Gustav Holst's Savitri Elucidated by Hindu thought

Gustav Holst, throughout his life manifesting a rather mystic penchant, was, in his early career, quite taken with Hindu writings? it was as a result of his studies in Sanskrit that his chamber opera Savitri , Opus 25, emerged in 1908. Based on a story in the Mahabha - rata, the one act opera tells of a devoted wife (Savitri) who, through unusual fortitude and pointed acumen, releases her husband (Satyavan) from the supposedly irrevocable call of Death. While a detailed analysis of the work is fascinating in and of itself, disclosing important attributes of Holst's compositional approach at a turning point in his creative life, such an analysis be comes much more valid when it sheds light on the aesthetic, artistic, and, in this instance, spiritual meaning of the piece. This is the purpose of the analysis undertaken for this study. Here, musical sounds become symbols for ideas and broad philosophical concepts. Motifs, themes, key and pitch areas, spec

GUSTAV H O L S T !S SAVITRI ELUCIDATED EY HINDU THOUGHT Scott Alan Landvatter A thesis submitted to the faculty of The University of Utah partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Music Department of Music The University of Utah December 1984 C o p y r i g h t © 1984. Scott Alan Landvatter All Rights Reserved THE UNIVERSITY OF UTAH COLLEGE OF FINE ARTS SUPERVISORY COMMITTEE APPROVAL of a thesis submitted by S c o t t Alan L a n d v a t t e r This thesis has been read by eac h member o f the following supervisory committee and by majority vote has been found to be satisfactory. Chairman: ^ Margare t Rorke f r a y > 7 (j Bruce Re ich A / / / / W -------------------- Jay Welch THE UNIVERSITY OF UTAH COLLEGE OF FINE ARTS FINAL READING APPROVAL T o the Graduate Council o f The University o f Utah: I have read the thesis o f S c o t t A la n L a n d v a t t e r _______________________ in its final form and have found that (1) its format, citations, and bibliographic style are consistent and acceptable; (2) its illustrative materials including figures, tables, and charts are in place; and (3) the final manuscript is satisfactory to the Supervisory Committee and is ready for submission to the Graduate School. JQL . i , lM ___ ,____________ Date J Margaret Rorke Chairperson, Supervisory Committee Approved for the Major Department - v-- ^ ^ ------ ^ f Edgar Thompson Chairperson Approved for the Graduate Council -y- -----Y ^ - Keith Engar Dean. College ofr rts ABSTRACT Gustav Holst, throughout his life manifesting a rather mystic penchant, was, in his early career, quite taken with Hindu writings? it was as a result of his studies in Sanskrit that his chamber opera S a v i t r i , Opus 25, emerged in 1908. Based on a story in the M a h a b h a - rata, the one act opera tells of a devoted wife (Savitri) who, through unusual fortitude and pointed acumen, releases her husband (Satyavan) from the supposedly irrevocable call of Death. While a detailed analysis of the work is fascinating in and of i t s e l f f disclosing important attributes of Holst*s compositional a p ­proach at a turning point in his creative life, such an analysis b e ­comes much more valid when it sheds light on the aesthetic, artistic, and, in this instance, spiritual meaning of the piece. This is the purpose of the analysis undertaken for this study. Here, musical sounds become symbols for ideas and broad philosophical concepts. Motifs, themes, key and pitch areas, specific vertical harmonies, the use of choral parts and instrumental w r i t i n g - all these serve to vitalize Savitri, Satyavan, and Death, revealing the three c h a r ­acters, not as isolated physical entities, but rather as symbols themselves, paradigmatic representations of otherwise ineffable c o n ­ceptions. As H o l s t 1s opera successfully renders each character real and a c c e s s i b l e to the listener, it thoroughly identifies them, d i s t i n ­guishing them musically from one another. Yet, just as Hindu scrip- ture i t s e l f , the opera functions simultaneously on numerous levels. For as the music stylistically demarcates the dramatic personalities, it also unites them, a close theoretical scrutiny showing that, for all their differences, Savitri, Satyavan, Death, and even Maya, the goddess of illusion, are one and the same. Certainly, one of the most important aspects of Hindu thought is the notion of unity, of all divergencies being mere extensions of one omnipresence. And in Hindu belief it is m a n fs eventual ability to recognize the misl e a d ­ing sway of seeming opposition and polarity that admits him at last into eternity and truth. Such is the message of Holst's opera, a message that, for all its transcendence, is completely demonstratable in theoretical a n a l ­ysis, an approach which could be no more tangible and concrete. And by the concreteness of just such a cerebral approach, one validates not only H o l s t !s ideas concerning his opera, but also his overall notions as regards the arts in general: Art is at once physical and incorporeal, for in actuality any presumed division between the spir­itual and the earthly is unreal, all is and must be one. v iv 1 1 5 10 13 U 16 2k 26 33 33 38 43 50 55 68 75 81 90 100 119 136 151 155 164 175 181 181 184 187 190 197 198 TABLE OF CONTENTS INTRODUCTION General Background ........... The Tale of Savitri from the Mahabharata .... Holst's Libretto ............ . Hindu Background for H o l s t fs Opera ........... Maya ...................... . Unity ...................... Summary ....................... . Notes ....................... . THE ANALYSIS ....................... . Satyavan the Victim The Mirror and the Nameless Unknown .......... M a y a - The Veil of Illusion ., The Circle of Death ..... . Death Becomes F l e s h ........ . S a v i t r i fs L u l l a b y ........... . Death and L o v e - Holiness and Death the Blessed God ...... , S a v i t r i 1s Song for Life . CONCLUSION .........................., The Character Complex ...... . Illusion or Reality ........ . The Pathway .................... BIBLIOGRAPHY CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION General Background The collection of books found in Holst's London studio after his death in 1934- reveals an interest in several subjects outside music. It was a small assortment, though, and suggests also that he was not inclined toward building any sort of personal library. As his daughter wrote of him, "He had read a good deal during his life, but he had never owned a library, for books were things that 1 were either borrowed or given a w a y . 11 Any volumes which he did choose to keep, then, must have been important to him and, as such, would offer some insights into his personal tastes and beliefs. One particular text, stacked among the novels of Hardy, translations of Greek plays, editions of English poetry and the like, was a copy of the U p a n i s h a d s , one of the important bodies of Hindu sacred writing. Holst's interest in Hinduism began in 1899, when he was first exposed to English translations of Sanskrit literature. He was twenty-five at the time. These writings, perhaps above all others, were to play an important role in his artistic and philosophical development, and in time became the fundamental material for a number of his c om­positions, Those writings which most attracted him in those early years were the poetic hymns from the Rig V e d a , the oldest of Hindu scripture, and the Bhagavad G i t a , the epic tale of Krishna and Ar-juna, the warrior. The collective philosophy of the Bhagavad G i t a , especially as understood by Holst and thusly manifest in his temperament, is aptly capsualized in the words of his daughter: "The wise man, a c ­cording to the ‘Bhagavad G i t a 1, is fearless, and free from vanity, egoism, impatience, and the dread of failure. He is indifferent to worldly ambition: he is just, pure, impartial, and ready to do whatever work is given him, without complaint and without any hope of reward. He never finds fault with others, he is not jealous, and he is unmoved by good or evil fortune. He is the same in friendship as in hatred, and in pleasure as in pain. He cares nothing for pr o p ­erty, and he has no particular home. Praise and blame are alike to him, and he never speaks unnecessarily. And he has reached under- 2 standing by long study and contemplation.M Holst never did claim attachment to any specific religion. But, he absorbed the precepts of Eastern thought with the honest enthusiasm and conviction for which he was well known. To him this was no mere esoteric, metaphysical fancy. It was a way of life, an approach to existence which was ever expanding in his thought and 3 which was forever apparent in the way he chose to live. W i thin time Holst became dissatisfied with the available trans­lations of the great Hindu works. He had desired to set some of the writings to music but found English renditions awkward and ill-suited for the task. Thus began his studies of Sanskrit, an endeavor that placed him as a student in the School of Oriental Languages in L o n ­don. He never became fluent, but firmly acknowledged that reading 2 in the original, even if laboriously done, afforded him a more thor­ough understanding of the works. In addition, his labors did bear fruit musically; he wrote four sets of choral hymns and an early group of solo hymns using his own translations from the Rig V e d a . He also wrote his own libretto to his early opera, Sita, a r o m a n ­tic drama based on the wondrous tale of Prince Rama and his r e mark­able wife, Sita, a story taken from the Indian epic, The R a m a y a n a . Sita was begun in 1900 and completed seven years later after innumerable hours of painstaking work and consideration. His close friend, Ralph Vaughan-Williams, had faithfully given musical sugges­tions, and other friends had helped with the notation and copying. Thus, when he entered the piece in 1908 in the Ricordi Opera C o m p e ­tition and failed to win the prize, he was devastated. In later years he was to recognize the style of Sita as overly Wagnerian, lavish and quite uncharacteristic of his own musical voice. Still, at the time, the o p e r a's defeat was humiliating. He put the ma n u ­script away, never to be published or performed.^ Holst's next attempt at opera was in 1908, when he composed S a v i t r i , his opus 25. Savi t r i , too, was based on a story taken from Sanskrit and, like Sita, its libretto was written by the composer. The musical approach, however, was entirely different. While the three-act Sita was opera on a grand scale, Savitri was composed of one continuous act lasting only about thirty minutes. Holst himself referred to the work as 1 opera di camera*, and its short length as well as its minimal resources support the appropriateness of such a designation. There are only three soloists. The w o m e n's chorus, which has no real dramatic significance and remains hidden 3 k throughout, is only used for its timbral effect. The orchestra, also hidden, is not a true orchestra at all, but rather a small e n ­semble consisting of a double string quartet, a contra-bass, two flutes, and an English horn. As Holst states that the work can be performed with or without a curtain and may even be played out-of-doors, it would follow that staging and costuming will most likely be unelaborate. The set, if the work is done outside, requires only one prop, a pathway running through a wood. The composer based his libretto for Savitri on a story found in the Aranyakaparvan, or The Book of the F o rest, the third major section in the large Indian epic, The Mahabharata. It is interest­ing that each particular body of Hindu scripture displays a singular quality or religious tone which characterizes it from other Hindu scriptures. And that quality peculiar to The Mahabharata as a whole seems to be one of greater accessibility and practicality, in c on­trast to, say, the Upanis h a d s , where concepts can be highly abstract and often incomprehensible to an inexperienced reader. Thus it is that broad principles of truth and being are frequently personified in The Mahab h a r a t a . Here, they assume the outlines of a concrete mythology wherein one encounters distinct gods and goddesses, priests and holy men, royalty and nobility, and other mortals and even a ni­mals representing varying levels of purification and awareness. And as The Mahabharata is constructed as a magnificent epic, the lessons it teaches take on the form of tales and parables. The story of Savitri is one such tale, and though Holst altered some of its details in his rendering, it will be useful here to recount the original The Tale of Savltri frorr. The Mahabharata There was once a great and noble ruler, a devout and mighty observer of the sacred Law. He was wise and benevolent, and known by all who loved him as Asvapati, King of the Madras, one who had been blessed with much understanding and upon whom the gods had looked kindly. Yet, there was a misfortune which cast a shadow over his household; he was without progeny. Realizing that he could not fulfill the Law without heirs, he took upon himself special vows including the recitation of the savitri formula^ and the performing of oblations daily to appease the gods- all that he may be blessed with a child. This Asvapati did for eighteen years, at which time the g o d ­dess Savitri, daughter of the Sun, visited the King and granted his wish. Time passed and A s v a p a t i 1s first Queen gave birth to a comely daughter, justly named Savitri after the goddess who had given her. As Savitri grew her unexcelled beauty increased, as did the unusual depth of her wisdom and her devotion to the sacred Law. In fact, so exceptional was she that no man would dare take her in marriage, feeling unworthy of such a woman. As Savitri was A s v a p a t i fs only hope for posterity, this u n ­fortunate situation troubled him, so much so that he determined that his daughter should leave the kingdom and seek a husband herself. Whereupon Savitri, in obeisance to her father's desires, left and entered the grand Forest of Austerities. Here she met the famed King Dyumatsena and his wife Saibya. Dyumatsena had once governed a vast kingdom, but with his advancing age he had lost his eyesight, and his enemies, recognizing an advantage, took possession of his 5 lands. The King escaped with his wife and his young son to the forest, where they lived in peace and in strict compliance with the Law. It was the princely son, Satyavan, now grown, that Savitri chose as her husband. When Savitri returned home, she found her father in company with the exalted seer, Narada, and thus before them both made known her choice. Narada, upon hearing S a t y a v a n rs name, shrieked in d i s ­may, for as a holy man he knew the fate that was ordained for the young man. For, though Satyavan was full of virtue and beloved of the gods, it was destined that in one year*s time he should pass from the earth and enter the realm of the dead. Shocked by N a r a d a 1s words, King Asvapati pressed upon his daughter to find another for her husband. But Savitri, being full of integrity and a complete understanding of the Law, knew she could not alter her decision. The choice had been made. And as with all choice, there must be loss as well as gain. So, seeing that the princess could in no way be turned from absolute accordance with the Law, the King set out with his daughter and the wedding party to meet King Dyumatsena in the forest, to join the woodland prince with the beautiful Savitri. The days, the weeks, and the months passed, and Savitri grew to know much joy. The bond between herself and Satyavan became ever stronger, and her life with his family in the forest brought great peace and contentment. But forever in her mind, like the darkest of shadows incongruously cast at noonday, were the words of the seer, Narada, the foretelling of her h u s b a n d fs death. So it was, that a year of happiness passed quickly, and almost suddenly Satya- 6 v a n ls time had come. Three days before her husband was to die, Sa-vitri took upon herself an oath to stand erect, resolute and waking until the moment foretold. She ate no food and drank no liquid and remained as stone in one spot until the prescribed day had arrived. At last the sun rose on that dreaded morning. The vigilant woman performed her libations to the fire and the sunrise, and when Sat-yavan raised his axe to enter the forest for the d a y !s labor, she followed him, knowing what lay ahead. As the hours advanced the inevitable drew nearer and nearer, and finally Satyavan, grown sickly and fatigued from the cutting of wood, collapsed, his body motionless on the ground. Savitri ran to her husband*s prostrate form, and, as she laid his head in her lap, she looked up and noticed a tall and powerful figure standing in a saffron robe and holding a noosed rope in his hand. He was a be a u ­tiful man who shone like the sun, yet still a man with an awesome countenance. And it was by this countenance that Savitri knew him to be a god and thus humbled herself before him as he began to speak. "I am Yama. Prince S a t y a v a n !s time has passed. But since he is a just and a good man and filled with the holy Law, I have come myself, 7 the Lord of all Dead. I myself shall take him a w a y . 