and if I were to add something, perhaps this would act as a barrier to the
spontaneity of a listener’s response.”16 Unlike Messiaen, for example, who
wrote extensive notes not only about his compositional process but also
about what his music means, Pärt has preferred to strip away the amount of
additional information he provides, thereby freeing the performer to
coauthor the work in the form made audible. As Leech-Wilkinson notes,
Composers may speak about what they want, especially in relatively modern times
when there is an audience interested in what they have to say – which was hardly
the case before the nineteenth century. But words can convey little of how one
wants a piece to be experienced, which is, after all, the most important thing.
Anything one may specify, in a score or in words or by requiring certain instru-
ments, can be turned into a wide range of different sounds by performers without
any contradiction of those instructions.17
Since Pärt has many fine interpreters how can the comments and views
of other performers contribute to our understanding of performing his
music?
What Performers and Other Commentators Say
The existing commentary on performing Pärt’s music by musicians and

conductors elaborates a trope that this music requires a new approach
because of the perception that it is fundamentally different from any-
thing that has gone before.18 Conductor Andreas Peer Kähler observes
16
Ibid., 80. 17 Leech-Wilkinson, http://charm.rhul.ac.uk/studies/chapters/chap2.html.
18
I refer to sources readily available in print since they uncover enough of the essential material;
however, performers of specific works should avail themselves of more specific material. This
that, unlike some canonic repertory, for Pärt’s music “there is not even
a single point to lean on if one cannot cope – technically or mentally –
with the interpretative requirements.”19 It is interesting that Kähler suggests
that there is a strong mental element involved; unwittingly serving as
a corrective to less experienced performers who could misconstrue the
apparent simplicity of Pärt’s music as reason to be less engaged. Kähler
rightly notes that “such issues as balance between the triads (T) and melodic
line (M), a controlled vibrato, dynamics without accidental crescendo and
diminuendos . . . have to be subjected to careful self-observation and con-
trol,” and he proposes that performers need to “take time to get close to the
sound with reverence and inner calm.”20 Hillier puts it rather more bluntly,
suggesting that “The performers must be committed to the music; they
cannot simply turn up and play the notes.”21
Both conductors also relate notions of good performance to something
more intangible. As Kähler notes, “Pärt’s drive towards purity of sound and
relentless demand for balance and uniformity inexorably leads the musi-
cian’s (and listener’s) consciousness to wholeness and inviolability,” and he
suggests that this sacrosanct approach is “a bewildering phenomenon in
the context of the twenty-first century!”22 Hillier indicates that “Pärt’s
musical style appears devoid of individual rhetorical [and] expressive
gestures,” suggesting that “where they exist at all, [they] exist as precom-
posed elements of the music.”23 Hillier turns to an analogy with Russian
icon painting to illustrate something fundamental about the expressivity
and spiritual nature of Pärt’s music.24 Although such analogies are now
common in discussion of Pärt’s music, it is important to understand from
the performer’s perspective the spiritual value of this music to the
listener.25
material may also perhaps be considered “first generation” since some of it dates back several
decades. More material will become available over time as people begin to disseminate
materials they have, and the Arvo Pärt Centre will be an extraordinary resource once it opens.
19
Andreas Peer Kähler, “Radiating from Silence: The Works of Arvo Pärt Seen through the
Musician’s Eyes.” In The Cambridge Companion to Arvo Pärt, ed. Andrew Shenton
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 194.
20
Ibid.
21
Hillier, Arvo Pärt, 203. Hillier covers much of the same ground with some elaborations in his
introductory essay “Observations on the Performance of Arvo Pärt’s Choral Music.”
22
Kähler, The Cambridge Companion, 196. 23 Hillier, “Observations,” 8.
24
Hillier, Arvo Pärt, 4ff.
25
This is a common topic in reviews and journalism on Pärt but has also begun to be tackled on
a deeper level by several scholars. See, for example, Robert Sholl, “Arvo Pärt and Spirituality.”
In The Cambridge Companion to Arvo Pärt, ed. Andrew Shenton (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2012), 140–158; and Peter Bouteneff’s examination of the interplay between
218 Andrew Shenton
Hillier acknowledges the technical simplicity of much of the music, but

advises that “it is generally very hard to sustain the right balance of
intensity and, for want of a better word, objectivity.”26 He agrees with
Kähler on the broad issues of performance, and suggests that “in this
laconic world of sound, so often derived from words, yet always reaching
beyond them to touch what they mean but cannot say, the phrasing of each
line in the music is of crucial importance, as is the right balance between
the different voices.”27
Balance in timbre and volume is certainly a crucial element in music that
is founded on mathematical precompositional techniques since this often
requires (of singers especially) an ability to understand the entire texture of
a chord and its relation to other chords, and to compensate for pitches that
may be exceptionally high or low in the tessitura. Because the T-voice is
often written with large leaps, the lines need to be practiced so that they are
fluid in both voice and instruments. It is essential to mediate unstressed
syllables on higher pitches that are brought about through the mathematics
of the T-voice writing so that they do not stand out in the texture.
A practical solution to this challenge, namely, to redistribute the parts
among the different voice parts, is discussed below.
Both Kähler and Hillier believe that good intonation is crucial.
The harmonics of bells, the sound which tintinnabulation perhaps resem-
bles, are not in any equal temperament, and for singers and instrumental-
ists versed in working in different tuning systems, playing Pärt in unequal
temperaments is a revelation since small modifications in intonation can
color the music more richly. For those who are used to working in the
equal-tempered world, Pärt’s music requires subtle allegiance to some
fundamental intervals in their pure form, since the foundation of the
tintinnabuli technique works on the most precise tuning of different levels
of dissonance. The music is richer if these intervals are as pure as possible.
As Hillier notes, “when the triad [T-voice] is well-tuned, its constituent
elements vibrate sympathetically and, moreover, the non-triadic pitches
(which give the music its nuance) can achieve their maximum affect.”28
In many types of choral singing certain pitches will naturally be tuned
slightly lower or higher than the notated pitch (the seventh and third for
example) in order to produce a resonant sound. Since there is a tendency
for most choirs to go flat, aside from the obvious mitigating techniques
Pärt’s music and its roots in the Orthodox Christian tradition in Arvo Pärt: Out of Silence
(New York: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2015).
26
Ibid., 203. 27 Ibid. 28 Hillier, “Observations,” 7.
such as proper posture and breath support, learning to return to true

