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THE PERFECT STORM A Look Back at Henryk Górecki’s Third Symphony BY PAT MCGUIRE The music is quite simple, really. Double basses build slowly, sawing their lonely, somber voices, over and over and over. Joined by strings, clarinets, quiet horns—a modest orchestra—a woman’s voice, a high soprano in a language indecipherable to most, carves out a soft, beautiful sadness. It builds, and builds, and falls, and disappears. The whole thing lasts just under an hour, and then it’s gone. The music is simple. The hard part is trying to figure out how it became one of the highest-selling pieces of classical music ever, how it influenced countless musicians of all kinds and genres, how it resonated with so many millions of people in so many different, distant lands, and how this “Symphony No. 3, The Symphony of Sorrowful Songs” became one of the most popular classical pieces of all time—and also how, despite all of its success, the man who created it remains largely unknown. Henryk Mikołaj Górecki (pronounced “Gore-et-ski”) was born in southwestern Poland in 1933. He studied at the State Higher School of Music in Katowice, eventually joining the faculty as a professor and then director. He was a promising composer early and found success in the popular modernist avant-garde style that was sweeping the nation’s interest in the ’50s and ’60s. A fiery and devoted person—to the Catholic church, to his family, to his work—he was, as David Harrington of Kronos Quartet remembers, “a part of the handmade tradition”; Górecki wrote his music precisely and beautifully by hand, listened almost exclusively to classical music (paying no heed to popular styles, especially rock and roll), rarely left his home in the Tatra Mountains of Zakopane and even built furniture as a hobby. He was jovial, animated, a philosophical teacher and passionate friend. He was also exceedingly blunt, fiercely opinionated, melancholy and private. Illness plagued him for much of his life. His mood could change with the wind, and he would develop a reputation for being quite temperamental and highly—almost violently—critical of performances of his own work. After enjoying moderate success with dissonant, modern compositions, suddenly, in the early ’70s, Górecki began to change his style. He started writing in spiritual minimalism, often hearkening back to and even drawing text from folk music and ideals, filling his work with simple, precise repetition and deep emotion. The Polish avant-garde establishment, enamored with modern composers like Penderecki, Kilar and Lutosławski, began to discredit Górecki as a figure of circumstance. In 1976 he composed his Symphony No. 3, The Symphony of Sorrowful Songs, a contemplative, slow-building piece in three movements. Built from different Polish religious texts—the first a 15 th -century lament, the second a prayer written by an 18-year-old girl on the wall of a Gestapo cell in Zakopane, the third a folk song— the symphony translated the sorrow of mother and child eternally separated by war. The music—simple, minimal yet profound—focused more on feeling than virtuosity. The Third Symphony premiered in France in 1977 and was greeted largely with uncertainty; due to an argument with the conductor, Górecki himself did not attend the performance. Polish critics complained that the work wasn’t true to Górecki’s form, that it was a compromise of style. Outside of Poland, the piece was largely forgotten. In the years that followed, Górecki continued to write music but was plagued by health troubles and withdrew from public life. Having left his post at the Katowice Music Academy due to his opposition of Communist representation, and with the political climate of Poland making it difficult to travel, he sought new representation and distribution of his work in a global market. He signed with the world’s largest international music publisher, Boosey & Hawkes (represented in Poland by PWM Edition), and soon his work began to see new light— well, one work in particular. In 1992, 15 years after it was completed, Nonesuch Records of New York released a new recording of Górecki’s Third Symphony, featuring the London Sinfonietta, conductor David Zinman and the soprano Dawn Upshaw. The compact disc, adorned with Górecki’s name placed prominently over a mournful, monochrome photograph of a maiden at prayer, hit the market with a strong push from radio (a Classic FM deejay in the U.K. took to playing the same part of the Symphony every Saturday morning) and little else. And suddenly, without any real indication or explanation, it was a hit. There had been previous recordings of the Third Symphony, but the work was known mostly to Polish connoisseurs. The Nonesuch release sold over 700,000 copies in its first two years. Like the work itself, it was a slow build, but unlike Górecki’s music, the sales never stopped; it would eventually sell over one million copies worldwide, even climbing to Number Six on the mainstream U.K. album charts. The reasons for such an amazing success out of nowhere defied explanation. Perhaps it was the current musical climate— instrumental pop crossover artists like Enya and Enigma were enjoying success, as was the Estonian sacred music composer Arvo Pärt, and the Benedictine Monks’ Gregorian Chant album was rapidly selling its six million copies. The Third Symphony appeared in films; Peter Weir used it to soundtrack a plane crash in his 1993 movie Fearless, and the piece featured in Julian Schnabel’s Basquiat in 1996 as well. Perhaps some of the work’s success was due simply to the phenomenally popular advent of the compact disc, which allowed it to reach a new audience as copies flew off shelves in shopping malls and chain stores. Another possible scenario is that the public was becoming more aware of European and world music through following world events, such as the fall of Communism in Poland in 1989. The one thing that was undeniable was that Górecki’s music had suddenly found an audience; by using a minimal style hearkening back to these simple, universal themes, the response to his repetitive, dense work was emotional, resonant and entirely personal. As Dawn Upshaw herself told the Boston Globe in 1993, “None of us expected anything like this. We all knew it was an affecting and effective piece, but none of us could have imagined what kind of audience it would interest. The music is very accessible, and our recording arrived at a timely moment…the world is changing: Americans are becoming more involved with what is happening in other countries and more aware of history, of what has happened and what is happening again.” While the unexpected success of The Symphony of Sorrowful Songs may have changed the perception of Górecki around the world, he did not allow it to change his life. Such acclaim may have improved his conditions, and perhaps even his outlook, but still—minus a few trips to America and other regions for special concerts and events—he remained in Poland, building his home in Zakopane and continuing to work. He became a grandfather, he handcrafted elaborate armchairs, he completed several more influential pieces of music, including three string quartets commissioned and made famous by Kronos Quartet. In the fall of 2010, after a long illness, Górecki died at the age of 76. In hopes of better understanding the man whose music created this perfect storm of musical brilliance, success and recognition, I traveled to Poland to meet with Górecki’s colleagues, students and friends, as well as musicians, journalists and experts from the Polish classical scene. What I learned was surprising, inspiring and hard to comprehend. How could a man who hated pop music be so influential and inspirational to pop musicians? How could a bar full of young patrons in Krakow, 40 miles from Górecki’s home, reveal that they had mostly never heard Górecki’s name, let alone his music? How could the Third Symphony suddenly be so popular everywhere in the world except in the country in which it was created? As Górecki himself said of his Symphony No. 3, “Perhaps people find something they need in this piece of music... somehow I hit the right note, something they were missing. Something, somewhere, had been lost to them. I feel that I instinctively knew what they needed.” In a small cemetery in the middle of urban Katowice, I went to pay respects to the man and his work, leaving a lit candle on his grave as is Polish tradition. Here, too then, we pay respect to the life of Henryk Mikołaj Górecki and his Third Symphony, through the words of those who knew him and his work best. GERTRUDE KÄSEBIER/THE J. PAUL GETTY MUSEUM, LOS ANGELES