11 With this pronouncement Death then extracted S a t y a v a n's soul from the li f e ­less body that lay on the ground. And the soul was small, like the size of Yama's thumb, and it was tied up in the noose as Death turned to leave. Nonetheless, Savitri, being purified by her recent vow of fasting and vigilance and empowered by her love of the Law, f o l ­lowed Death as he travelled the path to his own kingdom. And as 7 she walked along with Death, she spoke great things, revealing her goodness and her uncommon wisdom and perception. Death, e x c eeding­ly impressed by her extraordinary insights, chose to reward her and was thereby moved to offer her the desires of her h e a r t - all, save the life of Satyavan. So it was, that she requested sight for her father-in-law and the restoration of his kingdom, and also that her own father may be given one hundred sons to assure the survival of his line. So, Death granted all these things, bidding Savitri take her leave and return home. Yet the woman would not go. She persisted with Death, con­tinuing her espousals on truth and the Law, expounding upon the virtues of the 's t r i c t 1 and the 'a u s t e r e 1, who were those who lived by the Law. At length, Yarca became so moved by her words that, in love and in deference to her astounding acumen, he bid her choose the ultimate boon, one without qualification, without restriction. Instantly realizing the extent of D e a t h's offer, Savitri asked for the only gift that could have meaning to her. She appealed for her h u s b a n d's life, declaring that without him she herself would be as the dead. She could have no existence without him whom she loved. Fully acknowledging her plea, Yama untied the spirit of S a t ­yavan and gave it to Savitri, saying, "Oh most wondrous of women, your wish has been met. Take the man which you have won and the heavens shall bless you and your husband with great posterity and all the world shall speak of you, as you will forever be an example unto all those who seek the sacred Law." With this, Death departed as Savitri took hold of her h u s b a n d's soul, returning to where his body lay. When he revived, he remembered 6 only that he had slept and in his dreams had beheld a powerful p e r ­sonage, both marvelous and terrifying. But Savitri knew. And the gods knew that an uncommon woman, though mortal, had averted what had been decreed by the heavens, what had been foretold as an i n ­exorable fact. By and through the Law, she had made Law and had saved her husband from death. This is how the account unfolds in The Mahabharata, certain­ly with a number of details that could only prove superfluous in a one-act chamber opera. H o l s t 1s libretto, therefore, provides a nice paring away of both characters and events. Only Savitri, Sat-yavan, and Death appear in the opera, and all the scenes involving other characters are omitted. But the composer's libretto is more than a condensation of the original story, for several changes and even additions have clearly been made for reasons other than sim­plification. It is true that a libretto must meet the dramatic and musical intentions of the composer; surely certain alterations Holst has made fulfill such practical ends. Nonetheless, a close look at the whole work makes it apparent that the composer had some­thing very specific to say, something surpassing mere dramatic and musical content* Holst had been studying Hindu writings for nearly ten years by the time he began work on S a v i t r i . Thus he had a broad b a c k ­ground from which to address the tale. He knew the full implica­tions of the story, even those not outwardly expressed, whereas a reader not familiar with Hindu philosophy would not. Therefore, desirous that Savitri become a potent vehicle, not only for the ideas inherent in the story, but for a wider range of Hindu thought, Holst constructed his own parable, so to speak, a rendition more able to communicate what he wanted to voice. Holst's Libretto Holst's opera begins on an empty stage. Death, from a d i s ­tance and unseen by the audience, makes known his presence. It is an ominous presence, one which has tormented Savitri for quite some time. Shortly, she comes on stage, holding her hands over her ears to shut out the forbidding summons, the call for her husband, the omen of his imminent death. But it is useless, for she cannot escape that dark voice. She hears it at night, at midday. She hears it in the temple during oblations. For her, none else exists except that dread summons. At this point, Satyavan joins his wife on stage, Death still hidden from view. Thoroughly unaware of what plagues Savitri, the carefree woodsman, with axe over his shoulder, sings of his day in the forest and of his joy in returning home to his beloved mate. It is not long, though, before he notices her troubled mein. C o n ­cerned, he inquires, "But thou art pale and trembling, What ails Q thee?" Savitri answers, speaking vaguely of the fears that b e ­set her. Satyavan, still ignorant that it is the threat of his own demise which terrifies his wife, begins to sing of Maya, the sorceress of illusion, the creator of dreams and phantoms, the d e ­ceptive goddess responsible for Savitri's present state of agita­tion. But Savitri discounts her husband's conclusions, for she believes that she sees beyond Maya. She sees the awaiting doom that the blinding veils of illusion have kept from Satyavan. 10 -Seeing that his wife is not satisfied with his explanation, Satyavan continues to question her. When she replies, "He doth come," still not specifically implicating Death, Satyavan lifts his axe in a fury, preparing himself to meet the, as yet, unknown enemy. In the midst of S a t y a v a n 1s courageous yet foolish outburst, Death at last appears on stage, advancing slowly as the victim drops his axe and staggers, eventually sinking inanimate to the ground. Savitri rushes to Satyavan and, taking him in her arms, sings a lullaby of devotion, a song of love and unity between hus- 9 band and wife. But as Death draws nearer, her song becomes one of guardianship, as if she had power to forestall what is p r edes­tined. Her protective declarations are not allowed to continue, however, for Death silences her, proclaiming himself and his mission. N ow that the woman is actually in the presence of him whom she has so feared, her panic gives way to a mood of respect; see­ing that he is a god, Savitri greets Death with honor and reverence. Indeed, the reception is such that the baneful visitor is caused to take note of Savitri*s unexpected attitude of veneration, her w i s ­dom and integrity, and the purity of her love. Moved by this e x ­ceptional mortal, he chooses to vouchsave her a boon, a gift that may include all except the life of Satyavan. Savitri takes Death at his word and thus begins a most extra­ordinary petition. With a passion and intensity that stands in n o ­table contrast to the gravely austere tone set so far in the opera, she asks of Death a rather unwonted favor. She seeks of him the fullness of Life. Yet it is not simply the continuation of mortal­11 ity she longs for. It is an endless Life of love and service, of hope and triumph. And it is a Life of communion and unity, an e x ­istence wherein conflicts and opposing forces are resolved and r e ­conciled. A state where "time and space are forgot, And joy and sorrow are o n e ." Greatly affected by Savitri and her suit, Death proffers the gift of Life, Eternal Life in all its completeness. And by bestow­ing such a gift, he grants that which Savitri truly wishes for most, the life of Satyavan. For what has been given cannot be realized if husband and wife are separated. Savitri cannot fulfill the Life awarded her without Satyavan. Emboldened by her victory over what the universe had foreordained, Savitri commands Death to return alone to his kingdom. And as the dark spectre slowly withdraws and disappears from the stage, Savitri approaches the body of her husband. Kneeling by his side, she sings softly as he gradually recovers. Awakening, Satyavan is bewildered. Was there a threatening stranger near? Or was it all a delusion, a wicked wile of Maya. Convinced that he has been enslaved by an illusory dream, he looks upon his wife and concedes that she alone is free from Maya, she alone is real. Yet Savitri, knowing what she does, insures Satya­van that the nature of her reality, her very substance and ex i s ­tence, is possible only through him. She helps Satyavan to his feet, and, supporting him, they both exit. The opera is not complete just yet, however. Death reenters, passing nearly unnoticed in the background, reappearing to deliver some startling lines. Acknowledging that he has been conquered, 12 that he has been met by one knowing true Life, by one free from Maya, Death proceeds to deny himself. He attests that Maya's power is extensive, that illusion reigns not only in the mortal world "where men dream they are living," but also in that other world "where men dream they are dead." Thus Death himself is an il l u ­sion, one of the most deceitful ploys of Maya. The phantom exits for the last time, and again, as at the beginning, the stage is empty, the final sounds being the distant unaccompanied strains of Savitri*s lullaby, her song of devotion to her beloved Satyavan. Hindu Background for Holst's Opera Before attempting any in depth appraisal of Savi t r i , there are some fundamental aspects of Hindu theology and philosophy which must first be considered. And to determine which elements of I n ­dian thought are most significant in the opera, one may begin by noting how the story line in H o l s t's libretto differs from the orig­inal. As seen from the preceding synopsis, Holst has not only a b ­breviated the story, but has also made some significant adjustments and additions. And one of the most obvious is the inclusion, so to speak, of another character, one which, although not appearing in the original episode, is found consistently throughout many Hindu writings. This supplementary being is the force of illusion, the obscuring veil which separates men from their own source of truth, the power which, among other things, attempts to make the material world appear as the ultimate reality. Indeed, it is this force which creates the physical, phenomenal sphere, making mani­fest the corporeal strictures from which the soul seeks to free 13 u itself. This power, this concealing force is M a y a , ^ the mother 1 1 of this earth, the entity the composer chooses to add to his personae. She is not an actual physical character in H o l s t fs opera, nor is she strictly personified in Hindu writings. Still, her presense in this composition, even as a concept, is highly con­sequential and merits some discussion. Maya It is Satyavan's words, taken from H o l s t's libretto, which reveal how the composer sees Maya and how illusion shall function in the course of the opera. 12 It is Maya: Dost thou not know her? Illusions, dreams, phantoms. But to the wise, Maya is more, Look around- All that thou see*st, Trees and shrubs, The grass at thy feet, All that walks or creeps, All that flies from tree to tree, All is unreal, All is Maya. Our bodies, our limbs, our very thoughts, we ourselves are slaves to Maya. What remaineth? Who can say? Surely Satyavan has made clear the role of Maya as well as the enormous reach of her influence. For not only does she rule the world of dreams and phantoms, where the effects of illusion seem more apparent, but also the waking world, the tangible world which surrounds us daily. Our bodies, even our very minds and thoughts are enslaved by illusion. All is Maya. All is unreal. This is quite a statement, and rather unsettling. But more must be said. For what exactly is illusion as it is being consi­dered here? Wh a t precisely does it mean when all man's physical environment is said to be unreal? First, according to Hindu thought, 1u n r e a l n e s s f does not necessarily infer utter nonexistence. C l a i m ­ing that the earthly sphere is an illusion is not saying that it is total hallucination, that it is not there at all. Rather, it becomes illusory when thought to be more than it is, when seen as the ultimate reality. To avoid counting the tangible world for more than it truly is, what, then, is it? The material world can be defined in many ways, this fact of 'definability1 being testament to its most sa­lient feature- its capacity to be labeled, explained, and described by means of man's mental aptitudes. ^ Humanity exists in a state dominated by rationality and logic. Things are researched, assessed, and categorized. Such is an endless process, which, of course, does not only take place on a scientific level. This is simply how man deals with his world and his experience of it. To aid in this cer­ebral and deductive process all men have a most serviceable tool- 15 1 the intellect, and one of its most important extensions- language. For what is verbal speech but a method of labeling, of classifying, a way of distinguishing certain things from other things and p u t ­ting them in their appropriate boxes. True, language and intel­lect deal with abstract ideas, concepts not fully explicable in a rational sense and therefore difficult to denominate. But still, these ideas are distinguished as such, thereby labeled and placed in their proper niches. Thus, through the assistance of intellect and language, man explains his world. It would appear that all matter is within his logical powers of observation and comprehension. This is valid as far as it goes. Nonetheless, if this type of reasoning and the world in which it functions is thought to extend further than it actually does, the entire system becomes fraudulent. As said 1 3 