pitches in the T-voice, rather than relative ones based on the degree of
dissonance with the M-voice(s), will produce a better overall sound.
Aspiring to precise tuning means that vibrato should be kept to
a minimum for both singers and instrumentalists since it will affect the
quality of intonation. Hillier specifically warns against a type of vibrato
commonly used by singers on longer pitches, since they are often taught
that this is appropriate for music of any style or period. Pärt’s music
requires choirs to move beyond that kind of generic technique. Rather it
necessitates a specific and conscious adaptation of aspects of technique that
suit the specific sound required of the style.
Hillier notes that singers accustomed to performing early music are at an
advantage, but in the end he believes that “it is not early music per se which
provides answers, but rather the fact that a particular kind of instrument
[voice type] is best suited to Pärt’s music.” He describes this voice as one
that uses “minimal vibrato and [can] project the music with great clarity
and focus, but without loss of expressive colour, phrasing, and dynamic
variety.”29 He identifies plainsong as the original model for these charac-
teristics, “not only for its general feeling of prayerfulness, but for the kind
of phrasing it engenders, beginning quietly, intensifying towards the cen-
tre, then falling away.”30
There are other elements that are frequently discussed as important to
Pärt’s music. For example, Pärt’s use of silence as a creative and thematic
element. Hillier suggests that the way to “play” silence is to link it to the
surrounding sounds.31 In this manner, the silence is colored, and essen-
tially informs what comes before and after. This absence of pitch is aurally
refreshing and the silences often contribute to the calm and spiritual
tone of the music (although there are certainly times when these silences
can be deafening, pregnant, thick, and heavy). Hillier also comments on
the importance of the venue as an element of the performance, since
“performers will discover that the acoustic space becomes part of the
composition – or indeed is itself an instrument on which the music is to be
played.”32 For the choral works in particular a resonant space is useful to
a stylish performance since it aids many of the issues of tuning, balance,
and blend. In a dead acoustic some of the long silences Pärt notates, in the
Missa syllabica (1977) for example, can feel artificial, even uncomfortable.
A different approach is put forward by journalist Martin Elste who, as
part of an interview with Pärt, proposed to the composer that there are,
29
Ibid. 30
Ibid. 31
Hillier, Arvo Pärt, 199. 32
Hillier, “Observations,” 9.
220 Andrew Shenton
broadly speaking, two ways to perform this music: “one is the strict,
detached kind, with the notes placed one after the other. A different way
is the more romantically influenced style, with agogic [accentual]
impetus.”33 Asked which way he preferred Pärt replied, “that makes no
difference to me. Something else is important: interpretation must live, it
must breathe and convince us. Only that has value and importance.
Everything else is to my mind mere theory.” This viewpoint is reiterated
by Pärt regarding Neeme Järvi, who has conducted Cantus differently each
time he performs the piece. Pärt said, “he lives and changes and so does his
interpretation . . . I have learned that each performance is a unique version
in which every bit has its own place.”34 Elste, who trained as a violinist, is
alluding to a legacy of performance traditions that are now perhaps
a burden to performers who have been trained in a nineteenth-century
European conservatory tradition. Those performers with a background in
early music performance are at an advantage since many of the goals
regarding intonation, vibrato, and clarity of sound are desired in contem-
porary practice. In sum, these techniques map more readily onto an ideal
for Pärt’s music. It is no coincidence that one of his most important
interpreters is the Hilliard Ensemble, a classical vocal group known for
their compelling performances of early music.35
Ultimately, performers shouldn’t rely on what the composer or other
performers have said about a piece since it absolves them from a certain
responsibility to truly engage with the music. We therefore need to deter-
mine exactly what interpretation means for Pärt’s music.
The Question of Interpretation
So what does it mean to interpret Pärt and how is it different from any
other interpretation? In his broad survey Interpreting Music, Lawrence
Kramer defines interpretation two ways: as understanding a musical
work and performing a musical score.36 For Kramer, interpretation neces-
sarily involves questions of musical meaning, which he suggests follow one
of two tracks, one semiotic, and the other hermeneutic. For Kramer,
33
Elste, “Interview,” 340. These equate to the notions of executor and interpreter discussed
further below.
34
Ibid.
35
Their first recording of Pärt’s music was Passio (1998; ECM New Series / B000026035), CD.
36
Lawrence Kramer, Interpreting Music (California: University of California Press, 2010), 19.
Semiotic approaches assume that meaning is constructed on the basis of signs, so

that interpretation has to be grounded in the recognition of the signs, sign func-
tions, and codes embedded in the object interpreted. Hermeneutic approaches
assume that meaning in the larger sense is neither inherent in the object of
interpretation nor constructible on the basis of meanings locally encoded in the
object; interpretation entails the agency of an interpreter who is more than
a decoder, even a creative one.37
For Pärt’s instrumental music, especially the strict tintinnabuli pieces, it is

hard to adopt a semiotic approach since the tintinnabuli technique is new
and its gestures do not initially contain meaning even if they tap into an
established sign system through their basis in plainsong and early music and
eventually create their own meaning. Although its heritage may be in certain
earlier musics, Pärt’s style has few of the features of common practice music
and therefore little of the associated symbolism. His music does accrue
meaning in a semiotic sense in two circumstances: when it is texted, and
when it is paired with visual media. That said, it has been widely documen-
ted, above and beyond these two conditions, that Pärt’s music evokes reac-
tions described as spiritual and emotive by his audience.
Kramer believes that musical meaning typically expresses itself three
ways:
1) Through affect (which he believes refers to the particular kinds of
feeling prized, sought, or conceptualized at a given historical juncture).
2) Through the deployment of the sensory qualities (pace, texture,
dynamics, register, timbre, etc.) that music mobilizes in place of the
kind of referential system distributed throughout the system of texts
and images that has historically defined representation in the Western
world.
3) Through time, since music unfolds deliberately in time, meaning con-
sists and “insists” in the process of its unfolding.38
But Kramer also warns that “As a practice, however, interpretation