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The PerfecT STormA Look Back at Henryk Górecki’s Third Symphony By PaT mcGuire

The music is quite simple, really. Double basses build slowly, sawing their lonely, somber voices, over and over and over. Joined by strings, clarinets, quiet horns—a modest orchestra—a woman’s voice, a high soprano in a language indecipherable to most, carves out a soft, beautiful sadness. It builds, and builds, and falls, and disappears. The whole thing lasts just under an hour, and then it’s gone.

The music is simple. The hard part is trying to figure out how it became one of the highest-selling pieces of classical music ever, how it influenced countless musicians of all kinds and genres, how it resonated with so many millions of people in so many different, distant lands, and how this “Symphony No. 3, The Symphony of Sorrowful Songs” became one of the most popular classical pieces of all time—and also how, despite all of its success, the man who created it remains largely unknown.

Henryk Mikołaj Górecki (pronounced “Gore-et-ski”) was born in southwestern Poland in 1933. He studied at the State Higher School of Music in Katowice, eventually joining the faculty as a professor and then director. He was a promising composer early and found success in the popular modernist avant-garde style that was sweeping the nation’s interest in the ’50s and ’60s. A fiery and devoted person—to the Catholic church, to his family, to his work—he was, as David Harrington of Kronos Quartet remembers, “a part of the handmade tradition”; Górecki wrote his music precisely and beautifully by hand, listened almost exclusively to classical music (paying no heed to popular styles, especially rock and roll), rarely left his home in the Tatra Mountains of Zakopane and even built furniture as a hobby. He was jovial, animated, a philosophical teacher and passionate friend. He was also exceedingly blunt, fiercely opinionated, melancholy and private. Illness plagued him for much of his life. His mood could change with the wind, and he would develop a reputation for being quite temperamental and highly—almost violently—critical of performances of his own work.

After enjoying moderate success with dissonant, modern compositions, suddenly, in the early ’70s, Górecki began to change his style. He started writing in spiritual minimalism, often hearkening

back to and even drawing text from folk music and ideals, filling his work with simple, precise repetition and deep emotion. The Polish avant-garde establishment, enamored with modern composers like Penderecki, Kilar and Lutosławski, began to discredit Górecki as a figure of circumstance. In 1976 he composed his Symphony No. 3, The Symphony of Sorrowful Songs, a contemplative, slow-building piece in three movements. Built from different Polish religious texts—the first a 15th-century lament, the second a prayer written by an 18-year-old girl on the wall of a Gestapo cell in Zakopane, the third a folk song—the symphony translated the sorrow of mother and child eternally separated by war. The music—simple, minimal yet profound—focused more on feeling than virtuosity. The Third Symphony premiered in France in 1977 and was greeted largely with uncertainty; due to an argument with the conductor, Górecki himself did not attend the performance. Polish critics complained that the work wasn’t true to Górecki’s form, that it was a compromise of style. Outside of Poland, the piece was largely forgotten.

In the years that followed, Górecki continued to write music but was plagued by health troubles and withdrew from public life. Having left his post at the Katowice Music Academy due to his opposition of Communist representation, and with the political climate of Poland making it difficult to travel, he sought new representation and distribution of his work in a global market. He signed with the world’s largest international music publisher, Boosey & Hawkes (represented in Poland by PWM Edition), and soon his work began to see new light—well, one work in particular.

In 1992, 15 years after it was completed, Nonesuch Records of New York released a new recording of Górecki’s Third Symphony, featuring the London Sinfonietta, conductor David Zinman and the soprano Dawn Upshaw. The compact disc, adorned with Górecki’s name placed prominently over a mournful, monochrome photograph of a maiden at prayer, hit the market with a strong push from radio (a Classic FM deejay in the U.K. took to playing the same part of the Symphony every Saturday morning) and little else. And suddenly, without any real indication or explanation, it was a hit.

There had been previous recordings of the Third Symphony, but the work was known mostly to Polish connoisseurs. The Nonesuch release sold over 700,000 copies in its first two years. Like the work itself, it was a slow build, but unlike Górecki’s music, the sales never stopped; it would eventually sell over one million copies worldwide, even climbing to Number Six on the mainstream U.K. album charts. The reasons for such an amazing success out of nowhere defied explanation. Perhaps it was the current musical climate—instrumental pop crossover artists like Enya and Enigma were enjoying success, as was the Estonian sacred music composer Arvo Pärt, and the Benedictine Monks’ Gregorian Chant album was rapidly selling its six million copies. The Third Symphony appeared in films; Peter Weir used it to soundtrack a plane crash in his 1993 movie Fearless, and the piece featured in Julian

Schnabel’s Basquiat in 1996 as well. Perhaps some of the work’s success was due simply to the phenomenally popular advent of the compact disc, which allowed it to reach a new audience as copies flew off shelves in shopping malls and chain stores. Another possible scenario is that the public was becoming more aware of European and world music through following world events, such as the fall of Communism in Poland in 1989.