earlier, when not recognized for what it is, no more and no less, the physical condition becomes an illusion. In short, the process 1 7 of postulation by means of what may be called the empirical method is only one stance from which to view reality. Haplessly, it is a stance which, particularly if presumed to be more inclusive than it is, allows Maya one of her greatest holds on men. By defining, labeling, categorizing, looking at things !one at a t i m e 1, sepa­rating one thing from another, even dividing one thing into its component p a r t s - all this is how we afford Maya license to effect perhaps the most dangerous of all deceptions: the illusion of sep­arateness, the breakdown of oneness, the denial of unity. IUT ni• t+ y 18 The Hindu conception of unity is a weighty idea, one with far reaching implications, a concept especially significant here because it is unity that is the central theme of H o l s t rs opera. Unity is the idea which actively possessed his mind for many years and found its way, under various guises, into a number of his works; it is unity and his consistent preoccupation with the idea of o n e ­ness which so often brought Holst the designation of a *mystic* composer. Moreover, unity is the dominant idea in his very impor­tant published article of 1920, The Mystic, the Philistine and the A r t i s t , 19 an essay which helps reveal his particular understanding of the concept and its relationship to what he defines as the ‘m y s ­tic experience*. The article, which also discloses the a u t h o r !s notion of the ‘philistine spirit* in order to make clear his main ideas, is essentially an exposition on the mystical moment of one- 17 ness and its connection to art and the artist. The following q u o ­tations should demonstrate Holst*s beliefs. I suggest that all mystical experiences (like all artistic ones) are either illusions or direct and intimate real i z a ­tions. All mystic experiences seem to be forms of union. It is w orth noting that all these experiences, whether sublime or ridiculous, have one thing in common. They are hard to d e ­scribe (because they have so little in common with ordinary life), and yet in themselves they are so convincing. The highest Mystic is, I suppose, one who experiences union with God. Is he alone a Mystic? Or is Whitman a M y s ­tic in his intense feeling of unity with all men, all life? Wh a t of the wonderful feeling of unity with one*s pupils when teaching, a feeling of contact with their minds other than the contact occasioned by speech? Of the similar feel­ing of unity between musical performer and audience? Art is likewise a matter of union, although not so o b ­viously as Mysticism. Tolstoy says: *Art is a means of com­m unica t i o n . 1 Some writers have said that a great painter seems to see a house apart from its human relationship- as a 'r e a l i t y 1, as a !thing in itself*. This is obviously b o r ­dering on Mysticism. We are beyond the ordinary world of r e ­lationship and comparison; there is *vision*, a *direct* and intimate realization*. I have already referred to the feeling of unity established between performer and audience: how much greater is it b e ­tween one performer and another! . . . It is this experience that enables one to realize, even if faintly, what is meant by a state where 'the ocean receives the drop of water, but the drop of water receives the consciousness of the ocean* . . . Your self is merged in the whole; true, but the whole is likewise merged in you. You have trained your instrument to obey your will. Whose will is it obeying now? Your p l a y ­ing is transcended (this is true physically and literally), yet it is yours, and in you the playing of the others is tran­scended. And like all true mystical experiences, while it is so transcendent it is yet so sane and inevitable. This mystic union is even more true of creative Artists. Mozart declared he 'heard1 the notes of a new work as a whole simultaneously in his mind before putting them down on paper. Here we find time and space annihilated- the true mystic state. From the foregoing can be seen the importance of unity in the c om­p oser's overall philosophy of life and art, and, although he d e l i ­ vers his ideas by means of a discussion on mysticism and aesthet­ics, the notion of oneness is salient nonetheless. Perhaps the most consequential aspect of unity found in H o l s t fs opera is its neutralization of separateness, its voidance of the world of distinctions, the domain where Maya reigns supreme. Most directly, this means that all those things which, on an obvious level, appear to be independent of one another are actually one and the same* Going one step further, this means that there can be no differentiation between persons, places, or things. The ramifications of this are extreme. They tell us unequivocably that Savitri is Satyavan, Satyavan is Savitri, and both are Death. None of the three characters exists as a separate entity. They are all extensions of the same idea, the same essence, the same overall reality. If seen as distinct from one another, they are merely contrivances of Maya. Without a doubt, this may seem a problematic situation. Su r e ­ly, it would be an involved idea to portray in opera, an art form which by tradition has sought strong characterization of indivi­dual roles. Notwithstanding the possible difficulties, H o l s t's approach to unity holds firm throughout the piece and even goes further than the fusing of characters. For Holst seeks also to bring together fundamental ideas of greatest opposition, to recon­cile the most distant polarities, the contrary forces which seem . _ _ 20 to keep the universe m balance. It is in such an atmosphere of utter oneness that Death is not only Savitri and Satyavan, but is also Life, and Life is Death. J oy is sorrow. Love is hate. Warmth is chill, -lime is immersed 18 in timelessness. Space is immersed in spacelessness. And in a state wherein ordinary time and space are no longer the f undamen­tal reality, the past and the future merge and become the e v e r ­present, the end is the beginning, up becomes down, and there b e ­comes here. And what remains is 'All1 and 'One1. The existence wherein fA l l f has been dissected into 1 t h i n g s 1 which are then care­fully named and categorized, this existence, especially when viewed in a limited context as the complete reality, has been seen as an illusion and has been replaced by that which is truly complete. •All1 obliterates 'o t h e r 1. And it cannot be labeled and it cannot be known in the manner by which men know 1 t h i n g s 1 with their intel­lects. And so it is, that •All1 is Unity and both are nameless and unknown. To name is to deceive. To know in the deductive sense is to empower Maya, the queen of illusion. Since the infinite principle of oneness eludes the tradition­al processes of 'naming* and 'k n o w i n g 1, the experience of unity is 21 often said to be ineffable. Holst himself implies that this is his belief when he says that mystic experiences of union are hard to describe because they have so little in common with ordinary oo life. ' ' Because absolute unity is so ouch larger than any p o s ­sible lingual definition, those who discuss its essence speak in what seem to be cryptic riddles, making paradoxical statements which, logically appraised, seem impossibly absurd. Often a meth­od of 'negative1 explanation is employed, where the mystic moment of union with all things is elucidated more by a deliberation of . . 23 what it is not, rather than by what it is. W i t h this in mind, it is no small wonder that the intell©ct, 19 which is verbally oriented to be sure, has difficulty grasping the concept of unity as it is being presented here. First, the very nature of such a oneness escapes the mind's comprehensive capa­cities, while, secondly, the only way the issue can be rationally dealt wi t h at all is through a type of verbal twisting to which conventional thought is poorly suited. Perhaps the greatest problem in mentally apprehending the transcendent arises when infinite principles are viewed from a finite stance. This may be the case when the mind first encoun­ters the Hindu conception of utter unity. It has been said that Satyavan, Savitri, and Death are all one and the same character. This is true, but not in the literal way the finite mind sees o ne­ness. For Savitri, Satyavan, and Death, while being one, are also unique extensions of the 'One'; they are varying reflections of the 21 same overall reality. In short, reality is not without variety. Just as the human body, though one organized unit, is not without various parts, oneness is not without particular and diversified aspects. Yet again, these aspects, though various, only have mean­ing as part of the whole. If regarded as mutually exclusive or u n ­related, they appear as independent realities, complete in and of themselves. They pass for what they are not and thus become false and misleading, mere illusions. Seeing unity as possessing multiple properties certainly makes more comprehensible the unifying of supposed extremes, such as Life and Death, joy and sorrow, good and evil. For, though all these things are essential parts of the whole, they are unique and play singular roles within that whole. All this is particularly well 20 symbolized in Hindu writings, where Brahman, the complete and divine essence, is manifest in three forms: the source of light, or the sun; the beams emanating from this source; and the second­ary evidence of this light and its beams- the reflection of the sun in a pool, all unique, yet all Brahman. The Bhagavad Gita also stresses individuality within unity, emphasizing that all seekers, though truly one, assume their own path to truth, ulti­mately accomplishing loving union with Krishna in their own per- , 25 sonal way. This view of reality, multiform and diversified oneness, though evident in much Indian scripture, is not held with any great consistency throughout the entirety of Hindu writing. In fact, the very idea of unity itself is dealt with from a number of differing vantages. On the one end is the absolute oneness ad- 26> vocated by Sankara, whose teachings on the Upanishads date from the eighth century A.D. Here, Brahman is 'All1. It is both cre­ator and created. It pervades everything and is everything. The human soul, Atman, is also Brahman as well as being infused with Brahman. To attain bliss one eschews the contingent and tangible world where events take place in time and space and are the result of a delusory cause and effect cycle. Then, once the meretricious lures of earthly existence are disregarded, one discerns that he need not seek truth. He is truth. He is God. 27 28 At the other end are the views held by Ramanuja and Madhva of the eleventh and thirteenth centuries, respectively. In this i n ­stance the concept of unity, the principle of Brahman, is broken down into constituent portions, each of which possess distinct 21 characteristics. In addition, although everything emanates from the same 'One1, the degree to which the diverse parts of the 'One1 can be joined in total unity is highly qualified. For example, man can never actually be or become God. This point is made e s ­pecially clear in the Bhagavad-Purana, where it is held that God or Krishna and the lovers of Krishna can never attain absolute 29 unity* Thus, though God and man are the same, deity always r e ­mains unique in some way. Otherwise, it is believed there could be no independent functioning of love and grace flowing from cre­ator to created. These valuations on the nature of unity and oneness and all the gradations in between attest to the spirit of Hindu philosophy in general* For it is a broad system of thought which is so open and all-inclusive that seemingly opposing beliefs exist side by 30 side without invalidating each other or disrupting the whole. As might be expected, such contrastive views can be found from one text bo another. This is evident when comparing, for instance, the almost unfathomable, virtually unqualified unity found in much of the Upanishads with the more diversified and thus more compre­hensible unity of the Mahab h a r a t a . But these outwardly contrary perspectives can also co-exist within one work, such as is superb­ly seen in the Bhagavad G i t a , one of Hinduism's most influential texts, and one Holst had studied at length by the time he composed S a v i t r i . It is here, within a philosophical network where conflicts are simply not ackowledged as significant, that a vital tenet is made manifest. And it is a tenet which not only clarifies much of 22 Hindu thought, but which also reveals what Holst is attempting to achieve in his opera. Simply stated, reality may be experienced in infinite ways, all of which are thoroughly credible and pertinent. The only requirement is that each experience is permitted to be what it actually is, nothing more. For instance, if one perceives a portion of reality from the earthly position of mortality, the discovery, as has been stressed, is fully valid. But it remains so only if recognized for what it is: just one possible place from 31 which certain features of reality can be seen. Knowing that the reality of unity may be realized from many positions offers a clue as to how one might look at H o l s t's opera. F°r Savitri can be seen from various angles, take on different meanings, be interpreted on several levels. All these levels are relevant and justifiable. And, as in Hindu scripture, they need not be in discord; each view contributes positively to the whole. Still, appraising the opera from different stands may i ni­tially prove bewildering. With several ways to consider each p a s ­sage, all characters, events, and situations seem hopelessly incon­sistent. They are never solely what they appear to be at first glance, so that one is forever asking himself, 'who is who and what is what'. Feeling exasperated, there may be a temptation to believe that one interpretation voids another, or that the open acknowledgement of dissimilar attitudes has a way of cancelling itself out, resulting in the uneasy feeling that nothing has been resolved at all. And to further this understandably perplexing predicament, the pervading spirit of Maya is continually qualify­ing the manner in which Holst's characters are to interact in a 23 mixed atmosphere of both reality and illusion. Speaking from a Hindu standpoint, a goodly amount of all this confusion is attributable to Maya herself, she who uses our ration­al minds to conclude that such a motley plethora of ideas could not possibly stand together, let alone be complementary. Yet they do stand together and are interrelated in the most intimate fashion. Such is the nature of Hindu thought. And such is the nature of Holst's opera. One must simply be prepared to look at the work in this manner, freely admitting all plausible explanations and interpretations. Summary In summary, Savitri is an opera which speaks of unity; this is the composer's pivotal theme. Unity in its completeness a c ­counts for all that is and is therefore the superlative reality. And it is a reality which may be perceived and experienced from innumerable perspectives and thus evaluated in innumerable ways. One of these ways is to see the reality of oneness as diverse, possessing countless varying attributes, each being unique while concurrently being part of the whole. This perception of unity is, by and large, that which dominates Holst's opera, though there are others which are apparent also. The purpose of the ensuing study, therefore, is to determine how this view of unity is portrayed both in music and libretto, r e ­membering that Holst is author of both. Examination of the music itself will be analytical; yet, an analytical investigation with a different end than the determination of harmonic, rhythmic, or 24 melodic pr o c e d u r e - this is not a deliberation on compositional style. Rather, it is an evaluation of artistic and aesthetic con­tent, a potentially subjective assessment which is, nonetheless, based on concrete evidence found in the music and text. In brief, the following analysis shall render some insight into what the com­poser is trying to say and how he is attempting to communicate it. As a study of this nature cannot help but bear, at least in part, a personal stamp of the author, the reader may find themselves at variance with certain stands taken, certain conclusions drawn. Still, such disagreement shall merely reiterate one of the most fundamental premises stressed in the preceding discussion. As mentioned, within a context of total unity, there is no actua] conflict between differing viewpoints. Reality can be experienced and understood on many levels. Such is the essence of Hindu thought. Such is the essence of Holst's opera. If accepted for what it is, no more and no less, most any interpretation is tenable. The f ol­lowing is one such interpretation. 