Henryk Górecki

I was pretty bummed to hear of Górecki's passing today.

Courtney and I first encountered Górecki's popular third symphony in her second (I think) year at Boston University; the BU symphonic orchestra was performing the third paired with Bartok's Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celeste, and possibly along with Stravinsky's Symphony of Winds. We went primarily for the Bartok (and the Stravinsky, if it was really on the program; that sounds like a rather long program, but I remember that it really kicked a lot of ass so it's possible that they did indeed do all that together).

I recall being pretty captivated by the Górecki. But I was emotionally invested in the Bartok and stored up my energy and focus for that. When it got to the Górecki, I was tired and couldn't focus much more. That's how it typically works for me: save the mental energy for the piece I care most about, and let whatever wants to happen happen on the others. Often that means I space out or sleep through the pieces I'm not there to absorb. But the Górecki is pretty captivating stuff, and while I won't claim that I was immediately sucked in and energized or whatever (after all, the Bartok performance was quite engaging and I just didn't have it in me to care any more), the piece was nevertheless provocative enough to prevent me from falling immediately asleep.

All of which sounds insulting to the piece, which is not how it's intended. I seriously slept through large portions of concerts on a regular basis at that time; I was always overtired, and as much as I loved (and love) music I just couldn't fight the need for sleep, and concert halls filled with beautiful music make for a marvelous bedroom. Just ask Stravinsky regarding Schubert. In any case, I was all prepared to settle in and pass out for the next 45 minutes, and instead I had a reaction of "hey, what's this all about?!"

Since then it's become one of those special musical jewels that I really adore. I don't listen to it all the time. It's not necessary. It fills a special place that only needs to be visited once and while. The third movement in particular is so astonishingly beautiful and expressive, and it embodies (for me) what music is all about. When words fail us, music is there. The deepest aspects of our emotional lives are too rich to express verbally. That third movement gently rocks you with love while it breaks your heart.

Farewell, Górecki. Thank you for the sorrowful songs.