The one thing that was undeniable was that Górecki’s music had suddenly found an audience; by using a minimal style hearkening back to these simple, universal themes, the response to his repetitive, dense work was emotional, resonant and entirely personal. As Dawn Upshaw herself told the Boston Globe in 1993, “None of us expected anything like this. We all knew it was an affecting and effective piece, but none of us could have imagined what kind of audience it would interest. The music is very accessible, and our recording arrived at a timely moment…the world is changing: Americans are becoming more involved with what is happening in other countries and more aware of history, of what has happened and what is happening again.”

While the unexpected success of The Symphony of Sorrowful Songs may have changed the perception of Górecki around the world, he did not allow it to change his life. Such acclaim may have improved his conditions, and perhaps even his outlook, but still—minus a few trips to America and other regions for special concerts and events—he remained in Poland, building his home in Zakopane and continuing to work. He became a grandfather, he handcrafted elaborate armchairs, he completed several more influential pieces of music, including three string quartets commissioned and made famous by Kronos Quartet. In the fall of 2010, after a long illness, Górecki died at the age of 76.

In hopes of better understanding the man whose music created this perfect storm of musical brilliance, success and recognition, I traveled to Poland to meet with Górecki’s colleagues, students and friends, as well as musicians, journalists and experts from the Polish classical scene. What I learned was surprising, inspiring and hard to comprehend. How could a man who hated pop music be so influential and inspirational to pop musicians? How could a bar full of young patrons in Krakow, 40 miles from Górecki’s home, reveal that they had mostly never heard Górecki’s name, let alone his music? How could the Third Symphony suddenly be so popular everywhere in the world except in the country in which it was created?

As Górecki himself said of his Symphony No. 3, “Perhaps people find something they need in this piece of music...somehow I hit the right note, something they were missing. Something, somewhere, had been lost to them. I feel that I instinctively knew what they needed.” In a small cemetery in the middle of urban Katowice, I went to pay respects to the man and his work, leaving a lit candle on his grave as is Polish tradition. Here, too then, we pay respect to the life of Henryk Mikołaj Górecki and his Third Symphony, through the words of those who knew him and his work best.

GERTRUDE KÄSEBIER/THE J. PAUL GETTY MUSEUM, LOS ANGELES

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ANDRZEJ KOSOWSKIGórecki’s Music Publisher in PolandAndrzej Kosowski is the editor-in-chief of PWM Edition in Warsaw, the Polish publisher of Górecki’s music. He and Górecki worked together for 15 years.

Why do you think the Third Symphony was so universally

appreciated?

This question is actually unanswered. It’s kind of a mystery for

us why this work was so successful. And what is even more

important is why success came after so many years from the

time it was written. When you go back and look at the review

published after its first performance, you find that this work

was not named immediately as the masterpiece. At those

times, Górecki was just one of several contemporary Polish

composers; he was appreciated, especially in Poland, but no one

probably would name him Number One. The Third Symphony

was very popular in Poland, but there were a lot people who

didn’t like it at all. They thought, “It isn’t avant-garde music, it’s

not very contemporary.” It wasn’t a huge success.

So when did Górecki begin to find success outside Poland?

Górecki was looking for a foreign publisher who could help him

with the promotions of his works outside of Poland; remember

that until 1989 it wasn’t very easy to be a promoter here because

[Polish people] faced problems with traveling and also because

of financial reasons. When Górecki made his contract with

Boosey & Hawkes, they did promotion worldwide of his works.

The Third Symphony had been published earlier by a few other

publishers but they were not as successful as Boosey. But why

was this music, written to Polish texts, so appreciated in the

United States—people probably couldn’t understand a word.

There is something very intensive which brings people to his

music. And then all eyes turned on his earlier works and people

realized he was a member of a group of young Polish composers

in the ’60s and ’70s who used to write very avant-garde music.

The first change in his musical style came when he

was [challenged] by the former director of PWM, Tadeusz

Olechowski, who liked Baroque and Polish Renaissance

music and wasn’t very familiar with the contemporary. He

was very unhappy about the style Górecki was using and

told him, “You just write avant-garde music but you can’t

even write a simple, nice melody.” So Górecki reoriented his

view and he wrote a short piece for string orchestra called

“Three Pieces in Old Style,” which showed his ability to write

melodies and nice, classical harmonies. And it was a time

when people in Poland were a little bit fed up with all these

avant-garde ideas. It was the first moment when Górecki

thought, “If I write this music in old style but using also new

ideas, I can still get my audience.” So probably the Third

Symphony was when he became convinced of that.

How did the success of the Third Symphony change him?

After this huge international success, he became quite

quiet. Everyone wanted to listen to his music and to place

a commission, and he didn’t feel well about this because he

wasn’t prepared for this huge success. He was named as the

greatest living composer and then all the labels wanted to

record his Third Symphony; foreign publishers wanted him to

make contracts with them; he became rich. So then he followed

his dream of having a nice house near Zakopane; frankly, he

spent a lot of time to finish it and making his own furniture. It

gave him a lot of fun.

I was a frequent guest at his house and knew him very well.

He used to come to our office with his scrolls, handwritings,

new works…and problems. Górecki didn’t speak English

very well, his foreign language was German. He didn’t like to

travel; he had problems with his leg and for him it was very

difficult to spend hours in flight and then be fresh and clever

with journalists and meetings. He found his place on Earth in

Zakopane and it was difficult to convince him to travel; it had to

be something really important, like a concert.

What was his demeanor? Was he happy?