25 26 Notes 1Imogen Holst, Gustav Holst (London: Oxford University Press, 1969), p. 16a . 2Ibid., p. 2 1 . 3 As regards H o l s t's Hindu leanings, it is interesting to note that his stepmother was a theosophist, and that as a young boy he was exposed to lofty conversations on reincarnation and the like at home. Annie Besant's theosophical movement, which had a c ­tually been initiated by Madame Blavatsky, was indicative of an overall Hindu 'renaissance' which literally possessed England for several decades before and after the turn of the century. Thus Holst's personal studies of Sanskrit literature and the ideas he gleaned from them must certainly have been influenced to some d e ­gree by the general Eastern trends which were so prominent at the time in his country, trends which were marked to some extent by the coming together of both Eastern and Western philosophical ideas. This marriage of East and West should be born in mind when considering how Holst reveals his particular understanding of Hindu concepts in S a v i t r i . ^Holst, while still in his youth, was greatly affected by W a g n e r's music. His daughter tells us in her biography of her father, Gustav H o l s t , p. 11, that "after standing in the gallery for a performance of 'Tristan' he would walk all night through the silent streets and watch the dawn over the river, his mind in a w h i r l , ' 1 This influence Holst himself would one day refer to as "good old Wagnerian bawling," but vestiges of late nineteenth-century chromaticism would continue to appear, though in lesser degree, in several compositions which succeed Sita. Some of these romantic inklings are evident in Savitri, not the least of which is the usage of leitmotif-like phrases and themes to represent ideas and personalities. Other romantic Wagnerian aspects will be noted later. The Mahab h a r a t a , trans. and ed. J. A. B. van Buitenen (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1975) ^The savitri formula is a hymn from the Rig Veda addressed specifically to the Sun, the Sun being named Savitar in Vedic wr i t ­ings. It is set to a particular meter known as 'gayatri', contain­ing twenty-four Sanskrit syllables. Being brief, more like a verse than an entire hymn, it may be translated as follows: "We meditate on that excellent light of the divine Sun; may he illuminate our minds." ^Quotes represent my own paraphrasing of the dialogue which takes place in the original. ^Quotes are taken verbatim from Holst's libretto. 27 The union of man and wife, particularly in many of the d e ­votional sects of Hinduism, is seen as emblematic of the devotee's 'marriage', as it were, with God, a conjoing which symbolizes one of the principal themes of Hindu thought- the unity of all things. This concept is vital and should be noted when appraising the r e ­lationship between Savitri and Satyavan throughout Holst's opera, ^ A l t h o u g h there are several shades of meaning applied to the notion of Maya in Hindu thought, the concept, in the broadest sense, applies in one way or another to illusion. In Paul Deussen, The Philosophy of the U p a n i s h a d s . trans. Rev. A. S. Geden (New York: Dover Publications, Inc,, 1966), p. 227, the author states, . . the Upanishads teach that this universe is not the atman, the proper 'self' of things, but a mere maya, a deception, an illusion, and that the empirical knowledge of it yields no vidya, no true know­ledge, but remains entangled in avidya, in ignorance. On p. 42 of the same work, Deussen says, "The objects which lie around us on every side in infinite space, and to which by virtue of our corpo­real nature we ourselves belong, are, according to Xant, not 'things in t h e m s e l v e s , ' but only apparitions. According to Plato, they are not the true realities, but only apparitions. And according to the doctrine of the Upanishads, they are not the atman, the real 'self' of things, but mere maya,- that is to say, a sheer deceit, illusion," In Floyd Ross, The Meaning of Life in Hinduism and Buddhism (Boston: Beacon Press, 1953), p. 35, it is stated that "Maya is inscrutable; it comes into being and it passes away. It is the world of appear­ances rather than the world of reality; or, to state it in a slight­ly different way, the world as seen from a finite point of view," Another slightly varied conception of Maya is also apparent in Hindu writing. Here, since illusion is tied so closely to the physical sphere, and since this sphere, in a sense, is simply an incarnation of Brahman (the ultimate, divine principle of the uni­verse), Maya can be interpreted as being the tangible embodiment of Brahman itself, rather than merely the illusion caused by such. In Sarasvati Chennakesavan, A Critical Study of Hinduisr. (Delhi: South Asia Books, 1980), pp. 51-52, p, 90, the author explains that Brahman, which is formless, can take on material form and become reified as a god for the benefit of man, as was the case with Krish­na, This is made possible by a special power that Brahman possesses, the power to become material at some level- the power of Maya. This same notion of Maya is expressed in Troy Wilson Organ, The Hindu Quest for the Perfection of Man (Athens, Ohio: 1970), p, 41, where he speaks of Indra going about in many forms by his magical powers, or Maya. He also mentions the magician who conjures up the phenom­enal world by the magical powers of Maya. Wilson has taken both these references from the U p a n i s h a d s . 1 1 Since Maya can be seen not only as the illusion spawned by the material world, but also as the concept of 'physicality' itself, it is not difficult to see why Maya may be referred to as the 'moth­er of this earth'. A quote to this effect by Ramakrishna, the great nineteenth-century yogi, may be found in K. P. S. Choudhary, Moder^ 9 28 Indian Mysticism (Delhi: Montilal Banarsidass, 1981), pp. 106-107: Brahman in its essential nature or immutable being is indetermin­ate and impersonal, while in its sportive creative activity it is personal God or the Divine Mother; and *it is the Divine Mother who has become all t h i s 1 . '1 12H o l s t 1s use of 'd r e a m * here and elsewhere in the opera is to be viewed in the more Western sense of being less real than the waking state, and is therefore not to be confused with a common Hindu idea that the 'd r e a m' state is closer to reality, or the true self, than the 'w a k i n g' state. 13 As all things are Brahman, including the physical world which Brahman has made manifest through Maya, then nothing is ac­tually unreal or without value. The 'r e a l i t y' of the physical sphere, in this sense, is recognized throughout Hindu thought and can be epitomized by the philosophies of Ramakrishna, again found in Choudhary, Modern Indian Mysticism, p. 105: ''All this is Brahman. Nothing is undivine. All things and beings of the universe are Brahman in different forms and degrees of perfection. . . . God, maya, living beings, and the universe form one w h ole." 1 L M a n's ability to use his mind is important, but it is evi­dence of his necessity to deal with a world of Maya, a world of se­parate illusionary objects. That m a n's cognition is not his hi g h ­est and truest self is made clear in the five-level description of the 'self* found in the Katha U g a n 1 sh a d . Here, the outermost or most superficial level is the body itself. The next level is re­presented by the physical senses which, in turn, feed into the third level- the mind. But the mind is not the 'true self*. What comes to it through the first and second levels is simply data. And these data mean nothing until they are properly evaluated by the fourth l ev­el, or reason. Reason is superior to the mind, but even it is not the 'true self*. The fifth level, then, is the apex. It is Atman, or the manifestation of Brahman in man. This five-level concept of the 'self' which developed into the 's h e a t h' theory of the Taittiriva Upanishad and later into the 'waking, dreaming, silence* theory of the Handukya Upanishad is lucidly outlined in Chapter 2 of A. L. Herman, The Bhagavad Gita: A Translation and Critical Commentary (Springfield, 111.: Charles C. Thomas, 1973), pp. 12-19. 1 5 Much of what was mentioned in the preceding note as con­cerns man's cognitive capacities also applies to the 'intellect'. But it must further be made clear that the intellect, in general, is simply incapable of grasping the higher levels of truth, levels which can only be known intuitively. In Deussen, The Philosophy of the U p a n i s h a d s , p. 46, the writer states that " . . . there is room for another, a higher order of things, which is not subject to the laws of space, time, and causality. And it is precisely this hi g h ­er order of things set over-against the reality of experience, from the knowledge of which we are excluded by our intellectual consti­tution, which religion comprehends in faith by her teaching concern­ing God, immortality, and freedom." On pp. 48-49 of Deussen's book, 29 he says, ". . # the Upanishads taught before Kant, that this entire universe, with its relations in space, its consequent manifoldness and dependence upon the mind that apprehends, rests solely upon an illusion, natural indeed to us owing to the limitations of our i n ­tellect # " The Katha Upanishad states, as paraphrased in Ross, The Meaning of Life in Hinduism and B uddhism, p. 35, that "The way to Self-knowledge is as narrow as the sharp edge of a razor, hard to tread and difficult to cross. The desired insight cannot be gained through knowledge of the physical world nor through intel­lectual analysis. Beyond a certain stage in the search, the a n a ­lytical mind must be stopped completely." Also see Choudhary, M o d ­ern Indian M y s ticism, p p # 22-23, where mysticism and intuition are discussed. 16Language is, among other things, the evidence that the i n ­tellect is 'discursive1, in other words, that it thinks deductively and categorically rather than in terms of concord and unity. Human intellect and language are hardly conceivable without each other, and it is a debate for the field of linguistics to determine which of the two has more power over the other. Deussen, in The Phil o s o ­phy of the Upanishads, p. 229, discusses a relevant section from the V e d a s , saying, "When it is said in Rigv. I. 164.46: 'the poets give many names to that which is only o n e , ' it is implied therein that plurity depends solely upon words ( 'a mere matter of w o r d s , ' as it is said later), and that unity alone is real," Deussen also states on pp. 43-4-4» paraphrasing both the Chandogya Upanishad and the Greek, Parmenides, "Here the manifold change of the one sub­stance is explained as mere wordplay, mere name, exactly as P a r ­menides asserts that all which men regard as real is mere name." 17 When speaking of the breakdown of 'oneness1 by means of words, Deussen, in The Philosophy cf the Upanis h a d s , p. 77, says that "What is here described as empty word, mere name, darkness, unreality, i.e. the entire empirical knowledge of things, is f u r ­ther denoted by 'ignorance'," As can be discerned from this and from numerous other passages in the Upanishads themselves, the e m ­pirical method is the typical discursive manner in which the intel­lect assesses the information which comes to it, most of this i n ­formation being of the physical world of Maya. 1 8The concept of unity is so integral to Hindu thought that discussions on its nature and the ideal of the "One* are to be found in nearly every study of Hinduism as well as the scriptural sources themselves. A quote from Troy Wilson Organ, The Hindu Quest for the Perfection of M a n , p. 107, serves as an apt and representative ex-a m p l e : "Brahman^is One, but not a numerical one, nor a unity of a collection, nor the collection as a whole. Brahman is One as o n e ­ness, unification, the principle of integration. Brahman is One only in the sense that there is no other; there is nothing that is n o t * Brahman. Brahman is the non-divisible All from which all things come in a non-divisible way and exist in a non-divisible manner." 30 19 Originally published in The Quest (1920), Holst*s article, The Mystic, the Philistine and the Artist, is presently printed as Appendix II in Imogen Holst, Gustav H o l s t , pp. 194-204. 20As no 'opposites* or conflicts can exist within total u n i ­ty, much Hindu writing dealing with oneness mentions the reconcili­ation of differences. In Choudhary, Modern Indian My s t i c i s m , p. 6, we find some representative comments: **In mystical consciousness the distinctions between *1 * and *You* which are the main causes of c on­flict, hatred and selfishness are overcome. He who achieves the m y s ­tic unifying vision sees that his self is the self of all men, he is in them and they in him.** On p. 14 of the same book, Choudhary, in great succinctness, simply attests, "The Mystical state is a state of distinctionless unity.** 21 Many are the Hindu passages that propose that the highest reality is beyond empirical conception. It cannot be thought of in the cognitive sense, thus it cannot be externalized verbally- hence, it is ineffable. Choudhary writes in Modern Indian M y s ticism, p. 24: **Mystical experience is 'ineffable*. It should be borne in mind, that the central point of mysticism is unintelligibility somewhere, i.e., incommunicability through any intelligible medium. This is the most fundamental point of agreement among the mystics of the East as well as of the West.** In the Mandukya Upanishad is detailed the meditative chanting of the sacred sound AUM. The final stage of the chanting sequence results in complete silence, for Atman has been reached, Atman which is the revelation of Brahman in the individual and, being Brahman, is beyond word or sound. 22See quotation from H o l s t's article, 'The Mystic, the P h i l ­istine and the Artist*, p. 17 of this paper. 