stubbornly refuses to be regulated. It dismisses the claims of ownership
and authority implicitly made by those who set down the regulations.”39
What we are trying to understand then is a performance style for Pärt that
allows for meaning to be expressed in these ways.
On the notion of performance style Leech-Wilkinson describes “habits”
that composers have with regard to “melodic, harmonic, textural and
formal composition that are characteristic both of them and of their
37 38 39
Kramer, Interpreting Music, 21. Ibid., 71. Ibid., 251.
222 Andrew Shenton
generation . . .” Likewise, he believes that “all performers have a slightly

different collection of habits, which we can call their personal style.”40
According to Leech-Wilkinson “current taste selects performers who con-
form, and in doing so it creates a ‘period style’ which may be defined by
habits that many of them have in common.”41 Within that normative style
he believes gifted performers are able to rise above the crowd because they
offer something novel within the current general habits. The crux of the
matter is how performers provide the somewhat intangible extra to
a performance that moves beyond a literal presentation of the score, and
how they provide a performance that is deemed by the listener as “musi-
cal.” “To say that a performance is ‘musical’” Leech-Wilkinson believes, “in
effect means that aspects of what is notated are performed non-literally,
with some variation from the notated value which brings a sense of beauty
or a feeling of communicated meaning to a performance of the score.”42
It is this that touches the listener and validates a performance as successful
in some way.
There is of course a distinction between performer as executor and
performer as interpreter. Robert Fink, who in his description of the forging
Geometric performances
of a modernist performing style, contrasts nineteenth-century “vitalist”
performances with modern “geometric” performances.43 Naturally this
distinction between executor and interpreter will have been a different
sort of question in the nineteenth century, however, Fink notes that “geo-
metric performing practice brings with it a self-consciously objective
stylistic ideology based on metronomic, unyielding tempos and a horror
of excessive rubato.”44 He continues by using Stravinsky’s distinction
between the idea of interpretation, which “implies the limitations imposed
upon the performer or those which the performer imposes upon himself in
his proper function, which is to transmit music to the listener,” and the
idea of execution, which “implies the strict putting into effect of an explicit
will that contains nothing beyond what it specifically commands.”45 Fink
elaborates, noting that: “the ideal modernist performer [i.e. one who per-
forms strictly notated ‘modern’ music] is an executor who voluntarily
submerges his or her personality and adds nothing to the composer’s
40
Daniel Leech-Wilkinson, “Recordings and Histories of Performance Style.” In The Cambridge
Companion to Recorded Music, ed. Nicolas Cook, Eric Clarke, Daniel-Leech Wilkinson, and
John Rink (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 248.
41
Ibid. 42 Leech-Wilkinson, “Recordings and Histories,” 255.
43
Robert Fink, “‘Rigoroso (eighthnote = 126)’: The Rite of Spring and the Forging of a Modernist
Performing Style,” The Journal of the American Musicological Society 52/2 (1999): 299–362.
44
Fink, “Rigoroso,” 308. 45 Ibid.
intentions. The executor ignores spurious emotional or ‘spiritual’ prompt-

ings, keeps the scenic or programmatic element firmly in its place, and
remains aloof from all hermeneutics, preferring to base performance
decisions on purely musical, purely material considerations.”46 This was
not the case for a Romantic interpreter, for whom personal expression was
the key, transmitting, as Fink says, “not the notes but what was between
and behind them: the sense of a living, feeling consciousness at work.”
In sum, performers of Pärt’s music must decide whether to be an
executor or an interpreter, or to find some acceptable middle ground.
Given Pärt’s assertion that the music is contained primarily in the pitches
Performer:
and tempo, while timbre and other variables are not fundamental to its
Executor or interpreter
ideal execution, the performer as executor is a valid way of approaching
this music. Further, an executor might propose that any other nuance or
self-expression is unnecessary and perhaps even distracting. On the other
hand, an interpreter may approach it as highly emotive music and be
comfortable with the notion that decoding elements of the score can be
done stylishly and in the service of self-expression. There is no correct way
for Pärt’s music. Either of these approaches will work, and both depend on
an understanding of what is included and what is expected in Pärt’s scores.
The Score and Its Value
The modern interpreter bases their judgment on a series of interconnected