He liked jokes very much. Sometimes he was quite bitter. Was

it because of his illness or because of people trying to approach

him every day? He didn’t use computers; he liked to be cut

off from the real world. He was very strict on his music and

especially on the role of the artist. He was a romantic with

all these ideas about humanism, love and art. He was always

telling us, “I feel I have something to do with my life and it’s

not only important for me but important for people for whom

I write my music.” He was very angry about the surrounding

of contemporary life. He kept saying that we watch too much

television, pop music can destroy our lives, there are too

many dangerous things around us. He was very afraid for his

grandchildren because he thought there are so many traps

around them.

Did that anger come through in his work at all?

No, I think it came through his words or behavior. It was

very easy to get him irritated. A lot of journalists wanted to

interview him, and his answer would be, “No way. I have

no time. I’ll never do that.” And then when we were a little

more insisting, it had to be a good occasion, a special visit. In

the beginning he was very cold and didn’t want to speak too

much. When I led the first public meeting with him I started

asking simple questions like, “How do you find the success of

your Third Symphony?” He said, “I never look back. I do it

only when I drive my car.” When I asked about his new piece,

he would answer, “It’s just a new piece. We will listen to it.

You have to make your own opinion.” It was very difficult to

catch any emotion with him. He liked to exchange different

opinions; the problem was you had to wait. The first hour was

usually wasted; if you had enough time, you could have real

speech after the second hour.

That’s somehow appropriate, considering the Third’s

slow build. Was Górecki aware that pop musicians

appreciated and respected his work?

Honestly, I don’t think so. Even if he was given any recordings,

he probably wouldn’t listen because he was very much against

pop music. He was very strict on all the arrangements, not only

DJ arrangements and pop arrangements but he was also very

aware of using his music for film and stage works. He used to

say, “When I write something for the orchestra, I want to get

performances with the orchestra. Not by any other musicians.”

Why did it take so long for the Third to resonate with the

public?

I think his music is very honest. There are no tricks in it. It’s

powerful but it doesn’t catch you immediately. You have to

listen to it again, and a third time, and so on. The success was

based on this; a classical radio station was repeating the Third

Symphony every Saturday in the U.K. By coming back to the

same issue, to the same ideas, you’re able to appreciate this. He

kept saying, “When I like something, I like to get it repeated.”

So you can easily find it in his music, too.

ANDREW BIRDAndrew Bird is a classically trained American songwriter and multi-instrumentalist. He sings, whistles, plays violin, glockenspiel and guitar, often looping these elements together in live performance. His last album, Useless Creatures, was released on Nonesuch Records last fall.

I first heard Górecki’s Third in my early 20s when I was in music

school. Compared with a lot of contemporary music, it was less

conceptual and very moving without having to understand why.

Music school will teach one to be suspicious of music that is too

enjoyable. Sometimes I would catch myself doubting it, as one

would a novel that is too quick and entertaining, but then you

realize that’s nonsense—if it sounds good to you, it’s good. It’s

just a badass piece of music and there’s a good reason why we’re

talking about this piece in a popular music magazine. It has a

similar effect on an open-minded listener that [Radiohead’s] Kid

A has. It spoke to my youthful romantic tendencies, sure, but still

holds up 15 years later.

For a piece to hold a mass audience’s attention with

such a slow build—the first few minutes are barely audible—

the elements have to be really strong. There’s really not that

much going on, just these double basses playing a super low

repetitive line and then these beams of sound using harp or

piano for the attack, and then strings for the sustain. Then

Dawn Upshaw’s voice, which really works so well. It’s as

if Górecki unlearned just enough of the Western tradition,

taking it back to before the Industrial Revolution and so much

ornamentation.

One of my first compositions I wrote for my sister’s

wedding when I was about 20 and that was probably very

influenced by Górecki’s Third; it was full of these stark

intervals. Later on when I started making loops with the violin,

I tried to create that same static effect or have the ambient loop

make the tree outside my window look different or the thunder

cloud rolling through the valley seem especially strange and

pregnant. I’ve never performed Górecki�s music as he wrote

it but have sought the effect it has. In the song “Armchairs,” I

tried to create that same beam of sound with glockenspiel and

a single note loop.

Górecki came along at a good time. I’m glad

Stravinsky, Schoenberg, Cage and Stockhausen tore

down the classical architecture but contemporary

music had gone into a self-gratifying academic world

of colleagues trying to impress one another rather than

move an audience. Górecki’s Third is a hit start to finish.

It makes you feel something without feeling like you’re

being played. It affects what I’m seeing. It tends to make

everything slow down. Your eyes draw back into your

head and you aren’t focusing on any one thing. It has a

sort of static intensity—romantic but clean.

DAVID HARRINGTON Of KRONOS QUARTET

David Harrington is the leader of Kronos Quartet, the world’s most popular string quartet. Górecki wrote three pieces for Kronos; he and Harrington were friends for over 20 years.

My friend David Huntley from Boosey & Hawkes, Górecki’s

publisher, sent me a cassette tape of a Polish recording of the

Third Symphony in 1986. David and I were very close friends and

we shared special music; he felt like this was something that had

to be a part of my life. I could not even believe it when I heard it.

Immediately I called him and said, “This man has got to write

for Kronos.” The next day I called David Drew in London who

also worked with Boosey & Hawkes, but Drew knew Henryk

personally and had been sort of his assistant. Drew told me he

would call Henryk immediately, and within a day or so Henryk

had agreed to write a new piece for Kronos.

A few months later we were in Cologne, Germany, with the

manuscript for the First String Quartet and we rehearsed with

Henryk, who had come from Poland. It was an unforgettable

rehearsal because when things weren’t loud or soft enough,

Henryk went over to the piano and I literally thought he was

going to break it. The fortissimos were so loud and the softs were

so soft. The contrast he wanted in his music was just incredible.