23 ' Because the ultimate reality is held to be ineffable, those who experience it resort either to silence, speaking in lofty super­latives, speaking in paradoxes, or describing their experience by a method of negation (i.e., stating what it is not, because ineffabil-ity precludes stating what it is). See Choudhary, Modern Indian M y s t i c i s m , pp. 27-32. The following phrases from Organ, The Hindu Quest for the Perfection of M a n , p. 108, should give an example of the distortions language often takes on to describe what is essen­tially beyond words: **Brahman can only be known by a 'knowing* which transcends subject and object, which is not knowing at all. So Br a h ­man can be 'known* only by 'not k n o w i n g': 'It is conceived of by him by whom It is not conceived of. He by whom It is conceived of, knows It not. It is not understood by those who say they understand It. It is understood by those who say they understand It n o t'.** Organ is basically paraphrasing passages from the Kena U p a n i s h a d . 2 L The idea of reality or oneness possessing variety or ma n i ­festing itself in numerous ways is a doctrine espoused by a p a r t i ­cular school of thought in Hinduism known as ‘Concrete M o n i s m * . One of the major teachings of this group is that, though man ultimately 31 nay become one with reality or God, he still maintains some aspect of individuality or distinctness* One of the most well-known recent advocators of such a view is Rabindranath Tagore. 25 In Herman, The Bhagavad Gita: A Translation and Critical C o m m e n t a r y , p. 25, it is said that the salvation doctrines espoused in the Gita "can be called truly universal for the simple reason that they offer a plethora of alternative paths to liberation and happiness based upon all the possible combinations of human nature." A similar reference can be found in Ross, The Meaning of Life in Hinduism and Bud d h i s m , p. 75, where the author, in his chapter on the teachings of the G i t a , says, "There is diversity of pathways, however, since each person is unique by virtue of heredity and e n ­vironment. Each must find and follow his own path. Though the p a t h ­ways vary indefinitely in detail, all of them lead to a common sum­mit." 26 Sankara (c.700-C.750), Indian scholar and theologian whose teachings many consider to constitute the root of modern Hindu p h i ­losophy. His most important writings are those on the Brahma Sutra and the U p a n i s h a d s , where he develops his ideas of Brahman being the unchanging, eternal 'O n e', all plurality and differentiation being illusion. 27 Ramanuja (c.1017-1137), first important Indian t h eolo­gian to qualify and reject some of S a n k a r a's ideas on absolute o n e ­ness. He developed a powerful movement in 'devotional* Hinduism, where the devotee worships a more concrete manifestation of Brahman, in this instance, the god Visnu and goddess Sri. 28 Madhva (c .1199-C.1278), Indian philosopher whose followers organized the religious group bearing his name. He unequivocably espoused that, while God and man are one in kind, they remain eter­nally individual. He also disagreed with S a n k a r a's belief that all material distinctions refute the true oneness of Brahman and are thus illusory. In this way, Madhva also rejected the traditional Hindu view of Maya, a view which held the world to be utter hallucination. It is also interesting to note that, of all Hindu sects, M a d h v a's is that one which most parallels Christianity. 29' The Bhagavata-Purana, written probably in the tenth-century, during the time that R a m a n u j a's teachings were being disseminated, beautifully expresses the qualities of 'd e v o t i o n a l' Hinduism. The tenth book of the Purana deals with K r i s h n a's childhood and early manhood, some of the passages dealing with the intimate connections between himself and the gopis (the local cowgirls), a symbolic love relationship which allegorizes the mystic coming together of God and his loving disciples. Here is depicted a union which is not seen as absolute in the sense so evident in the U p a n i s h a d s . ^°The broad philosophical and theological scope of Hinduism is one of its most characteristic hallmarks. In the preface of Chennakesavan, A Critical Study of H i n d u i s m , p. xii, the author 32 tells the reader that "Hinduism is a rational religion, not r e quir­ing its adherents to accept any one idea, but to examine impartial­ly all ideas and accept that which is rationally most inviting." In the forward of this same book, N. A. Nikam sums up the eclectic nature of Hinduism in his first paragraph, a nature which indeed accepts views that seem utterly opposing: "Hinduism does not say theists are on the point, and that atheists are beside it. H i n d u ­ism is the comprehension of a Truth which excludes nothing and n o ­body; its conception of Truth includes theists as well as atheists. To the atheist who denies God, or the materialist who denies the reality of Spirit, Hinduism asks, 'Find out first who or what it is that denies God or the reality of Spirit. ' Therefore rlinduism is based on the fundamental proposition, 'know thyself'. This proposition cuts across theism and atheism, materialism and agnosticism. H i n ­duism is that dialectic of thought and experience which affirms what it denies. In its conception of vastness of Truth, Hinduism recognises that there is no one road by which the human mind can reach it . . 31 That all levels of awareness of reality are acceptible, even the most mundane, those most influenced by Maya, is expressed by C o o m araswamy, rephrased in Ross, The Meaning of Life in Hinduism and B u d d h i s m , p. 35: "the doctrine of maya does not assert the in­significance of the world but stresses that as we see the world, 'extended in the order of space, time and causality', it has no static existence as a thing in itself: our partial vision is false in so far, and only in so far, as it is partial. The world has as much significance as the degree of a man's enlightenment allows him to discover in it." CHAPTER 2 THE ANALYSIS Death Summons The opera begins on an empty stage, the setting grimly a u s ­tere, scenery minimal, if present at all. Emanating from this state of vacancy, of rich 1 n o t h i n g n e s s 1, Death's call is heard, a summons incisive and piercing, made frighteningly arresting by the fact that he remains unseen. Though hidden, his presence is real and p o w e r ­ful, one that needs no physical proof of his existence. Death's opening lines, the first in the opera, carry great weight, for they immediately deliver those musical motifs that shall represent him throughout the piece, motifs heard over and over again. And in their unadorned, almost chantlike directness and their nearly relentless repetition, Death's constancy appears to be set. He is timeless and insuperable. And his formidable grasp reaches out for all that lives. With the soberness of an instrumentally unaccompanied, monophonic line, Death makes clear his sovereignty. Example 1 (mm. 1-25) And&nte B e^ en to . I im hr who lead-eth men on-w»rd, ^ I nr. the road th it each mutt tra-vel, MotifC Motif S ' 34 Example 1 (cont.) T)ea4hi ^tcerJi'no T a r f e e t f i f t h I bjii the gate that o • pens for all, Mftff C' ' i f f - . h * I f t f f I, the Sum-mon-er, Koi'.f D Whom all o «- bey, Whose word mty not be mow - e'd, Wfeoae i (_------------- -----------------------•-------- > Jf- path may not be tum-e'd * tAoilf £ (reftsimJ) wo* 14 ikut out ik* touni.) MrfV-f g- (MnUr U7ITMI «i# /tmmi i#r km*ds to U r Amd ss i f t i t I draw nigh to fu)>fil my work, Hrtif £' I SAVITRI. J» ptrUnU V-dim. e rail. ~ ........ J S A-gain, come for tfay bus - band, For him the gate doth o • pen. ^ " ■ " 'V - . 1. t Plotlf C' ( r e p e a t e d ) Certainly D e a t h's charge is here made patent. There would seem to be no question as to his power and dominion. Still, one recalls from Chapter 1 that all is not solely what it first appears to be. There is more than one way to view any situation, and the passage here is no exception. Already the music manifests a cer­tain ambivalence. As D e a t h's assertively resolute line pushes forth, symbolizing his strength and permanence, an inconstancy is also revealed, something dubious and unsettled, exhibited in part by a wavering tonal background. From the beginning, the tonal center seems to be A. The G# on the word, "Death," provides a strong leading tone and the re- suiting mode is A harmonic minor on both Motifs A and B. But when, in irrevocable duty, Death is to lead men onward (Motif C), the to­nal center itself is altered, not heightened to A#, but 'enervated* to At. This tonal ambiguity recurs in Motifs B* and C', where the pitches A and At, respectively, are again sounded. The interchange between A and Ab may also infer an entirely different tonal center- that of F, resulting in a mixing of modes, the A^ suggesting major and the Ab suggesting minor. This modal uncertainty with F as p o s ­sible pitch center, being most apparent in Motifs C and C !, also causes one to reconsider the A^ and G# in Motifs A and B, further complicating the issue of tonal center. The perfect fifth leap from A to E on "I, the Summoner" (Motif D) clearly seems to establish (or perhaps reestablish) A minor. Yet, in the phrase immediately following, the D# and C# suggest E as center. On the words, "Whose word may not be moved, Whose path may not be turned" (Motif E), where the text alone should imply an unannullable determinancy, the confused tonality is again 'underscored by implying G# phrygian. Death concludes his 'firm* allocution by a return to the tonal and modal ambivalence created by A and Ab in the final three statements of Motif C 1. A wandering sense of pitch center and of fluctuating m o d a l ­ities is not all that undermines Death's 'immutable1 strength. The melodic line itself, which outwardly is so decided and a s ­sured, is found, upon closer scrutiny, to vitiate the very d e clar­ations of the powerful master. On the line, "I am he who leadeth men onward," the melody descends, as if leading men downward or backward could well be equated with leading them forward. The 35 alteration of A to Ab in the same phrase is equally important, this lowering creating a tonal sag which causes one to speculate upon Death's ability to actually lead man anywhere at all. When Death declares that his word may not be moved, nor his path turned, it is again sung to a descending line. And as he makes clear by these words that he is changeless, that his call can be ignored by no man, and that his path cannot be averted, his G H on "turned" does indeed turn, becoming Ab one beat later. Enharmonic relationships, such as that between G# and Ab i above, occur m significant areas throughout the piece. Still, they cannot be said to be clearly evident to any listener who does not possess a copy of the music. Furthermore, even upon examin­ing the score, it would seem apparent that numerous enharmonic spellings are simply a notational expedient. Yet this will not dismiss the effect such spellings will have on the performer, e f ­fects which will be communicated in some form to the listener. Surely, any sensitive singer will interpret the G#, which has been arrived at from above, differently from the A b , which will descend to the G below. And the Ab following the G#, regardless of no t a ­tional aptness, is required in this particular spot, representing the same tonal drooping already mentioned within Motif C. Here again, the melodic line seems to contradict Death's words. The pitches, starting with the Ab (already a sagging adulteration of the A), descend as Death announces his arrival, "I draw nigh to fulfill my work." As recalled from Chapter 1, Holst mentions in his essay, The Mvstic, the Philistine, and the Artist, the visual artist's ability 36 to see beyond the tangible guise of earthly objects: "Writers have said that a great painter sees a house apart from its human rela-tionship, as a 'reality', as a thing in itself."2 Similarly, Holst has seen beyond the most immediate traits of his characters, beyond the most obvious ramifications of his story line. Death's words, on the most ostensible level, depict him as thoroughly invincible. And his music, with its plodding insistency and its innumerable re­petitions throughout the opera, would seem all the more to emphasize this picture. Yet, though quite valid, this is only one way to look at Death. The observations above show that there are other inter­pretations for these opening passages. And it is vital to comment here that the reader may have arrived at still different conclu­sions. For example, the unsettled tonality, which has been said to render questionable Death's power, may be thought to indicate his infinite nature; he may be seen as too complex to be r e p r e ­sented by one definable tonal center. The enharmonic spellings may further support such a view. Also, when the music is seen to contradict the text, such as when Death seeks to lead mortals on­ward with a stepwise descending line, the reader may recall from Chapter 1 that such contradictions do not truly exist. If up is down, and here is there, then surely one can proceed onward by going either downward or backward. These, too, are viable e x ­planations . Still, there are reasons why the writer has here chosen a particular view of Death's lines, reasons which shall be verified as the study continues. If nothing else, the reader at this point should be wary of taking any passage solely on face value. The 37 most obvious interpretations are quite pertinent, but cannot stand alone. That which seems plain becomes tenuous and equivocal. And, as H o l s t 1s music functions on many levels, Death can at once be both powerful and impotent, determined and unsteady, distinct and anomolous, all such paradoxical traits portraying him as he truly and fully is. The Tormented Savitri In response to D e a t h 1s dark beckonings, Savitri enters with her hands over her ears, the first personage to be seen on stage by the audience. Her lines are frantically anxious. And, though Death's tonal axis is far from definite, the erratically w a n d e r ­ing quasi-tonal nature of S a v i t r i !s melody instantly distinguishes her terrified frenzy from Death's seeming assurance. She is the tortured woman who fears for her husband. Death is the spectre who haunts her every thought. She and her husband are the he l p ­less prey. Death is he who pursues and claims. Yet, this conven­ient demarcation of personality traits, so well underscored by the two distinct melodic styles, is only a fraction of the picture. Unity is the composer's main issue, and already the two characters, which on one level appear to be in clear opposition, are beginning to be identified as one. The first musical device which brings Savitri and Death closer together is the contrapuntal alignment of their melodic lines. For, as Savitri's agitated wailing continues, Death, though still unseen by the audience, begins anew his call. True, the listener can d i s ­tinguish between the two vocal parts by tone quality and musical style, but the confused concurrence of two people singing at once 38 tends to obscure the details of each, merging the two into a single mass of sound. More telling, however, than the polyphonic combination of the two parts, is the inclusion of Death*s melodic motifs in S a v i t r i !s otherwise dissimilar line. All the examples below are passages from Savitri*s melodic material which have incorporated Death*s identifying motifs. 