resources of which the printed or manuscript score is prima inter pares.
The key to reading any score is to understand that everything that is not
unambiguously notated requires interpretation. To a certain extent some
markings in the score also require interpretation (dynamics and tempo, for
example); however, the goal of historically informed performance practice
is to bridge the gap between what a composer has written, what they
intended by what they had written, and understanding what the composer
assumed the performer would realize from the notation. In this way, for
example, we know from extramusical source materials that in the eight-
eenth century notation of trills is ambiguous. Skillful contemporary reali-
zations of eighteenth-century signs are thus dependent on knowledge of
several aspects of the past, specifically defined by the cultural conventions
of place. The value of respecting the original “world” of the work is
similarly true for reading Pärt’s scores. When, for example, in Spiegel im
46
Ibid., 309.
224 Andrew Shenton
Spiegel he notates a series of whole notes in the violin part he expects the
performer to have some notion of the tintinnabuli soundscape, a sense of
interiority in performance, and to somehow ensure that each note is
“beautifully played.”
Pärt’s scores present many problems principally because the informa-
tion they contain is sparse. Many do not have tempo markings (though in
some cases Pärt has suggested an approximate length and one can calculate
from the number of measures and beats what the tempo could be).47 There
are very few performance indications such as expressive markings and
bowings. This is problematic because in this music, precompositional
decisions often take precedence over the conventions of aligning verbal
accents and staying within common tessitura. Many of the problems
regarding the different versions of works and discrepancies between
autograph, score, and recordings will not be resolved until the resources
of the Arvo Pärt Archive in Estonia are made readily available. Stuart
Greenbaum’s work on the Te Deum has pioneered this approach toward
verifying source material.48 Ensemble performers therefore have to adjust
their technique within their own part to be of service to the whole sound.
To explore these issues regarding the score and its performance, I turn now
to a detailed look at the Kyrie of the Berliner Messe.
The Berliner Messe
The Berliner Messe was composed in 1990 and currently exists in seven
versions: three for mixed chorus and string orchestra (1990/1991/200249)
and four for mixed chorus and organ (1990/1992/1997/200250). It was
commissioned “on behalf of the 90th German Catholic Conference,” and
premiered in St. Hedwig’s Cathedral, Berlin, Germany, on 24 May 1990 by
the Theatre of Voices.51 The score includes the ordinary of the Mass (Kyrie,
Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, Agnus Dei) and two sets of Propers: two alleluia
verses for Christmas Eve, and two for Pentecost. The score also contains
47
Even here there is considerable flexibility. For example, I am the true vine (1996 – UE 30 301),
an a cappella work for SATB consisting of 192 measures of unequal length, has no tempo
indication; however, Pärt suggests an expansive approximate duration of 5' 30" to 9' 30."
48
Stuart Greenbaum, “Arvo Pärt’s Te Deum: A Compositional Watershed” (PhD diss., University
of Melbourne, 1999), 9ff.
49
UE 32762: study score; 32761: choral score.
50
UE 32989: score (with organ part); 32990: vocal score.
51
The premiere was given in a concert, not in a liturgy. Nevertheless, Pärt may have included the
material for Pentecost because it fell just a few days later on Sunday 3 June 1990.
a setting of the Pentecost hymn “Veni Sancte Spiritus” (Come Holy

Ghost).52 The latter five movements are all marked “ad lib.,” to indicate
that they need not be included in any performance.
Generally speaking, conductors have opted for the 2002 score of either
the orchestral or the organ reduction because it is the one most easily
available from the publisher and because of the general perception that this
is the more authentic and correct version. The 2002 versions of the scores
are not without problems, however, so it can be instructive to revisit earlier
scores that are often available in libraries.53
Some differences between editions are due to the adoption of a new
“house style” introduced by Universal Edition, resulting in a cleaner look-
ing score. In the 2002 versions of the Kyrie of the Berliner Messe time
signatures are removed from the start of measures (expressed as the usual
fraction), to a single numeral above the bar line at the start of the measure
(expressed only as the number of beats per measure). This strategy empha-
sizes that the rhythm is consistently based on a quarter-note pulse.
Tintinnabuli Technique in the Kyrie
The revised editions still contain areas that are problematic and to address
these challenges it is necessary to understand the compositional processes
that underlie its construction. The following are the principal (pre)com-
positional techniques:
i) Alto and Bass are the M-voices; Soprano and Tenor are the T-voices.
ii) Each syllable for the ninefold Kyrie is a quarter note, except Ky-,
Chris-, and -le-, which are four beats. The last syllable is always
a dotted quarter note.
iii) The voices are utilized on the principle of addition and subtraction.
The first Kyrie section begins with the Alto voice and Pärt adds another
for each successive word in the order S+T+B. The Christe section starts
52
Pärt set the Pentecost hymn Veni creator spiritus for mixed choir or soloists and organ in 2006
(UE 33397: organ score).
53
For example, in the 2002/2013 edition of the string version, in the Gloria the last beat of m. 74 is
correctly a Soprano T-voice movement below the Alto but then on the first beat of m. 75 the
Soprano maintains its position from the previous beat, a D, which is unison with the Alto. In the
1992 revision the mistake is repeated but in a different fashion: in this case the score articulates
a -1 T-voice movement from the last beat of 74 to the first beat of 75, going from a D below the
Alto G and then a B♭ below the Alto D. This movement is based on a +/– 1 T-voice
relationship. If the rules of tintinnabulation are strictly applied, the correct pitch on beat 1
of m. 75 should be low B♭ in the Soprano part.
226 Andrew Shenton
with four voices and is reduced one by one from the bottom up until
only the Soprano is left. The second Kyrie section repeats the first section,
with the exception of the Soprano T-voice, and the Soprano and Tenor
parts that swap for the remaining measures. This subtle change of texture
allows Pärt to renew formal interest in the second section. The change
also makes it more interesting for the performers to sing.
iv) As with most works from this period, each word is given a separate
measure, and in this case, each measure is marked with a double bar
(except for the organ part at the start and end of the movement).
v) In the Kyrie, each measure of music ends with an eighth-note rest.
In this regard the resonant acoustics of St. Hedwig’s Cathedral shaped
the score, since Pärt embeds the space for breath and reverberation.
This occurs before each new measure and allows the pedal G (which is
resounded at the end of each “eleison”) to be reheard before each new
phrase of text. Each new textual phrase starts with a quarter-note rest
so this textual silence (over the pedal drone) is also more audible.
vi) The form of the piece is not a ninefold Kyrie, as is the norm.54 Instead
Pärt sets a sixfold Kyrie. Each of the six settings consists of a three
measures phrase: one for the word Kyrie (or Christe), one for the word
“eleison,” and a third in which the organ or strings echo the music of
the word “eleison.” The eighteen measures begin and end with a two-
beat pedal note that establishes the modality of the movement.
vii) The entire text is unaccompanied. In other movements Pärt accom-
panies the voices with the organ (or strings) and alternates this with
passages for unaccompanied voices and for instruments alone.
Many of these techniques can be seen in the opening measures of the
version for organ and choir (Example 9.1).
So what are some of the important questions that confront the conduc-
tor of this piece and what are the solutions that fall within the parameters of
a stylish performance, that is to say having a good sense of an appropriate
manner of performance for this music?
i) Time signatures are indicated but often measures are lengthy, so simple
metric conducting patterns are not effective, especially since they imply
a hierarchy of strong and weak beats which is not present in Pärt’s
music. A sensible alternative is to conduct only the ictus, the specific
point where a beat occurs. Within this framework, a conductor is free to
indicate other expressive elements as they deem necessary.
54
The normal form is: Kyrie eleison x 3, Christe eleison x 3, Kyrie eleison x 3.
Example 9.1 Berliner Messe, Kyrie, mm 1–4 © 1999/2002 by Universal Edition, A.G.
Wien/UE 36063
ii) There is no tempo indication, either with a metronome mark or a verbal

indication. This freedom of choice has been exercised in several record-
ings, which have markedly different speeds (Table 9.1).
Table 9.1 Berliner Messe, movement timings
Oregon Repertory Singers / Gilbert Seeley (eOne Music, 1993) = o 2:22

