⌉|⌈ – Für Alina

In 1976 — a year hardened by a big exodus within European confines, Alina, then eighteen years of age, left Tallin, Estonia, for a more promising life in England. Shipping in embrace with her father, she left only her mother, who was left in solitude. Arvo Pärt, by then a long-time friend of the family, syphoned from his years of composing and wove one of the most influential and sumptuous works of musical minimalism — Für Alina, the emblem of his tintinnabuli stylistic approach.

Music, unlike any other basilar-Art, envelops and takes command of a singular sense perception, and opposite to what modernistic music-videos would have you believe, Music itself pylons above little else than sound. Any aesthetic extension is dismissible to the gestalt of a piece. If a composition cannot support itself, a music-video has no worth, and shan’t amend the issue, since it is not constituent to the Art at-hand. There is, however, a very important semblance of aesthetic (by medium of thematic) in Music, laid at the very core of what makes Music, well, Music: giving order to noise and shape to silence — the simplest, most sincere description of the Art. 

Pärt, however, had many trepidations with that unique conception of his craft, and his dark, strikeful soul, compounded with the frigidity and abound lifelessness of the Estonian landscapes, opened those mires of sound that would pend and dip into those chilling waters of silence. He discovered that, perhaps, the soul of a weeping mother, missing and fearing dearly for her child, might connect more with the softness of absent sound than with the cadence and encore of a sole violin.

At roughly seventeen, I first heard this composition being played at a concerto in Lisbon’s suburbs, held in a poorly-lit office room with what felt like six sombering, silent listeners. Maybe such setting allowed me to feel the profound isolation hand-crafted by Arvo, the lingering restlessness of his notes, coalesced with sumps of a silence so-dense, so terribly overwhelming, it becomes a luscious shade that dances around you, and beats at tandem to a shrivelled heart. Alina was gone. Alina left, and with her, she took only her mother’s light, her mother’s life. And how many have done so, since, like Alina has? How many left? Leaving in their wake, the sounds of marching feet, slammed doors, doleful grunts and grievous wounds, followed by a prompt of marginal silence? Silence so long, so withering, it seems to hug you with heat?

Für Alina soothes (and suits) best those who feel abandoned at the margins of a big, haunting desolation, much like Arvo did, much akin to Alina’s mother; but also, the composition itself does not lean only on a negative effect — there is, simultaneously, moments were it lends itself to the release of youth, to the prospect of a more-complete life, a stroll of innocence within the avenues of a reality where such innocence is rewarded, and not condemned nor abused. But all the while, silence is still there, thus, pain is too; no truthfully sincere vision of a positive future may exist in a bubble of suspension, there must be descent, that bubble too must pend and dip into the chilling waters of silence; there is no courage in leaving without fear for what is left behind. Arvo, then, dares not to shy away from his still-silent soul, one that still hurts much, even in the moments when it hurts less. Arvo then upheld the truth of a minimalist — that sadness and serenity cannot be fully translated by adagios and staccatos, that release and catharsis cannot be fully translated by crescendos and da capos, but that Music itself exists only because Silence does, too. This idea, this seed that Silence itself can be a carrier of Art, a medium of emotion far beyond our conventional perception of music, was thought of way before Pärt existed, but he alone mastered the weaving of silence beyond any of his predecessors, acing it with a grace and mastery equal only to the silent landscapes of his Estonian youth. 

I often ponder on this, for Pärt heavily influences my poetry, perhaps more than many poets I admire, and without ever stringing a singular verse; I connect more with his silence, than to the pristine sound of a Shakespearian sonnet; Because I am made of more silence than I am of memories of rosie lips and venetian balconies. Because life is as much a song, as it is a pause. A long, beautiful song, and a longer, sombering pause. 

I will leave you with a fellow Portuguese artist, Joana Gama, playing Für Alina with incredible technique and properness:


Published by João-Maria

A tick clinging to the bristles of a purple boar.

14 thoughts on “⌉|⌈ – Für Alina

    1. It is not an easy-play, despite seemingly so! The precise Tempo of the pauses is a hard demand, for a small second shorter or longer may truly alter the convey-ability of the piece.
      I’ve tried playing it a couple of times, but I’ve since resigned to listening to pianists much more talented than I.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. it’s beautiful. the patience for all concerned to give space to the vibration of each string/key until it stopped. it sounds so stark and lonely. i get a vision of a single person walking through the snow in the middle of winter trees

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Johnny, have you heard the soundtrack for the movie, Phantom Thread? Saw the movie and loved the soundtrack and ordered it. It isn’t as minimalist as your selection, but it’s lovely. Here’s one selection from it:

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’ve been edged many times by my companions to view that film, but I do not have the time necessary to go to theatres, unfortunately. I must say, I love the track you’ve selected, although starkly different from Arvo’s work.
      I was already familiar with some of Jonny Greenwood’s work by medium of his Radiohead records, but I didn’t know he composed classically, and I’m pleasantly surprised with his score.
      That mellifluous streamy sound is much akin to Yoshimatsu’s later works, with some Parisian affluence and a stark mid-20s rhythm incorporation.
      Thank you for sharing this!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. You are welcome, Johnny. Classical music is not often on my playlist. Jonny Greenwood, I am familiar with through Radiohead also. Thank you for giving me two classical connections I can look into to learn more.


    1. My pleasure, Anita. Albeit considerably tired when I wrote this — hence those lazy paragraphic repetitions — I’m still incredibly humbled to have moved you. Surely, Pärt would too, as he was a very humble and heartfelt man.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Aw, thank you. Truly, credit goes to Pärt here, I did nothing but synthesise a fragment of his work, and even then, there are many better synthesis of his work hovering around, by true musical professionals instead of poetic writers.
      I’ve been good, my production is slowly decreasing because I’ve since started working somewhere else and it is tiring. Work, as it is, can be a very rich experience no matter the field, but one may not argue its weariness, especially when you work on bottom sectors and rural places, like I do.

      But soon, I’d hope to pick up the pace again, especially with Prostagma. Its been really fun writing an epic.

      What about you?

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Für Alina has been one of my favorite pieces after I first discovered Arvo Pärt in the late 90’s. Hearing this piece again reminds me of a quote I have always loved – Moments of ………. silence … are part ….. of ……………….. the …. music …

    Liked by 1 person

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