Rehearsing with him was always such an amazingly high

experience because you felt like he was involved in the center

of the sound, the essence. He was continually trying to pull that

essence out into reality. I’ve never felt closer to, say, someone

like Beethoven than I did when I was rehearsing with Henryk

Górecki. Just the essence of European string quartet music, you

just felt this presence, this incredible tradition that had been

handed down and crafted by so many fantastic musicians.

It seemed to me that he was reaching for something with the

Third Symphony that really only music can express and that’s

probably why words fail me at this point. I wasn’t expecting that

music to come from what I knew of Polish music at that time. It

was so different than anything else I’d heard. It felt timeless but

also incredibly timely. For my own exploration of the world of

music, it arrived at exactly the right moment.

I respond to music totally by instinct and by magnetism. I feel

that’s the way everyone responds. If something grabs you—if there’s

a rhythm, a harmony, a melody—it enters your consciousness and

becomes a part of your life and you just want to hold it and keep it

there. That’s the kind of music I’m looking for every day and that’s

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what happened when I heard the Third Symphony. It felt like

this human treasure that had been unearthed by this man named

Górecki whom I’d never heard of at that point.

It’s hard to calculate the way music works and its

timeliness. It’s very hard to know why the Third was so

popular. Let’s face it, music is mysterious. I don’t feel like I

know any more about it than the next person. I remember

reading something Henryk said near the end of his life: “I hope

one day I understand how music works.” That’s the way he

was. He knew what he wanted in his own music, but I think,

like for the rest of us, it was mysterious.

I always felt totally connected to him. There were always

translators, but I think he felt that way about Kronos, too. It

was a real closeness. I remember him saying once he didn’t

understand it either; this American group from California came

into his life and he really didn’t know how it happened. He just

trusted it. He was very vivid and you felt this immense spiritual

power—this energy. I think the first concert Henryk heard of

ours, we played “Purple Haze” as an encore really, really loud.

Henryk said to me, “I want my music to be that loud.”

My understanding is that he wrote at a piano. His

manuscripts were very, very neat—by the time we got a score

it was beautifully handwritten. It’s very rare these days for

composers to have handwritten manuscripts; in that sense,

Górecki seemed very much a part of the handmade tradition.

I was in Poland for a concert the day he died. We ended

up playing one of his songs as our tribute to him that day; it’s

the best we could do under the circumstances. It was tough but

it was tough for the whole country. There’s so many things I

hoped we could have done together. He wanted to take Kronos

on a tour of Auschwitz in 1996. At the last minute he couldn’t do

it; I don’t know if it was his health or emotional reasons.

I think the power of his music just stepped across any

boundaries in listening and the experience of music in such a

natural way. And when you met him you knew why: because

of the vividness of his personality, his love of people, life, food,

stories and tradition of the folk music of that area of Poland and

European classical music. So much entered his work. When

I think about him I hear his voice, I see his smile, I see him

demonstrating air violin. His body language was amazing. He

would sing and there would be this kind of grinding sound when

he wanted us to play louder than we could possible play; and

when it was softer than any instrument can play, it was so quiet.

Somehow the focus Górecki had was so beautiful; anytime I

ever met him he was always on. He might have been sick the week

before or in the hospital, and then you’d meet him and he was so

alive and vivid. I miss him every day. He was a very great man.

BOB HURWITZ Of NONESUCH RECORDS

Bob Hurwitz is the president of Nonesuch Records. The Nonesuch recording of Górecki’s Third Symphony in 1992 has sold over a million copies worldwide.

David Huntley, classical music publisher Boosey and Hawkes’

remarkable New York director, first told me about the piece in

the late ’80s and gave me a wonderful recording made in Poland

by Stefania Woytowicz. I was drawn to the piece immediately

but thought this was a perfectly fine recording and simply

wished we had done it first; I had no interest to make another

recording of the piece.

In April 1989, I flew over to London for a London Sinfonietta

weekend festival of the music of Schnittke and Górecki, both of

whom I was quite interested in. It was an amazing weekend—I

heard Górecki’s Lerchenmusik, which we ended up recording,

some terrific pieces of Schnittke’s, and then heard the Third

Symphony live for the first time. I found it overwhelming.

The Woytowicz recording I had heard was more operatic; but

Margaret Field, who performed it in London that night, sang in

a style with much less vibrato and a tone that seemed to fit the

music in a more organic way. Minutes into the performance, I

thought: this would be perfect for Dawn Upshaw.

Once the record came out, it had a life of its own. When we

were finished, I thought silently to myself, “It’s really wonderful,

better than my already very high expectations, and maybe we’ll

be lucky over the next 10 years and sell 50,000,” which would have

been a phenomenal amount for any piece of new music, especially

by a totally unknown composer. This has happened to us many

times before and since; our expectations have been confounded

after the fact, which to me says that there is always an audience that

hungers for the things we hunger for.

I saw Górecki a half dozen times after that; he was always

extraordinarily warm and kind. We went to see Balanchine at

City Ballet, we had dinners, he came for a playback of a recording

of the Goldberg Variations we had made with Dema Sitkovetsky,

and we last met in California in [1997], when he was persuaded to

come work with students for a week at USC. He told me of at least

a half-dozen major pieces he was working on: a violin concerto,

a string quartet (since finished for the Kronos Quartet), a Fourth

Symphony. I would have never imagined it would be the last time

we would meet.

EUGENIUSZ KNAPIK + ARKADIUSZ KUBICA

Górecki’s Friends and Former StudentsEugeniusz Knapik and Arkadiusz Kubica were friends and students of Górecki at the Katowice Academy of Music. Knapik is a pianist, composer and professor at the Academy, and studied under Górecki during the composition of the Third Symphony. Kubica is a violinist in the Silesian String Quartet and also teaches. The two sat down to be interviewed through a translator in the main hall of the Academy in Katowice.

How did Górecki feel about completing his Third

Symphony?