Elora Festival Singers & Orchestra / Noel Edison, (Naxos, 2004) = s 2:46
Theatre of Voices / Paul Hillier (Harmonia Mundi, 2006) = o 3:08
Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir / Tonu Kaljuste (ECM, 1993) = s 3:09
Polyphony / Stephen Layton (Hyperion, 2014) = o 3:26
(o = organ version, s = string version)
According to Kähler, “As with timbre, tempo is not a crucial music

parameter according to Pärt.”55 In the above examples, repeated corre-
spondences between types of instrumentation and resultant speed do not
occur between recordings; instead timing is idiosyncratic to each con-
ductor. These variations also undermine Josiah Fisk’s assertion that
Pärt’s music is “pre-interpreted” (by virtue of its minimalist design);
there is in fact a great deal of scope for interpretation. Moreover, it is not
only the speed that varies in these recordings.56
55
Kähler, The Cambridge Companion, 196.
56
Fisk claims that we are no longer talking about “music as composition, but as an aural-
emotional experience,” and he believes that, “the composer’s task in such a situation is virtually
228 Andrew Shenton
iii) Dynamics in this movement are either indicated or implied. They are
also inconsistent. The mark “p” is posted for each voice part in the first
Kyrie section. There are no dynamics marked for the Christe section
or the final Kyrie section, though there is a crescendo marked during
the first time Christe is sung. A conductor must decide the extent of
the range of the crescendo and whether the subsequent dynamic
continues for the remainder of the piece. Given the character of the
music and the precedents set by other musical elements, a return to
the “p” marking would be appropriate for the second Kyrie section.
Where dynamics are marked in the accompaniment they are “pp,”
indicating an echo effect to the sung music that precedes each phrase.
iv) There are no articulation markings such as legato or staccato and no
bow markings in the string version. A natural legato is appropriate in
the voice parts and, since the music in the accompaniment matches
and echoes the voice parts, it should be consistently applied in those
passages too. Bowings would be unusual in a score, but for Pärt, some
bowing indications might help iron out the performance difficulties of
balance and blend.
v) Pärt’s use of a separate measure for each word can lead to incorrect
syllabic emphasis since, unless performers are told that the bar line does
not imply a hierarchy of stress, the lines created through the tintinnabu-
lation processes are going to be destroyed. The use of a double bar line is
also confusing since this usually means the end of a section or piece, or an
implied break. In this score (as with many others for Pärt), the double bar
is simply part of Universal Edition’s house style and should be ignored.
vi) There are no real problems with balance in this movement; however,
the Bass part of the Gloria movement is sometimes extremely high
which is often impossible for basses or produces a less than pleasant
sound. Hillier and others advocate for an exchange of pitches with the
Tenors (or dividing the Tenor section) and, although this destroys the
integrity of the tintinnabuli or melodic line in each part, it irons out
imbalance and emphasizes the cumulative sound of each chord rather
than on individual lines.57 Tintinnabulation establishes a highly
the opposite of what a classical composer’s job has always been. Instead of creating something
dynamic and engaging, he is creating something static and relaxing. Instead of giving us music
that requires our own input and interpretation, he provides music that is pre-interpreted.
The listener has been reduced from participant in a musical process to consumer of a musical
product.” Josiah Fisk, “The New Simplicity: The Music of Górecki, Tavener and Part,”
The Hudson Review 47/3, (Fall 1994): 408.
57
Hillier, Arvo Pärt, 204.
refined hierarchy of dissonance, one that Pärt skillfully manipulates

