Justin Appel

Dear Friends,

We are halfway through the last full week in Lent, and it seems fitting that the lectionary contains Psalm 130, the De profundis.

This psalm seems to contain a clear upward movement, as the psalmist cries out in distress, comes to terms with his sinfulness, moves to a posture of expectation, and concludes with confidence in God’s mercy.

Arvo Pärt’s setting of the De profundis closely mimics this shape, beginning with the lowest basses and slowly building up to two voices, then three. Finally the full male chorus sings in four parts, achieving the full qualities of a collective wail.

What I find interesting about Pärt’s setting is his simple design and its final effect. In the first case, the notes do not move randomly, nor do they simply move upward. Rather, the upward and sometimes cyclical movements of the melodic material follow the syllables of the text precisely. As such the work becomes more than a simple illustration of the text, but rather a ‘translation’ of the text — a notion which the composer intends, and which has been expounded upon by the theologian Peter Bouteneff.

In addition to outlining the text, Pärt applies a technique that sets these texted melodies against (think of the word counterpoint) stable chord tones (notes which outline a simple triad). The result in the De profundis is a undulating, hesitating, upward gesture that occasionally sounds desolate, expectant, and occasionally hopeful — even, puzzlingly, all three at once.

Interspersing this rising wail are the organ’s sparse tones and the periodic boom of the tam tam. Less frequently, a tubular bell punctuates the languid procession, bringing to mind the impermanence of life.

Yours in Christ,
Justin

(Click on the link below to hear The Sixteen sing Pärt’s De Profundis.)