39 Example 2 (mm. 26-28) Example 3 (mm. 29-31) Example 4 4-7-48) S a v * ^ r< ' I 1--------------- ~~w - 3 5 c o m e f o r U r j - b a n d ? Derr/e^ -from C~' Example 5 (mm. 54-55) LO Example 6 (mm. 58-6 1 ) D e r i v e d C / Further mention should be made of Savitri*s phrase, nI come for thy h u s b a n d? 11 (see Example 4). Savitri is clearly linked here with Death by use of one of his melodic motifs. Yet the libretto itself contributes to the interconnection of the two characters, for here she is quoting D e a t h's very words, herself uttering that which she so fears for Satyavan. A similar instance occurs ten bars later as Savitri again appropriates both Death's music and words (see Example 6), Certainly one of the most remarkable ways in which Holst identifies Savitri with Death is through the use of a single con­cise rhythmic motif, a basic long-short-long that is represented by a variety of dotted rhythms. And in emphasis of its unique sig­nificance, this rhythmic motif, interestingly enough, sets the very first three notes of the opera, those constituting Death's Motif A. Here, without introduction or instrumental accompaniment, Death forbiddingly enunciates S a v i t r i rs name on a single pitch so as not to detract from the importance of the rhythm, making his call plain and direct. Example 7 (mm. 1-2) Death. (unseen) Sa - Tl-tril Si - ▼i-tril__A Although it is Death who first sings this motif and although it has been designated as his own Motif A, this compact musical cell, as will be further seen during the progression of the opera, is more precisely associated with Savitri, for it is her name which it so strongly proclaims. Though Motif A never occurs w i t h ­out the dotted rhythm, the rhythmic pattern itself often occurs independently, and throughout this analysis will be referred to as S a v i t r i !s dotted rhythmic motif, whether it sets a recurring single pitch as in Death's Motif A or not. Just within Death's beginning lines alone, this rhythmic m o ­tif serves to connect him three times to Savitri, for he uses that which defines Savitri, so to speak, to define himself. Example 8 is most obvious, while Examples 9 and 10 are variations or exten­sions of the basic rhythm. Example 8 (m. 6) Example 9 (mn. 10-11) V t w l W Example 10 (m. 13) / . f t Even Satyavan is included in these first few bars, being linked to both Savitri and Death where S a v i t r i 1s rhythmic motif sets the words, !1him (referring to Satyavan) the gate." Example 11 (mm. 23-25) As can be seen, H o l s t !s central theme of unity already b e ­gins to be manifest within the first measures with the linking of his characters through melodic and rhythmic motifs. But the op e n ­ing chapter speaks of an even greater unity wherein apparent poles are brought together. This richer union, too, is forecast briefly in the beginning bars as S a v i t r i fs dotted rhythmic motif sets the opposing times of day and night. Thus far employed mainly in the unification of Savitri and Death, this rhythmic motif accomplishes much broader ends than merely this. As the work proceeds, it will permeate nearly every passage, in time associating all characters emotions, and ideas, fusing some of the most apparently diverse elements into a complementary whole. This larger sense of unity, just foreshadowed here, greatly influences the spirit of the work as a whole and will be seen more fully as the opera develops. 'Rhytrk* Mrft. For kim the gate doth o - pen. Mptif C' Example 12 (m. 27) Satyavan the Victim It has been said that unity is Holst*s ideal. The manner in which he approaches the subject has been seen with the subtle as s o ­ciations thus far implied between Savitri and Death. Yet, as the opera proceeds, there is no greater example of union than that b e ­tween Savitri and her husband.^ This marvelous affinity begins to be shown as Satyavan prepares to come on stage to greet his wife. As Savitri moves toward the close of her lines, the solo cello p r e ­sents Satyavan*s Theme L. The placement of the cello is note w o r ­thy, as it enters below Savitri*s phrase, "He in whom I live," and again below the words, "Whose soul dwells in mine." The presence of Satyavan*s musical theme set beside his w i f e's words attests to the oneness of which she speaks. 43 Example 13 (mm. 54-57) Them* L Them* L The oneness demonstrated in the example above is musically punctuated nine bars later by the quick succession of both Sa v i ­tri *s and Satyavan*s names on Savitri*s now familiar dotted rhyth­mic motif, where even the pitches are identical. And the fact that it is Savitri who speaks Satyavan *s name and Satyavan who speaks Savitri*s just further emphasizes the melding of their personalities (Example 14). u Example 14 (mm, 64-68) •AVITU. The unity of husband and wife may yet be taken one step f ur­ther, perhaps even breaking down, to an extent, the distinction of sex. In the above example, Satyavan asks, "What wife in all the world is like to Savitri," and almost before he finishes his in­quiry the answer is given by Savitri herself with identical p i t c h ­es and the same rhythmic pattern. Who is like unto Savitri? S a t ­yavan, of course. Before continuing it should also be noted that Savitri's dotted rhythmic motif, which ties her in Example 14 to her husband, has functioned previously to link her with Death. This in turn, through S a v i t r i 1s rhythmic motif, serves to link Satyavan likewise to Death, a curious connection that is highly significant and will be discussed further as the analysis proceeds. S a t y a v a n 1s musical depiction is at once set apart from the tonally complex, rather nonlyrical counterpoint which has r e p r e ­sented Savitri and Death. His spirited melodic line is joyously animated, bouyantly blithesome and contented. In contrast to the plodding motivic nature of Death's phrases and Savitri's recitative like declamation, Satyavan's melodies are unabashedly lyrical and aria-like. Their human accessibility is underlined by a metrical and rhythmic verve and the attendance of relatively clear modali- Kb ties and tonal centers. The bucolic nature of folksong is instant­ly apparent here, and all musical elements coalesce to present Sat-yavan as one who is overtly guileless, unpretentious, and seeming­ly simple and uncomplicated. How effectively Holst has separated Satyavan from the dark world from which Death hails and of which Savitri has begun to e x ­perience. Once again, however, one soon sees that all is not what it appears to be on the surface. Indeed, upon closer examination, Satyavan emerges as perhaps one of the more enigmatic entities of the opera. His multi-level personality may first be recognized in the c o m p o s e r's particular use of modality and tonal center, musical techniques already cited above as presenting Satyavan as simple and direct. Wi t h S a t y a v a n fs Theme L, though E sounds clearly to be tonal center, the actual mode in use is somewhat vague. The lower tetrachord would suggest one of the forms of E major (ionian, lydian, mixol y d i a n ) , while the upper tetrachord suggests a form of E minor (aeolian or phrygian). Example 15 (mm. 61-66) SATYAVAN (m U » iu U m t* ) i - Greet - ing to thee, tnj lov - mg S i- r i- t r i -------------------- » L k ---------- j What wife ic ail the world >■ like to H ---------T Si - - tri__ T H e m e L The amalgam of major and minor in the previous example does produce a sense of modal ambiguity, yet in itself is not unique from the modal duality evident in much folk music. And Holst had been fascinated by English folksong for about five years by the time he composed Savitri.^ Of more interest is the use of in­flected or alterable scale degrees, the two chromatic varieties of a single scale member being considered equal members of the scale. The inflected degree in Example 15 is the second, which occurs as both T§ and F ^ . In Satyavan's subsequent Theme M, the Ftt and F^ are again seen to be two colors of one scale member, in this instance the sixth degree, since the tonal center has shifted to A. 46 Like a *pcc-tre o f the for - est, Nights gloom-y pall is draw-ing nigh, ------------------------------------> Example 16 (mm. 72-77) The inflected degrees in Examples 15 and 16 are especially effec­tive in bringing about an air of modal incertitude, not only by obscuring the nature of the actual mode in use, but by causing the tonal center to become vague and transcient. For instance, in Example 16, while the first phrase of Theme M is plainly set a to A dorian, the F^ in the following phrase contradicts this modal footing. These alterable scale degrees bring about more than an obfus­cating effect on modality and tonal center* Perhaps even more con­sequential is the duality they symbolize. Though F# and F£ are n o ­tated in the same spot on the staff, though they arise as two ver­sions of one scale degree, though their notational names themselves unite them, they are yet two entirely different pitches. Satyavan, so to speak, is simultaneously Fft and , two extensions of one en­tity, both of which nonetheless must be recognized. Certainly Sat­yavan must be studied more closely to uncover a duality which is at the core of his nature. To discover this duality one must look back to the opening scene. Savitri and Death, with the tight interplay of their mus- * ical material, are immediately set in conflict. Still, it is not Savitri who stands in imminent danger of this baneful visitation. It is her husband for whom Death has come; Death- the assailant, Satyavan- the subject of the inevitable. Yet here, between those two characters which should, by principle at least, be most opposed, there is a remarkable similitude. Satyavan, the victim of Death, is himself a bearer of the same. For in his hands he wields an axe, destroyer of all "the trees that stand so proudly," a weapon which "With but one stroke could lay them low." Example 17 (mm. 84-87) £>AXfA Example 17 (cont.) ^Ti* mixtc aae that, itcai-ing acax them. With but one stroke could lay them low. In this same vein, what irony fills Satyavan1s ingenuously naive words in Example 16, "Like a spectre of the forest, N i g h t's gloomy pall is drawing nigh,1' where the advance of Death's funere­al cloak is plainly intimated. So Satyavan returns to his wife, leaving behind the dark and velvety pall of Death as it covers the forest in night. Yet he carries Death with him in his hand- his axe, the dreadful claimant of tree and shrub. And as he leaves Death yonder in the forest, while he carries Death in his hands, he returns to Savitri where Death awaits him at home. The strong tie between prey and enemy is further marked by the music, where the last stage of merging identities is made sure musically Satyavan becomes Death himself. First of all, it is sig nificant that Satyavan's Theme M (Examples 16 and 17), though out­wardly distinct from Death's melodic motifs, is set upon the same center, A. This is, of course, important in itself. Yet this com mon modal placement also allows for the same perfect fifth, A-E, which set Death's declaration, "1, the Summoner," to recur in sev­eral notable spots within Satyavan's own lines. Example 18 (m. 13) The rising interval in Example 18, which shall consistently be re­ferred to as Death's perfect fifth, appears in Satyavan's Theme M, specifically on the pitches, A and E. Here he speaks to his axe, the symbol of Death becoming animate, and bids farewell to it as a friend. Yet no sooner does he discard his 'friend' than musi­cally he retrieves it, calling out to his wife on Death's rising fifth, proclaiming almost jubilantly, "To a fairer love I go." Ironically, through the use of this interval, Satyavan himself foreshadows his encounter with the Summoner, unknowingly declaring who actually awaits him at home. Example 19 (mm. 88-89) £9 D esritfs r*M. sir mu) Fftre*wcll,fri«nd, tke morn; Satyavan's use of Death's perfect fifth does more than re­late the two characters and point toward the confrontation that will arise between them. It serves also to connect Savitri with Death, for it is she to whom Satyavan calls, "So to thee I am re­turning," and "To a fairer love I go." To whom is Satyavan return­ing? Who is this fairer love? The use of the perfect fifth here strongly harks back to the phrase, "I, the Summoner," and in a sense answers our question, marking Savitri herself, the adoring wife, as an extension of Death (Example 20). 50 Example 20 (from Examples 16 and 19) SATYAVArt So to thee I 'beatK'b re • turn - £ * t y a y * h (•04t SAVITRI) To « fair • F w f t h ex ,love I go. Tne Mirror and The Nameless Unknown Once Satyavan concludes his song and greets his wife, he no­tices the presentiment and fear which darkens her countenance# Troubled, he inquires, "But thou art pale and trembling, What ails thee?" Here the latter three words, "What ails thee?," are set upon Death*s rising perfect fifth, A-E, clearly implying the an­swer to Satyavan*s question# Example 21 (mm# 97-99) 5 >rr^AvAM j-£ ------------- ti- t,- t*- ------------1-------------------------h----- r ---------- ^------------ *-------------- But thou art pale and tremb-ling, What ails thee? In response to her husband*s inquiry Savitri murmurs, "The forest is to me a mirror," making use of Death's Motif C*, reiter­ating the association between Death and the forest, as night's "gloomy pall" enshrouds the trees which stand as ultimate victims of SatyavanTs axe# Example 22 (mm. 100-101) £*T/A\/ANJ c/ Th e for - e»t to .i mmee m m»r M . t In Example 22 above, Savitri!s dotted rhythmic motif occurs on the words, "me a mirrorf 11 bringing about an important effect. For not only does the rhythm associate these words with all else that is set to this pattern, but, being now familiar and recogniz­able, it causes the specific words set upon it to stand out of textual context, to rise in relief from the surrounding words.^ Thus, in addition to identifying the forest as a mirror of Death, an important analogy in itself, Savitri has thusly labeled her­self, "me a mirror," by use of her own rhythmic motif. In addi­tion, as she sings these words by way of Deathfs Motif C*, her role as a reflection of Death is made plain and is further underscored by the instrumental repeat of this same motif in the orchestra un­der the word, "mirror." 