through a sense of tension and relaxation both on the micro and
macro scales. Despite the independence of his lines this is not poly-
phonic music. Elsewhere I contend that the best approach to analyzing
this new compositional technique is to view it vertically as a series of
connected dissonances.58
vii) As noted above, tuning is always an issue in Pärt’s music. As Hillier
notes, “the fact remains that the music sounds (rings) best when it is
perfectly tuned.”59
Broadly these are the issues that confront a conductor for this piece.
Next I turn to how other performers have tackled the problems of per-
forming Pärt.
Editorial or Additional Information from Other People
Three people who have worked closely with Pärt have contributed to the
development of his music, particularly to the way the music has been
notated. In the organ music, British organist Christopher Bowers-
Broadbent has been largely responsible for notating registration, eviden-
cing decisions that stem from his close personal work with Pärt and
with the Hilliard Ensemble. Pärt has attributed nearly all of the organ
registrations to his long collaboration with Bowers-Broadbent.60 Hillier
encourages the use of recordings as a reference for the use of registration.
In fact both recordings and the notations in the score are often not useful
since they represent sounds on specific types of organ (often German in
origin and nomenclature) that cannot be readily reproduced. Organists
and conductors therefore need to work on issues of timbre and balance for
registration in situ, rather than relying on trying to replicate exact instruc-
tions in the score. It should also be noted that organ registrations could be
used to enhance the meaning of the text. For example, Hillier notes that for
shorter works registration is fixed (i.e., unchanging for a movement or
piece) and “directly reflects the layers of vocal scoring,” whereas the
Hilliard recording of Passio “shows a much greater variety of organ
58
For details of this hierarchical analysis, see Andrew Shenton, Arvo Pärt’s Resonant Texts: Choral
and Organ Music 1956–2015 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017).
59
Hillier, Arvo Pärt, 204.
60
Vittorio Carrara, “Dare calore al suono freddo dell’organo,” Arte organaria e organistica IV
(April–June 1997): 12.
230 Andrew Shenton
color, following the meaning of the text, and is not so closely bound to
abstract musical constructions.”61
The Estonian conductor Tõnu Kaljuste is one of Pärt’s principal inter-
preters and has been able to work with Pärt on the creation of several
works. The partnership includes In Principio (2003) for choir and orches-
tra, a 25-minute work based on a text from the Gospel according to John,
dedicated to Kaljuste.62 The score reflects many suggestions made by
Kaljuste, such as tempo markings, conducting patterns, detailed dynamics,
and many expression markings such as accents and stresses (Example 9.2).
These are all realized in the ECM recording of the work (conducted by
Kaljuste), which, like the recording of Tabula Rasa noted below, provides
a general frame of reference for other performers.63
In Principio was composed fifteen years after the Berliner Messe, and is
a much more complex piece. It is possible that in the interim, Pärt learned
more about his craft and how to notate more of what he wanted, but it is
also possible that there is a different, more developed style at work here.
The music for In Principio differs in aesthetic from the Messe. In discussing
Pärt’s music it is useful to consider four compositional phases. The first has
clearly defined limits; the others less so, but nevertheless can be considered
as broadly speaking distinct phases ending with a major culminating work.
Phase 1 Pre-tintinnabulation
Juvenilia (1956) to Credo (1968): A period of learning and devel-
opment as a professional composer.
Phase 2 Tintinnabulation
Für Alina (1976) to Passio (1982): A period of development of
tintinnabulation and of strict adherence to its compositional
rules.
Phase 3 Expanded tintinnabulation
Es sang vor langen Jahren (1984) to Kanon Pokajanen (1997):
A period in which the rules of tintinnabulation are less rigorously
applied and in which experimentation in form and timbre are
apparent.
Phase 4 Synthesized tintinnabulation
The Woman with the Alabaster Box (1997) to Lamentate (2002):
A period in which tintinnabulation is still present in the sound,
61
Hillier, “Observations,” 8.
62
In Principio (2003; Universal Edition, A.G. Wien / UE 32655), score.
63
In Principio (2009; ECM New Series 476 6990), CD. Kaljuste conducts the Estonian
Philharmonic Chamber Choir and the Estonian National Symphony Orchestra.
Example 9.2 In Principio, mm 1–7 © 2003 by Universal Edition, A.G. Wien/UE 32655
232 Andrew Shenton
but synthesized with other compositional features that denote

a mature style.
Phase 5 Freedom
In Principio (2003) to Kleine Litanei (2015): a period in which
there are few if any constraints to composition as Pärt draws on
a lifetime of training and experience.
Performers can modify their Pärt performance style between these periods;
however, the purity of sound and the aesthetic of each note “beautifully
played” continue regardless of which phase the music is from. Pärt’s
performance style is a constant in his oeuvre and a unique feature of his
work. It behooves a modern choir to sing music by Palestrina differently
from the way it sings music by Stravinsky by adjusting tuning, timbre,
voicing, and other performance features. The same is true for orchestras
whose players need to be conscious of aspects of style so that their
approach to performing Pärt results in a noticeably different and identifi-
able sound.
Authorized Recordings
Recordings also provide an important resource for performing Pärt’s

music. Pärt was a professional sound engineer with an excellent under-
standing of both the technical and artistic sides of the recording process.
It stands to reason therefore that recordings at which he was present reflect,
in a very real way, a kind of ideal performance, and Pärt himself gives us the
lead on how much to utilize recordings: “When I think of my Tabula rasa,
a piece that to begin with proved to be very problematic, I must admit that
these problems have now disappeared. Thanks to the CD recording of
Gidon Kremer and Tatjana Gridenko there has been a general frame of
reference as to how this piece should be played.”64
Elsewhere, in connection with Olivier Messiaen, I have detailed the
specific use of the recording as an adjunct to the score.65 Since I wrote
that essay the use of recordings has been further explored by musicologists
as an extremely useful way to understand music. Nicholas Cook, for
example, has proposed methods for analyzing recordings using advances
in technology to help codify aspects of style; and Daniel Leech-Wilkinson,
64
Restagno, In Conversation, 78.
65
Andrew Shenton, “Composer as Performer, Recording as Text.” In Messiaen Studies, ed.
Robert Sholl (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011), 168–187.
Robert Philips, and others have developed histories of performance style

through recordings.66
One of the reasons that some recordings bear Pärt’s imprimatur is that
many works have been refined in the process of being premiered and then
recorded. Greenbaum notes with Te Deum that “the sound recording bears
more authority than the composer’s autograph score which had numerable
sections crossed out and a number of inconsistencies marked with question
marks.”67 Hillier alludes to this later authority, suggesting that “Some of
the scores posed questions which would obviously benefit from discussion
with the composer (this applied to the scores on hire only: those for sale
contained all the information that was needed).”68
Pärt’s recorded “texts” should also be considered as agents of an increas-
ingly homogenized twentieth-century performance practice, in part due to
their ubiquity. In the era before widespread recording, there were greater
degrees of difference in interpretation. Jim Samson argues, for example,
that by the end of the nineteenth century there were at least four
approaches to performing Chopin along national lines: French, Russian,
German, and English. These four distinct piano-playing styles no longer
exist since the availability of recordings has homogenized sound along two
broad lines of thought: a traditionalist approach exemplified by the utiliza-
tion of a generic technique that is applied not just to Chopin, but to all
music, and an historically informed approach that seeks to determine more
of the parameters of a musical work and to apply these in a way that
approaches an understanding of the way the piece may originally have
sounded (although even here the boundaries are blurred).
Early music specialist John Milsom discusses recordings by Messiaen’s
students, and suggests that they do not “replicate Messiaen’s own solu-
tions” but rather are roughly aligned in a “manner of realization.”
In addition to coming to terms with ambiguous markings in the score,
Milsom observes that this framework for performance has also provided
guidance with stylistic and timbral issues since Messiaen seems to have
taken them for granted, and when asked for advice by other organists
would guide them toward similar solutions. In Pärt’s case, recordings often
act as authoritative prototypes when realizing his music since most of his
music has been recorded, and these recordings were often made with direct
participation of the composer or with his imprimatur. In this sense,
66
Nicholas Cook, “Methods for Analyzing Recordings.” In The Cambridge Companion to
Recorded Music, ed. Nicholas Cook, et al. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009),
221–245.
67
Greenbaum, “Arvo Pärt’s Te Deum,” 9. 68 Ibid.
234 Andrew Shenton
Milsom’s manner of realization equates with what Pärt described as the