Eugeniusz Knapik: Górecki said, “I just wrote the symphony

that never was written before. I took the source of the folk music

that’s never happened before.” He felt that the message wouldn’t

be understood by a popular audience. He never expected it.

And he was right. The first premiere wasn’t successful; there

were so many criticisms about it that Górecki was wrong, even

from professional journalists. Even after more success they still

complained and thought it was compromised, that it wasn’t really

his mind state; they thought it was a bit pop and a bit classical.

When it started becoming successful, he was shocked. He

had starting working on other things, looking for some new

impulses to push him to create something new and different.

It was hard times for him during those 15 years; he had created

only one important work. He got sick; he had to focus on his

problems. When the Third became popular, he became more

spontaneous, open minded, he laughed often and started to

compose other things. It was an impulse for him, people started

to appreciate his work so it made him happy.

Did he look back on the Third as a highlight of his career?

Knapik: He never spoke of it. Never. He appreciated other

works he had written more than the Third Symphony.

Did its success ever become a burden for him?

Arkadiusz Kubica: One of my last conversations with him was

over the phone last spring. Someone from Argentina wanted to

present Górecki with an honorary degree. He was ill, but we

spoke. He asked me, “Do you know what are the worst words in

the Polish language?” I was surprised; I said, “Sorry, Professor,

I don’t know.” He said, “‘Too late.’” He was right; his success

was a little bit too late. If it came 10 or 20 years earlier, it would

have changed his life so much more. It was a very hard time in

Poland in the ’70s and ’80s; it was a completely different place.

Knapik: One journalist asked him, “How you are feeling with

being so famous, the success of your symphony, top of the

charts, money?” And Górecki said, “I don’t care. Let’s talk about

music. That’s the most important.” Music for Górecki was most

important—not prizes, not money. He was a very straight person.

How do you remember him as a friend and teacher?

Knapik: He was like his music: it’s hard to find the same

person anywhere in the world. He could be really polite or

really distant. There were moments when he was a comrade,

a guy who could drink vodka and discuss things, and the next

day he was distant, quiet, focused on totally different things. He

always said what he thought. He never tried to cover it in the

proper way or try to be polite describing something; if he didn’t

like it, he’d say he didn’t like it. Simple.

Do you remember the first time you met?

Knapik: First meeting was there on the first floor [points] when

I became a student. I felt that he was a warm person and we

became friends quite fast, we had chemistry really quickly.

Kubica: My first meeting was when we prepared his 50th birthday,

a concert for the National Symphony Orchestra; we played two of

his compositions. He was very emotional, I remember him like an

old man with a cane because he had a problem with his hip. That

orchestra played his “Three Pieces in Old Style,” and he shook the

cane and he didn’t like the director. He was so angry that he left

while the orchestra was playing his music and he couldn’t stand it

and he left the venue and slammed the door loudly.

Knapik: He did that many times. Before the premiere of

the Third Symphony he argued with the conductor and the

soloist so badly that he stayed in the hotel, he didn’t see the

performance. He was so mad at the conductor. He was so tense,

he expected disaster. They came to the hotel and explained

to him that it was okay, relax, but the conductor never got

allowance from Górecki to conduct his music again.

Did Górecki ever get mad at you?

Knapik: Many times. [Laughs] But for a really short time. We

argued, but we got over it quickly.

What was the most important thing he taught you?

Knapik: When I was a student, Górecki talked for a long time

with me, not only about music but also about life, about what’s

important in art. When you are young, it’s hard to find your own

way, and Górecki helped me find my right way in composing

and feeling the music. He was like a lighthouse, a guide, to help

me discover the right things.

BUCK 65Buck 65 is a hip-hop artist from Nova Scotia, Canada. His song “Old-Time Stuff ” contains a sample from the Third Symphony. He has performed it live with the Symphony Nova Scotia, and also performed it in tribute at a rock festival in Switzerland on the night of Górecki’s death.

I remember the first time I heard Symphony No. 3 quite clearly.

It was in the bedroom of my friend Luna in Brussels. It took a

long time for it to find me. This was in 2003. It just seemed very

powerful. Even when it was very quiet and delicate, it wielded

an almost terrifying power. Of course, it’s very sad, too.

His work seems to speak to me somehow. My mother died

when I was 27 and the Symphony of Sorrowful Songs speaks to

that loss for me. I think he hits a nerve for people. The sentiment

in his work feels more thinly veiled than a lot of other stuff I

know. He opens a door to a room with a strong mood, but with MA

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lots of room for the imagination to wander. It doesn’t feel like it’s

all explicitly spelled out. I’ve only twice had the experience of

being moved to tears by a performance of live music and once

was by a performance of his work.

I remember reading about his death on a news website first

thing when I woke up that day. A weird stillness came over me. I

knew right away that I would want to pay tribute to him that night.

I got the sense that a few people in the audience appreciated it and

were hearing the news from me. I had a very real moment on stage. I

was feeling something strong. A lot came out of me. So, even if people

didn’t quite get where I was coming from, I think they appreciated

the weight of my performance. I have done that performance a few

times since and the meaning of the song has changed for me. It feels

heavier somehow, like its universe has expanded. This may sound

pretentious or absurd, but somehow it feels bigger than me when I

perform it. I don’t know how to explain it.

His work was a big influence on a song of mine called “She

Said Yes.” He had what I think of as “quiet power” and I’ve tried

to tap into that. You can knock someone over with a big bang, but

it’s even more impressive to bring someone to their knees with a

whisper. It’s not easy to do, but I’ve tried. And Górecki inspired

that. I have had daydreams that he would have loved what I

do, but realistically, I imagine he would have hated it. Maybe

he would have appreciated the avant-garde nature of some of

my stuff. I think he opened my eyes to the idea of combining

elements of folklore and even folk music to classical elements.