51 Example 23 (mm. 100-102) Savitri and Death are not alone in the unifying reflection of identity seen in the preceding example. Satyavan, too, is seen in the glass. For as D e a t h !s work is fraught in the world of mor­tals, Satyavan!s workshop is the forest where he fells trees as Death claims men. Thus, the forest is a mirror of Death, of Sa­vitri, and of Satyavan, an exemplary interconnection symbolizing the larger reflection of all things in all things, the highest unity, Savitri continues her lines, "The forest is to me a mirror wherein I see another world." Considering the text alone, this phrase is replete with weighty implications. How might one gaze into a mirror and view another world? After all, mirrors are faith­ful pictures of that which they reflect. One looks into a mirror and sees oneself, or the tangible surroundings of the space in which one stands. The reproduction on the glass is as precise as the ori­ginal, so much so that, under certain circumstances, the distinction between the reflector and the reflected may be less than clear. Yet, regardless of the exactness of the image on the flat two-dimensional surface, the mirror is not fully that which it so per­fectly depicts. This is a fundamental truth one forgets when look­ing into a mirror. We see ourselves, yet it is not really ourselves that we see. Our visages, the paintings on the walls behind us, the chairs to the left, the windows to the right- when viewed in the glass they are no longer faces, walls, paintings, chairs, windows. They are said to be seen Ti n T the mirror, but what elements of the corporeal world can be perceived 'in1 a flat surface? Yes, they are real, but they lie beyond our rational ken, in some other dimension. And those things which lie beyond m a n 18 log-cal understanding defy description and labeling, they are "nameless and unknown." This is why Savitri gazes into a mirror and knows that she sees another world, one somehow different from the world so aptly pictured in the glass. There is no need for an actual mirror in Holst's story, for the world itself, the forest, Savitri, 52 53 Death, Satyavan, these are all mirrors, images, reflections, or perhaps symbols of something else. They are more than what they appear to be on the surface. On one level, they may be labeled and identified, just as Holst, in essence, labels and identifies his characters, distinguishing them from one another by use of various musical styles, motifs and themes. But such labeling, if not un­derstood for what it truly is, may be immensely misleading. For below the surface all is one, and when •All* obliterates 'other 7 everything in fact becomes nameless and unknown. • • Example 24 (mm. 100-107) S a v i i r 'l fo r -e s t is to me * mir - ror where-in 1 ace u • oth - er world, He? -r~m\ M -- -- - r - V W ^ ^ ^ As Savitri describes what she sees, "a world where all is nameless, unknown," Holst makes use of the whole tone scale (the only instance of this scale in the score) to effect a sense of equality, a reiteration of all things being the same. Even the F augmented triad outlined in the accompaniment derives from this same scale. Such a realization of oneness is often less than com­fortable, however, not only as it nullifies traditional logic, but also because it can annihilate the sense of self. Such perhaps is the horror Savitri feels as she shudders, declaring that this other world is "sick with fear." Here it is important to note that the Ctj on the word, "fear, 11 is the first pitch to depart from the whole tone setting. Apparently this other world of greater oneness and its equalizing power is not yet understood by Savitri, appearing absurd and even frightening. And the fear born of ignorance, set here by the , is not part of that fuller dimension beyond mundane nomenclatures, that dimension symbolized musically by the whole tone scale. It should be mentioned at this point that Savitri1s fear may merely be attributed to her awareness of Death and his presence everywhere she looks. After all, the forest has been set up as a mirror of Death; it seems likely that Savitri would look upon it with nameless and unspeakable fears. Such an interpretation is certainly valid, but it is only a single view, and the most obvi­ous one at that. The former view, however, that being stressed above, is one in which Death is strongly being associated with a nameless, unknown world, a world in which he may be seen as the 'passing a w a y 1 of the distinctions brought about by naming and g knowing in the intellectual sense. So, if Savitri fears Death, so too does she fear the death of the rational world. For a state of complete oneness is permeated with the ever-present death of material distinctions. When not fully comprehended, such a state, of course, becomes quite terrifying. The particular passage above (Example 24), in its astounding brevity, makes clear through several musical devices the idea of union. As already discussed, the greatest antithesis to unity is the recognition of mutually exclusive 'things', an earthly concept neutralized musically here by the whole tone scale. Another musical 54 technique employed to depict unity is the directional contour of Savitri's melodic line. On the phrase, "wherein I see another world," the melody rises stepwise. Whereas, immediately follow­ing, when Savitri reveals the characteristics of this other world, the melody descends stepwise, as if to suggest, in T.S. Eliot's words, "the way up is the way down. " 9 Such is the case, that there can be no true polar direction in an atmosphere of utter unity. Maya- The Veil of Illusion It is here in the opera, after Savitri discloses a portion of her dread premonitions to her husband, that Maya is introduced, the superlative enchantress, the queen of illusion. Satyavan im­putes his wife's black disquietude to this veiling force, maintain­ing that it is she, Maya, who subverts the sensory perceptions of humans, concealing as many aspects of the total reality as is pos­sible. At this spot in the score, the wordless chorus of female voices enters and with the chamber orchestra sounds an F minor triad, not establishing a key or tonic chord, but rather present­ing the harmonic sonority that will be identified specifically with Maya. Example 25 (m. 108) S A T r * v 4 > J lit. M IM mtamrm 55 The problem of Maya, of illusion in general, is one which bears heavily all through the opera, extensions of which will be detected in endless ramifications and levels of thought* One's awareness of her and of Holst's portrayal of her powers within the music will first allow for the realization that, due in part to illusory in­fluences, all is not what it initially seems to be. This most ob­vious aspect of Maya has already been demonstrated musically in con­nection with all three of Holst's characters. Yet Maya's sway ex­tends much further, blurring wisdom even when one has penetrated beyond the external covering of earthly perception. For even within those spiritually elevated realms which men on occasion roam, Maya also treads. It is the failure to recognize her powers even there which becomes a barb in the side of many a mystic. 10 As Satyavan continues singing of Maya, the harmonies alternate 6 between F minor and A^, both colored by chromatic oscillations which tend to obscure harmonic clarity. As was the case with the rising and falling melodic line cited in Example 24, the relationship of these two chords involves both upward and downward movement, a dual motion even more telling here because of the fact that both ascent and descent occur simultaneously. The bass line moves downward, while the upper voices, along with the implied root direction, pro­ceed upward. A further duality is brought about by a combination of both mediant and half-step relationships, the progression from F minor to A^ representing the former and the chromatic fingered tremolos re­presenting the latter. In support of the half-step relationship is the relatively strong leading tone effect between E and F in bar 108 and between BH and Cjl in bar 109 (Example 26). 56 Example 26 (ram. 108-113) S A T f A V A N is more, Look •-round - A ll that thou ■eest Trees and shrubs. The gTasj st thy feet, A ll thit w tlk i or creeps, 58 Example 26 (cont.) F m in. F m ln . Examining "the foregoing example, it. can be seen that the F minor triad underlays specifically the text which speaks of Maya herself, while the A^ sets that text referring to those aspects of the physical world which are affected by her per­nicious power. And, as Satyavan proposes, "Our bodies, our limbs, our very thoughts, we ourselves are slaves to Maya." In this vein, Holst!s notational choice on the last two state­ments of the name, Maya, is noteworthy, for the spelling itself is deceiving. The harmony in the chorus, FG#C, is merely a masking of the F minor triad, which to this point has been spelled with an At. Again, such spelling may simply be fil­ling the needs of practical notation; the half-step descent may be easier to sing if written A to G# rather than A to P.'p. Yet, if such were the case, why has not the composer chosen to 1 1 use the G# throughout? By declaring that "All is Maya," Satyavan by necessity includes himself. And as this declaration occurs upon Savi-tri's dotted rhythmic motif, and as the phrase, "Maya is more," occurs upon a variation of Death's Motif C 1, it instantly at­tests that all three characters- Death, Savitri, and Satyavan- are affected to some degree by Maya; certain features of their personalities, especially those which cause them to appear as distinct and differentiated entities, are mere extensions of the world of illusion. This point is vastly significant and should be borne in mind as the opera continues to unfold (Ex­ample 27). 59 60 Example 27 (id. 109 and mm. 110-111) Though the mother of illusion has been revealed as one whose powers prevent humanity from ascertaining truth from fantasy, Sat­yavan, in the next few lines, conjectures that there may yet exist some vehicles of reality. Example 28 (mm. 113-125) S>j\tva>/an A**grio. 61 Example 28 (cont.) "Love to the lover, The child to the mother, the song to the singer, God to the worshipper. These wand-ring thro1 the world of Maya are perchance shadows of that which is." The hope inher­ent in such words is superbly expressed in Holst's melodic writ­ing, which becomes warmly lyrical in sharp contrast to the reci-tative- like line which precedes. This faith and yearning aspira­tion is wonderfully reflected in the continuous rising of the mel­odic line, a striving upward reach which attains its summit on the word, "God." It is amazing here how well Holst has carried the listener along, as if, in the heat of impassioned hope, Maya has been d e ­bilitated. But such is not so. One may believe that he has un­masked fantasy and left it behind, moving forth to higher and more rarefied levels of awareness, seeing truth in love, motherhood, music, deity. But, as stated before, Maya's dominion is ample, it extends in some degree to even the higher planes of understand­ing. Even holy divinity, as perceived by man, cannot escape, for as Satyavan lights gloriously upon "God," the orchestra immediate- 6 ly stops, only to come in one beat late on A^, the very sonority which Holst has used previously to represent those elements of currently suggests an F# minor-seventh chord, creating an air of harmonic ambivalence* The lines of hopeful expectancy, so fervid­ly delivered just moments ago, have been somewhat qualified. For, not only are these possible conveyors of truth mere shadows of re­ality, but reality or, as.Satyavan phrases it, "that which is," remains harmonically unclear because shadows are only distorted likenesses, misshapen in symmetry and size, and, being flat like a mirror, missing certain dimensions from the original. Example 29 (mm. 125-127) 63 f\ Major or p # fl'mor 7ik Before continuing, one should consider the harmony occur­ring on the phrase, "These wand-ring thro' the world of Maya are perchance shadows of that which is." The C§ in the melody, when sounded against the minor third, F-Ab, in the orchestra, is seen to obscure what is simply a major triad in first inversion (ex­ample 30). 64 Example 30 (mm. 122-124) These wand-ring thro' the world of Mj . ya XT f ------ -------- It is noteworthy that the Db major triad above was the first vertical harmony to occur in the opera. It arose when Death1s Motif A 9 set to Savitri*s rhythmic motif, appeared in the viola, sounding an Ab joined three bars later by Db and F in the flutes. This initial harmony is made even more salient by the fact that it coincides with the first instrumental entry of the piece. Before this spot the music had been solely vocal. Immediately, this Db triad is associated with Death due to the presence of his Motifs A and C T. Example 31 (mm. 43-48) The next time the Db major triad occurs is just eight bars later when Savitri sings of the oneness between her husband and herself, "He in whom I live," Thus, within the space of a few bars, this 65 triadic harmony has been associated with all three of Holst's characters, Example 32 (mm, 54-57) 'ftTr The composer has appropriately chosen the Db harmony to set Satyavan*s phrase, "These wand-ring t h r o1 the world of Maya," for, through the text and the harmony with its confused enharmonic spelling, he has equated Death, Savitri, and Satyavan with all which must roam M a y a's domain. To further emphasize M a y a's hold over those who wander her kingdom, it shall be remembered that the sonority of F minor has specifically been connected with Maya. If the CH in the vocal line is not considered as a chord tone, the F and Ab in the orchestra clearly suggest the F minor triad. Example 33 (mm. 122-124) ftATTAVAJL dim Satyavan, due to the fact that it is he who is singing in Example 33, is especially linked to Maya, warning the listener that what he says cannot be taken at face value alone. This, of course, is not the first time the woodsman has been related to the bewil­dering sway of illusion. Already discussed are the uncertainties revealed in his Themes L and M, melodies which on an outward level appeared so candid and straightforward. These uncertainties are in fact foreshadowed by his wife before Satyavan even comes on stage. Savitri calls out her husband!s name, referring to his strength and courage, "Satyavan, He the strong and fearless one." Yet curiously enough, the sustained harmony in the strings and winds is the F minor triad, the musical symbol of Maya, a pre­sence which instantly renders Savitri!s description of her hus­band suspect, a description which emphasizes Satyavanfs unique­ness and thus his distinction as a separate entity. 66 Example 34 (mm. 4-9-51) In addition to the emasculating effect this harmony has on Satyavan*s supposed strength and courage, its particular placement within the piece is equally significant. Just four bars previous is the Db major triad mentioned in Example 31 as the first harmony to appear in the opera, one which links Holst's three main char­acters. Following this DJ> is an A minor triad, the root of which serves as tonal center for Death's opening motifs. The A minor triad is then succeeded by another Db triad, which in turn leads directly into the F minor triad seen in Example 34 above. In short, the first three harmonies of the opera, within five bars, keenly link Savitri, Satyavan, and Death together, relinquishing 12 all three to the all-enveloping powers of Maya. Example 35 (mm. 44-51) It may be felt that the writer has set too much importance upon the placement of harmonies and their relationship to the li­bretto. Still# it should be noted that in an harmonic background largely characterized by either ambivalent or nonexistent tonali­ties, with no great abundance of tertial structures, at least not in this portion of the score, the triad forms referred to above are somewhat unique. They have no bond with one another tonally or functionally, so there must be some other reason for their use; the composer1s choice cannot be considered arbitrary. Holst was 1 3 an extraordinarily fastidious composer, ' and a random selection of harmonies to casually underlay any part of the text is not in keeping with his compositional approach. With this in mind, it may safely be assumed that the harmonies discussed here and else­where are definitely significant. The writer}s interpretation of this significance, though one among others, is consistent with the overall spirit of the work and will be further justified as the analysis proceeds. The Circle of Death Once Satyavan has charged that it is Maya who has ensnared his wife, tormenting her with illusory phantoms, Savitri almost regretfully declares that it is not so. Her terrors are not the result of illusions. The horrors that beset her are apparently those of a greater reality. She perceives that black truth which, lying beneath the colorful but pacifying surface, permeates all that is: "Once I knew Maya, Now she is forgot, Mine eyes are open, would they were shut, I see the heart of ev-ry tree, pale with terror, The elves that dance upon the grass blades crouching earthward." Example 36 (mm. 128-132) S a v i t r i 68 Once 1 knew Mi - ji, Now the » for. 69 Example 36 (cont.) paJe wrtb ter-ror, The d m that ikncc up-on the g n u bla<ie* CTOuclnng earth - wird Savitri continues, and, not believing that her husband can­not sense the doom which to her is so evident, she asks, "Dost thou not feel? Ah! Canst thou not see? 11 Still not knowing of what she speaks, Satyavan responds, "I see nought. What ails thee?" Death!s presence is more than clear musically as Motif B enters in its or­iginal key, yet Satyavan still senses nothing, while his wife seems to see all. Example 37 (mm. 133-135) What, however, does Savitri really see? She believes her vision carries her beyond the spurious world of Maya. She sees the blackness that none else perceive. She sees Death, the in­evitable claimant of all that lives. But Death, through his re- lationship with Savitri and her husband, and directly with Maya as well, has already been connected with illusion. If Savitri sees Death, viewed as the expropriator of souls, it is not the highest reality she sees. Indeed, within the final bars of the opera, Death is disclosed as perhaps the most subtly bewitching artifice of Maya herself. In answer to her husband*s ignorance, Savitri declares, "He doth come." Whereupon Satyavan defiantly asks, 11 He? Whom dost thou mean? A foe?" Still Satyavan does not realize the presence of Death, even though his own line, by use of D e a t h !s rising per­fect fifth, A-E, makes plain the nature of nis foe. 70 Example 38 The following bars proceed to merge Satyavan with Death in a most remarkable manner. Instantly in defense, Satyavan lifts his axe and seeks his foe, carrying Death in his hands to kill Death in the forest- the forest which conceals Death from Sat­yavan and which is home to the trees for which Satyavan himself is Death. The axe, as an emblem of Death, is again reiterated when, upon D e a t h fs rising fifth, A-E, Satyavan cries out, "Mine axe,n patently equating the weapon with the enemy it seeks. And Satyavan, as the wielder of Death, is made clear just one bar later as Savitri cries out, "Satyavan," again on a rising perfect fifth. 