“general frame of reference” for the first recording of Tabula Rasa. They
both share a cumulative and synthetic approach toward interpretative
models; however, in Pärt’s case the interpretive model is synthetic and
drawn from several media (text and recording).
Recordings can provide information on essential musical features such
as pitch, rhythm, tempo, and dynamics. They can also clarify notation
marks that are not explicit in the score, for example in the Magnificat
(1989), where recorded versions take different approaches to text setting.
In the Magnificat score, words are delineated by dotted bar lines and
clauses are delineated by double bar lines (in contrast to the Berliner
Messe, where there is no consistency between scores; each needs to be
considered on an individual basis). At the end of most phrases the bar lines
are the only marking; however, at the end of measure 6 (“qui potens est”)
there is an additional comma in the score. Four further commas are
marked but they are not consistent as to their placement within the text
(e.g., they do not denote a period or other pause), and they are not at any
particular strategic points in the musical narrative. Recordings by both
Cleobury and Hillier adopt the tempo indication noted in the score, but
Cleobury does not acknowledge any difference in the phrases that end with
the additional comma except where there is a final consonant which
occupies an extra “beat.” Cleobury also inserts many more breaks for
breath mid-phrase and gives them effectively the same space as the ends
of phrases indicated by double bar lines. Although this sounds natural, it
does not conform to an executor’s interpretation of the score, but rather
one of interpreter.69
Further evidence that the recordings have authority beyond the score
comes directly from ECM Records, the company that produced many of
the first recordings of Pärt’s music. The ECM website notes that as for each
of Pärt’s ECM projects, “Litany was allowed to change and settle, as it were,
to undergo a natural metamorphosis through concert performances
until its composer and producer felt it ready to be transferred to disc.”70
It was typical of Pärt’s first recordings that studio time was extended until
the composer was satisfied with both the music and the details of the
recording (such as microphone placement, and features of the recording
69
Ikos: Choral Music by Górecki, Tavener, Pärt, Choir of King’s College Cambridge / Cleobury
(1995; EMI Classics), CD; De Profundis, Theater of Voices/Hillier (1997; Harmonia Mundi),
CD.
70
Mediapolis, ECM promotional web pages, http://ecmrecords.com/arvo/index.html1995-96,
accessed May 2015.
such as ambiance and reverberation).71 Current performers now have at

least one, and, in many cases, in multiple versions, on which to base their
own interpretations.
Historically there have been two views regarding the degree to which
technology mediates the aural experience of a recorded performance. Its
earliest critic, Theodor W. Adorno, wrote in 1927 that “The work and its
interpretation are accommodated but not disturbed or merged into each
other: in its relative dimensions the work is retained and the obedient
machine – which in no way dictates any formal principles of its own –
follows the interpreter in patient imitation of every nuance.”72 Here Adorno
suggests that technology is synonymous with storing data and later replicates
exactly the original performance. Several years later, he refers to the phono-
graph record as “nothing more than [an] acoustic photograph,” and
describes the recording as designating a “two-dimensional model of
a reality that can be multiplied without limit, displaced both spatially and
temporally, and traded on the open market. This, at the price of sacrificing its
third dimension: its height and its abyss.”73 Here Adorno asserts that
technology robs performance of one of its most important dimensions.
This nostalgia for the “height and . . . abyss” created by live music making
was intensified by the crude quality of recording products in the 1930s.
In addition, his critique extended to the intangible rapport between perfor-
mer and audience, which is lost or dissipated in the recording process. Also
subsumed within Adorno’s commentary is an alignment with the concept of
“aura” proposed by Walter Benjamin in his acclaimed essay “The Work of
Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction.”74 Benjamin’s “aura” has served
as a theoretical foundation in our contemporary understanding of the
impact of recording on interpretation, in particular when – in the case
such as Pärt’s – it becomes necessary to trace the impact full circle, with
71
Nora Pärt, commenting on the length of time spent recording Miserere, said, “So we spent two
whole days resetting microphones and changing their position until after long discussions all
through the night we managed to get to grips with the problem. With a different recording
company we would never have had the opportunity of searching for such a long time for just the
right sound.” Quoted in Restagno, In Conversation, 52.
72
Theodor W. Adorno, “Nadelkurven” (1927, revised 1965), translated as “The Curve of the
Needle,” in October 55 (Winter 1990): 50. Reprinted in Richard Leipert (compiler), Essays on
Music: Theodor W. Adorno (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002), 271–276, especially
272.
73
Theodor W. Adorno, “Die Form der Schallplatte” (1934), trans. Thomas Y. Levin as “The Form
of the Phonograph Record,” October, 55 (Winter, 1990): 57. Reprinted in Essays, 277–282,
especially 278.
74
Walter Benjamin, Illuminations, ed. Hannah Arendt, trans. Harry Zohn (New York: Harcourt,
Brace and World, 1968).
236 Andrew Shenton
the recording as a text that reflectively shapes live music making. In this
context “aura” refers to the authentic breath of the work in its own original
cultural context.
Although recordings can provide us with interesting information to help
shape a live performance, they also present us with a serious problem.
The increased control of recording technology to change pitches, tempi,
tuning errors, and to edit and patch so that there are no technical errors at
all means that a recording is free from blemishes and inaccuracies, and this
promotes an unrealistic expectation for live performance. More people
now listen to music on recordings than live, and if our preparation as
a performer is for a recording we can achieve these extraordinary results;
however, we should not forget that live performances provide other ben-
efits than the perfection of recordings, including the experience of per-
forming for the performers and the intangible benefits of live performance
for the audience.
Conclusion: How Does One Interpret Pärt?
José Bowen believes that, when faced with the problem of synthesizing
a performing edition from different sources, musicologists have adopted
the two schools of recension from classical philology: “The first school of
thought suggests we can do no better than one version (thus we try to
determine which version is the most reliable and that is that).”75 Since it is
evident that the recording is more accurate at “notating” nuance and detail
but that the score is also necessary, this approach is not feasible. Bowen
describes the second school of thought as suggesting that we can “create
a composite text which resembles none of our samples, but the elements
which they share, in an attempt to recover a parent-original.”76 This is
exactly what we need to do with Pärt.
In 1938, philosopher R. G. Collingwood proposed that “Every performer
is the co-author of the work he performs.” This is undeniably true and is
becoming increasingly utilized as a musicological tool for understanding
a musical work. This is the opposite of previously established notions of the
75
José Bowen, “The History of Remembered Innovation: Tradition and Its Role in the
Relationship between Musical Works and Their Performances,” The Journal of Musicology 11
(Spring 1993): 158.
76
Ibid. The idea of a “composite text” acknowledges a debt to literary theory where the term
suggests that individual pieces are complete within themselves, yet form a work that is greater
than the sum of its parts.
role of the performer exemplified by a comment Pianist Paul Wittgenstein