He left us with an incredible body of work that gives us a

lot to analyze and ponder. But most importantly, there’s a feeling

we get from a work like the Third Symphony and it’s a feeling

that lasts. That’s the highest artistic achievement, I think. I feel

grateful to him for keeping a line open between me and a way I

need to feel from time to time. He enriched my life in a personally

meaningful way. I think many people feel alienated by a lot of

contemporary classical music but when you play Górecki for

them they usually come around. And I think that’s because they

feel something real when they listen to him. And I think the

minimalism of it allows us to personalize it easily.

MAREK ZEBROWSKIPolish Music Center, Los AngelesMarek Zebrowski is an acclaimed pianist and composer and is the director of Polish Music Center at the University of Southern California. Górecki came to Los Angeles for a special performance and residency in 1997.

Górecki’s Third Symphony was first performed at a festival in

France in 1977; it was commissioned by a German broadcaster.

The work received that single premiere and vanished off the radar

for many years. By the time Nonesuch made a CD of it in 1992, the

musical landscape changed in favor of the new, more accessible

musical language that Górecki had pioneered. The amusing

note, which I know from someone who was an associate on that

recording, was that the work was considered so obscure that the

soloist Dawn Upshaw decided to take her honorarium for the

recording and opt out of royalties that would’ve come with sales

of the album—which skyrocketed for months on classical and

popular music charts and was the world’s bestselling recording

for a year or two if not longer. That simply tells you that when

the CD was commercially released, even the performers were

doubtful that it would be a huge commercial success.

For some reason it hit the mood of the public in a truly

unprecedented way. When you think of it—that the text is in

Polish and is contemplative and sorrowful—it’s truly astonishing

that the audience was able to bridge the barrier of language and

mop up the music and receive the message with such clarity.

That, to me, is the mystery of the piece—its universal language.

It seems to cross all kinds of cultural barriers.

When Górecki started writing in his “more accessible,”

“post-romantic” or “new age” style, he was a pioneer. I think the

world has very much turned its attention to spiritual matters and

music as a kind of contemplative medium; this piece perfectly

suited that bill. I think we’re once again slightly turning away

from it. Nonetheless, this music still resonates with a message;

simply contemplating on some large meaning of life, to put

it in a most clichéd way. That was the successful formula. The

mystical simplicity, slow tempos and contemplative nature really

found a responsive echo in audiences worldwide and that’s

why they wanted to come back to the piece, they wanted to own

it, they wanted to play that CD. That was an unprecedented

phenomenon; it was the overall mood rather than any particular

musical device that really made this work so popular. It’s

astonishing and very gratifying that such works have entered

canons of all kinds of followers, not only classical.

Górecki’s visit to Los Angeles in 1997 was very much the

brainwork of Wanda Wilk, the founder of Polish Music Center.

Wanda was a personal friend of Górecki’s and when she invited

him to come to USC, amazingly enough he agreed—he was a

slightly difficult fellow, but he came and had a wonderful time.

Another rarity—when he heard the musicians here and saw

their enthusiasm and welcome, Gorecki decided he was going

to conduct the performance of Third Symphony here himself.

He rarely conducted his own works. It was an amazingly

moving performance.

We have at Polish Music Center an annual program that

is devoted to a single living composer. In 2009, we celebrated

Górecki once again. We wanted to commemorate him mainly

because he continued to write music. I kept encouraging him

over the years to come and revisit L.A. Unfortunately, he was in

failing health and was also a melancholy guy. He would complain

over the phone about the bad weather in Poland and about the

fact that he was slowly “closing up his shop,” as he put it. The last

time I talked to him was about eight weeks before he died.

LOU RHODES Of LAMBLamb is a pop duo from Manchester, England, featuring female vocalist Lou Rhodes and producer Andy Barlow. They enjoyed critical and commercial success in the ’90s with the song “Górecki,” which was inspired by the composer and his Third Symphony.

The song “Górecki” is perhaps Lamb’s most well known and

deeply loved song. It has been sung by Nicole Kidman in the film

Moulin Rouge, appeared in countless other films and ads and is

often played at weddings, funerals and other significant occasions

in the lives of our fans. To relate the success of the song and our

career to Górecki and his Third Symphony, however, would seem

somehow crass. His legacy runs much, much deeper than that.

Górecki’s Third Symphony was my introduction to his

work. I was lying in the arms of a man I had just begun to fall

in love with when I first heard it. I was struck by Górecki’s

use of the low end of the orchestra as a kind of dark bedrock

upon which everything else builds. At the beginning of the

first movement the basses are barely audible. It’s as if they

seep into your consciousness and somehow get under the skin,

establishing the theme, which is gradually picked up by cellos,

violas, violins and then crowned by the soprano voice. I felt

somehow that I could happily die in that moment, the music

somehow reflecting and reinforcing the depth of emotion I felt.

The lyrics of the Lamb song were inspired by that experience.

I couldn’t begin to parallel our song with the success of

Symphony No. 3. I was quite surprised by our song’s success

although we knew when we had just written it that it had a

special intensity. The subject matter of my lyrics differs greatly

from that of the lyrics of the symphony. Mine reveled in the

glow of finding powerful love whereas Symphony No. 3 centers

around the theme of women lamenting the tragic loss of their

children. I think in both the Third Symphony and our song it’s

an intensity and depth of emotion that touches people. Even

though our song speaks of immense joy and the symphony

of great sorrow there is a flavor to both which strikes the

human heart in a similar way. To me, intense joy and sorrow

are often closer than we think. As Milan Kundera wrote in

The Unbearable Lightness of Being, “The sadness was form, the

happiness content. Happiness filled the space of sadness.”

I think our song has actually introduced a few people

to Górecki’s music who might not have heard it otherwise.

Most of my peers didn’t know who Górecki was and still, to

this day, people struggle to pronounce and spell it! A year ago

Lamb played our first Polish show and the response from the

audience when we played “Górecki” was incredible.