71 Example 39 (mm. 133-145) 72 Example 39 (cont.) Studying the foregoing example, it can be seen that even tonality fuses Death and Satyavan, Death's Motif B having entered in A minor at the beginning of the example and Satyavan !s Theme M following in a derivative of the same mode, dorian, and on the same tonal center, A. The grand paradox has been established with- out question. Music and text both aver explicitly that Death ar.d Satyavan are one, hunter and prey are the same. Savitri too, however, is included in this fusion, for, just as the tonal footing of A has linked Death and Satyavan, that of E links Death to Savitri. As Satyavan explodes in a rage toward his prospective opponent, who he has yet to see, he does so by use of his own Theme M in its original tonality, A dorian. When Sat­yavan first sang Theme M, it concluded with an abrupt tonal shift to E major/minor, in which tonality Theme L commenced as he joy­ously proclaimed, "Home unto thee, my loving Savitri." When Theme M was repeated just moments later, it was again succeeded by the same shift from A to E, this time setting the phrase, "Greeting to thee my loving Savitri." Indeed, each time Theme L has occurred thus far, it has been in connection with Satyavan's warm salutations to his beloved wife. 73 Example 40 Greet - in g __ to thee itit lov - irg S i - r i - t r i : ' L ~ E r l i j / n i n To this point in the opera, E major/minor has only been used to set Satyavan*s Theme L, this tonal area therefore being associ­ated only with Savitri and the endearing sentiments her husband has for her. In Example 41 below, as Satyavan seeks after his enemy, using his Theme M, the identical shift from A dorian to E major/minor takes place. But where he previously sang blithe-fully of returning home to his beloved wife, he now cries out in reference to his axe and to its attack on Death, "It thirsteth for thy lifeblood." Now the adoring wife herself is entwined in the confused tangle of Death pursuing Death. Example 41 (mm. 142-145) Savitn Nty, wr*th 74 M - A D o r ia n (^,'tk C* Even without the music, the text alone in the previous ex­ample strongly portrays a unique circle of Death. Satyavan pro­claims that his axe hungers for D e a t h fs overthrow, it thirsteth for D e a t h fs lifeblood. Irony is obvious enough as Satyavan's axe, itself a symbol of Death, hungers to overthrow Death. But this irony is taken even further when the text implies that Death is a living creature, that he possesses "lifeblood," Even if this im­plication is seen as the result of Satyavan not knowing who his enemy is, the suggestion is still unmistakable. Yet, is this pushing the concept of unity too far? Surely it would seem that Death and Life could not be related in this way. Still, the unity of Holst's mysticism and the unity of the Hindu writings from which he draws this story is not selective, it cannot be qualified, it encompasses all. Therefore, Life and Death must not be the poles one assumes them to be. If seen as opposites, they are nothing more than extensions of Maya. Certainly one of the great moments in the opera is the final unmasking of the supposed antagonist, the identification of Death as something much different than the irre­vocable annihilator. Death Becomes Flesh As regards Death and his perhaps tenuous connection with re­ality, it is vital to note that, though the weight and immensity of his presence is strongly felt by all, he has not yet appeared on stage. His opening lines, so well fixed in the listener's mind, are uttered from a distance, the speaker himself not being seen b^ the audience. Even the orchestra which frequently repeats his in- 75 delible motifs is hidden from sight. Nonetheless, through the music, Death has been made as tangible as the characters which can clearly be seen. The time, however, has come for Death to materialize, a sense of presence now becoming incarnate before the viewer. He is now to become palpable, not a vague event or indescribable occurrence which takes place at some point in a per­son s existence, but an actual being, an idea personified. After Satyavan1s foolishly heroic outburst, Death slowly ap­pears. Drawing nigh, his victim staggers, dropping his axe. Here, if nowhere previously, Death is made real. To see him, it would seem, would make more certain his actuality. Yet the music does not support such a tangibly visual fact, for as Death enters he is accompanied in the orchestra by his own Motif B in F minor, the tonal symbol of Maya. Also, Death becomes musically removed from himself by the fact that it is not he who renders his motivic ma­terial when he appears before the audience. It is the orchestra which delivers his themes while he remains silent. We see Death, and, in seeing him, he becomes physically embodied. But perhaps the most powerful illusions are not those which take on the na­ture of dreams and fantasies, but rather those which pass as cor­poreal forms in a material world which accepts such things as real. Example 1*2 (mm. H 6 - H 9 ) 76 fiU 4*4 f§JU fr*M kit JUmJ: I• tUfgwrt As Satyavan falters, he calls painfully to his wife, "Savitri, Savitri, my arm is powerless." It has been made clear that Savitri and Satyavan are one, insomuch as that which threatens one threatens both. Here again, the use of the characteristic interval of a fifth unites husband and wife. Yet, in this instance, it also bespeaks the peril that will effect them both, for the interval is disfig­ured, the perfect fifth constricted to a tritone. Furthermore, the fatal arrival of Death has turned the fifth about, it descends from D to Afc as Satyavan calls his wife's name. Savitri employs the same two pitches, rising from D to Afc> as she runs to aid her husband. 77 Example 4-3 (mm. 148-150) The use of the same interval and the same pitches in such close succession well reveals the danger that imperils both char­acters. Yet the significance of these two pitches and the special qualities inherent in the tritone itself are just as important. First, it will be noticed that Satyavan's tritone descends while Savitri's rises, the pitches D to At being identical in each. This reaffirms the notion of downward and upward motion being syn­onymous. But the particular interval involved thoroughly proves this to be the case. For the tritone, whether rising or falling, does not change upon inversion: up or down, two apparently unre- concilable extremes are indeed the same. What better method to unify Satyavan and his wife than to do so within an equalization of polarities. Upon recognition of such musical unification, it is almost needless to add that both descending and ascending tri­tones are set to Savitri*s dotted rhythmic pattern. It should be mentioned here that, on one level, the tritone can be seen as representing evil or danger, as it has done through­out centuries of tone painting. Deathfs presence does support such an interpretation. Yet, considering the analysis so far, the tritone and its particular usage here must also be recognized as a reflection of the unity between Satyavan and his wife. Within the next nine bars, Holst succeeds remarkably in mu­sically bringing together the three characters in a mass of con­trapuntal interplay. The orchestra delivers all of Death's main motifs, not in horizontal order, but stacked upon each other in stretto fashion. As Motif B repeats in the lower strings in F minor, Motifs A and C* occur above in the English horn in D minor, followed by Motif E in Ab phrygian. Savitri*s and Satyavan!s lines when taken alone randomly suggest several harmonies or tonalities. For example, Satyavanfs line, ''Savitri, where art thou?," outlines F minor, while Savitri !s phrase, 111 am with thee, my arms are round thee," implies Bb or possibly Eb major. The only tertian sonority that recurs with any consistency is the D diminished tri­ad. This chord is rather crucial, for it unifies the three main tonalities within which Death's motifs occur: D, F, and Ab« It thus reconciles the tonal diversity of Death's melodic material within one harmonic unit (Example 44)* 78 79 Example 44 (mm. 146-158) Si - ri-tri, mine «xini» pov'r-lev. f f n l h /rvwt Ail Und: k* it*ggrr$. S*t - yi * Tin.____ n S a v ' r t r i f K h ^ «■* i « » J w - - - - - ^ - - p - ■ ■■ « = ^ , Sfct-ym - van -f~------ - » ,---- i ------------------------ ^-5---------- *-------- -4 ^ . . . . . ■* d 8 £ M *> * ;£ > -------------------------- : -J ■■- ------------- L ~ - * 2 M i n . ^ _ V ' * - ; . 4 . 4 - 4 4 - ^ _ Q _ 80 Example 44 (cont.) The D diminished triad, which consolidates the tonalities of Death's motivic material in the preceding example, serves also to unite him with Savitri and Satyavan. For husband and wife, and the mutual jeopardy that awaits their, both, have been closely linked by the descending and ascending tritone noted above in Example 43 > specifically employing the pitches D and A b . And it is just this interval and the D diminished triad which it encompasses which dom­inates the harmony throughout this passage. So it is, that through melody, rhythm, and harmony, Holst has brought order to an area of contrapuntal complexity, unifying musical and dramatic divergencies. And, once again, the composer manifests his ability to create a passage that functions success­fully on more than one level. Here, the most obvious aspects of the polyphonic independence of lines and ideas stun and intrigue the ear, dramatically distinguishing each character, setting them apart while at the same time pitting them against one another. Yet, from another vantage point and upon a different plane, this seeming autonomy of individual lines and the conflict developed between them is recognized rather as a multiplex extension of one central musical and dramatic idea. Savitri's Lullabv At the close of the vividly graphic scene described above, Satyavan at last sinks to the ground, his final debilitated mel­odic rise from A't> to BVV superbly depicting the enervating effect of Death's arrival. In answer to Satyavan's expiring wail, "Savi­tri where art thou?," his wife commences an endearing lullaby, a sublime song of vigilance and devotion. The line is simple and naturally lyrical, but not passionately so; Savitri here displays no intemperate sorrow or inordinate alarm. In contrast to the an­xiety she has thus far exhibited, her mood is calm, almost as if she has not yet accepted the full meaning of Death's coming. 81 Example 45 (mm. 159-175) 82 Example 45 (cont.) In the preceding example, the melodic nature of Savitri!s lullaby of devotion is tranquil and reassuring, presenting a re­latively clear and simple formal structure of repeated motifs and phrases. In fact, this staid arietta represents Savitrirs only lines which are not essentially through-composed. Its beauty is, indeed, direct and accessible. The text of Savitrifs lullaby is of interest as well. The first lines, "I am with thee, my arms are round thee, Thy thoughts are mine, My spirit dwells with thee," reaffirms the affinity of Savitri and her husband. It is with the next phrases, however, that the ideal of union is made most telling, complete oneness being seen as the bringing together of presumed opposites: "When thou art weary I am watching, When thou sleepest I am waking, When in sorrow I am near making it a thing of joy." With these words, it would seem as if Satyavan represents one pole and Savitri its counterpart. But* as husband and wife are one, these poles become complementary rather than opposed, fused in cooperative accord. Of especial note here in Savitri's lullaby and later on, is Holst!s use of pedal tones, their singular aural effect of equal­izing all other musical elements, or perhaps even neutralizing or 'absorbing* them, being highly suggestive of unity. In addition, any lengthy sustained tone becomes a 'presence', one which influ­ences all that takes place about it, one which is constant even though it may be recognized only on a subconscious level after it has persisted for quite some time. Thus, Savitri1s melodic line and the words which she sings, though both clearly distinct and intelligible, are perhaps not exclusively significant in and of themselves. Perhaps they are not only to stand out individually in relief, but also to be recognized as part of a larger whole, extensions of an essence which is reflected in the ever-present pedal tone. The composer's use of pedals as the opera progresses shall render more clear this observation. As has already been seen, Holst's opera unfolds simultane­ously on more than one level, that which is readily discernible accompanied by wbat is more subtle and penetrating. The former is often rpade rnanifest in the most ostensive musical differentia- 83 tion of characters, another example of which occurs at the close of Savitrifs lullaby. Here, as Savitri continues in D dorian, Death's Motif B enters in FH minor, the eliding of the contrast­ing tonal areas serving well to set the two characters apart. Example 4-6 (mm. 172-175) 84 S a v i t r i Once Death's proximity has again been made clear by the in­strumental recurrence of his melodic material and by the fact that he continues to draw ever nearer Savitri and her prostrate husband, the woman turns from her idyllic song of nurturing affection to darker lines, solemnly murmuring the followin