made to Ravel: “Performers must not be slaves,” to which Ravel replied,
“Performers are slaves.”77 So, is there a “Pärt sound,” an ideal and stylish
way to perform this music? Kähler believes so, but cautions that “in
tintinnabulum style a process of desubjectivisation of music takes place.
The sacrifice that interpreters of Pärt’s music have to make from the
technical-instrumental point of view or from the point of view of ‘expres-
sion,’ emotion, is a levy for this exceptional kind of music. The reward will
be an increase of ‘intersubjectivity’.”78 In other words, Kähler suggests that
if performers can find the true Pärt sound then the result will be greater
communication with their listeners.
For Pärt’s choral music the answer is very clear. The choral sound
needed is directly related to the Hilliard sound. Nora Pärt recalls on
hearing the Hilliard Ensemble: “I can remember that after he heard them
Arvo said, ‘I have nothing to add. It is all perfect:’ We were moved to tears,
overjoyed to have found people that were suited to this music in every
way.”79 She also revealed that “For many years Arvo was unconvinced of
the quality of the composition [Passio], and only changed his mind after
hearing the interpretation of the Hilliard Ensemble.”80 The Hilliard
recordings leave an invaluable model on which performers can base their
interpretation, and much of the uniqueness of this style can be mapped
onto instrumental sound to great success.
This highly original soundscape needs to be approached in a very dif-
ferent way from performing other music. Performers should not be
daunted because there is enough material for an intelligent performer to
successfully think through and enact an effective performance. And, since
most of the music is of stunning beauty, the rewards are great. The final
word goes to Nora Pärt whose insight is invaluable. She declared, “I believe
that Arvo’s music is more directed towards the ear than to the intellect,”
and she notes that “one can listen to music with a wealth of different
expectations, one can look for particular interpretations, technical effects,
and new musical ideas. All these expectations are valid but one should still
be in a position simply to give oneself up to sound itself.”81
77
Timothy Day, A Century of Recorded Music: Listening to Musical History (New Haven: Yale
University Press, 2002), 187.
78
Kähler, Pärt Companion, 196. The term used to conceptualize the psychological relation
between people. It is usually used in contrast to solipsistic individual experience, emphasizing
our inherently social being.
79
Restagno, In Conversation, 51. 80 Ibid., 49. 81 Ibid., 58.

9 Performing Pärt: Every Performer Is The Co-Author of The Work He Performs

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9 Performing Pärt

Every performer is the co-author of the work he performs.1

When Pärt devised tintinnabulation in the 1970s he created a new sound-

in their aural creation. This new approach must be augmented by

What Pärt Does Not Say about Performance

It would be reasonable to assume that Pärt’s verbal comments form a valid

According to Pärt, this means that there is no “authentic” version of

necessarily antithetical to universalizing notions about the score (which

What Performers and Other Commentators Say

The existing commentary on performing Pärt’s music by musicians and

Hillier acknowledges the technical simplicity of much of the music, but

such as proper posture and breath support, learning to return to true

The Question of Interpretation

Semiotic approaches assume that meaning is constructed on the basis of signs, so

For Pärt’s instrumental music, especially the strict tintinnabuli pieces, it is

But Kramer also warns that “As a practice, however, interpretation

generation . . .” Likewise, he believes that “all performers have a slightly

intentions. The executor ignores spurious emotional or ‘spiritual’ prompt-

The Score and Its Value

The modern interpreter bases their judgment on a series of interconnected

The Berliner Messe

a setting of the Pentecost hymn “Veni Sancte Spiritus” (Come Holy

Tintinnabuli Technique in the Kyrie

ii) There is no tempo indication, either with a metronome mark or a verbal

Table 9.1 Berliner Messe, movement timings

Oregon Repertory Singers / Gilbert Seeley (eOne Music, 1993) = o 2:22

(o = organ version, s = string version)

According to Kähler, “As with timbre, tempo is not a crucial music

reﬁned hierarchy of dissonance, one that Pärt skillfully manipulates

Editorial or Additional Information from Other People

but synthesized with other compositional features that denote

Recordings also provide an important resource for performing Pärt’s

Robert Philips, and others have developed histories of performance style

Milsom’s manner of realization equates with what Pärt described as the

such as ambiance and reverberation).71 Current performers now have at

Conclusion: How Does One Interpret Pärt?

role of the performer exempliﬁed by a comment Pianist Paul Wittgenstein

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