I felt a sadness when I heard of Górecki’s passing but

also knew that, of all people, here was a man who understood

the nature of life and death. People like him create art that

resonates deep within the human soul especially for those of us

who feel beneath the surface. It’s as if his music gives a language

to those more profound emotions and feelings that are difficult

to express in any other way.

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JACEK HAWRYLUK Polish Radio Host in WarsawJacek Hawryluk is a host on Polskie Radio and an expert on modern Polish classical music.

In the beginning of the ’90s, a classical FM radio station in the

United Kingdom played part of the Third Symphony at the

same time every Saturday morning. It was Classic FM, which

was connected with Warner Brothers, which owned Nonesuch

Records. Of course, Nonesuch had recorded a new interpretation

of Third Symphony with Dawn Upshaw and Warner made it a

big promotion on Classic FM. It’s very interesting because if you

think about the people who listened to the radio at this time, at

six or seven in the morning, it was the cab drivers, the working

people, who were the listeners of the Third Symphony. In Poland

the piece was well known by people who liked contemporary

classical music, but this [success] came back to Poland from

London and the United States and [then the whole country]

discovered that we have such a great composer.

Four years ago, I broadcasted the Third Symphony by

the Polish Orchestra with a French conductor and a young

Swedish soloist on my radio channel and Górecki listened.

He listened to our channel often. Afterwards, he called my

director and said, “Awful, awful interpretation. I don’t like

that this guy conducted my music. Never, never!” He was

disgusted. There’s no political way to say it. He just called

and said, “No. I listened to this broadcast and this young

conductor didn’t understand.” He was a very straightforward

man. But I liked him very much.

WOJTEK BLECHARZPolish Composer

At the age of 29, Wojtek Blecharz is already one of Poland’s most talented composers. He is currently studying composition in San Diego, California.

The first Górecki piece I heard was Three Pieces in Old Style

from 1963, then Harpsichord Concerto from 1980. I discovered

the Third Symphony when I was 17, in 1998. I think that

the “sound-language” of this symphony is very universal—

everyone can understand it, emotions are clearly defined.

This music has unique emotional dimension—simplicity and

sincerity. An average listener with basic sensitivity cannot

ignore those sounds.

I am a bit disappointed that his earlier, more modernist

works are forgotten. For me as a composer, those earlier

works are more important. His post-tonal music is more

conventional, but I have to say that despite the style he was an

amazing psychologist of the form, master of the repetition. I

am working on a new piece that is supposed to be dedicated to

Henryk Mikołaj Górecki by requirement of the commission.

I am not going to quote or imitate his music, but I would like

to explore his concepts of time, suspension and perception of

repetition.

In America, the problem is that usually people know

his post-tonal music, which is very conventional, simplified.

I belong to a new generation and am trying to follow a

completely different path, so if people here think my

music will be similar to Górecki’s work they will get very

disappointed. So I think that his “fame” does not help [me].

As young composers we have to work very hard to prove that

other values in music besides harmony and melody might be

extremely communicative and expressive.

I saw him in concert, but I regret that I did not have a

chance to talk to him. I think that his death is a huge loss

for my country and my culture. I hope that his music will

still be present and that finally we will start to discover his

extremely interesting earlier works as well. I don’t want

him to be a composer of one composition. On one hand,

he betrayed ideals of avant-garde and chose “the simpler”

way; on the other, I have always admired that he did not

care about trends, styles. Górecki was following his own,

independent path, he had his strong beliefs and crystalized

visions, very personal and honest. I think that every artist

should do the same.

MIKOŁAJ GÓRECKIHenryk Górecki’s SonMikołaj Górecki, Henryk Górecki’s son, is a composer and serves on the faculty of Laredo Community College in Texas. He studied composition at the Katowice Music Academy with his father and is planning to conduct the premiere of his father’s Fourth Symphony.

I studied with my father; he was my professor in Poland. We

talked about music all the time, I learned a lot. It wasn’t very

technical…he was a great teacher.

I was very young when he was working on the Third

Symphony, but I remember the premiere and first recording.

He was sometimes working a lot and sometimes not at all;

there was no schedule. He was usually working in the house.

He would change his mood in one minute many times—his

whole life even. He was like his music; he was obsessed with it,

but he didn’t want to talk too much about it.

He was surprised by his success and that it came so long

after. He never expected it; he had never seen it in all types of

classical music in such a way. It was a coincidence that this

style connected with young people, that they understood

it in some way. And that minimal music was in some ways

like popular music, too. Nobody really knows exactly why,

but it was maybe expected after all this craziness, all this

avant-garde music; maybe it was a time for something more

spiritual. There was a kind of popular style—like Enya—

which at that time was quite popular, and by coincidence

because this symphony written 17 years earlier matched this

occasion. But that’s one of the reasons it was so successful.

The time came and that’s what happened.

He was not the only one who was at that time quite

successful; Arvo Pärt and others found success, but maybe

they were not as successful with a single piece as my father

was. I don’t think the success changed him; he was composing

the same way his whole life. He always wanted to be very

distant from success and was not taken by the fame. For people

living overseas, it was hard to believe that he did not dream of

millions of dollars or being on the cover of magazines.

In my home, all styles of music were welcome but

we didn’t really listen to popular music—with very few

exceptions. I listened to some things with my friends but I

wasn’t too well informed. But I knew some pop music as most

teenagers do. My father liked older things like jazz music and

he listened to classical. He was always very close to Chopin and

Szymanowski, and Beethoven and Schubert as well. Mainly he

was opposed to the style of life which rock and roll promotes…

drugs, sex...that was the main thing he was against. It wasn’t

the music alone, but that together with the music.

There is truth to me finishing my father’s Fourth

Symphony. The piece’s movements were all composed, so I

just have to direct it. There are plans for its premiere. I know

what is going to happen, but I cannot speak about it.

The best things you learn by yourself. But it’s good to

study with someone, so the person I would say I learned the

most from was my father. F

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