Then, Silence

by Caleb Deupree In interviews Bernhard Günter has acknowledged an increasing debt to his predecessors, Luigi Nono and Morton Feldman. Feldman's influence is easy to hear: both composers share a predilection for very quiet sounds, static harmonies, and relatively few significant events (Günter has cited the pizzicatos in Feldman's second-string quartet as examples of these remarkable events). Nono's works that have the most influence are not the big political epics, but the delicate, late writing for strings, such as "Fragmente-Stille, an Diotima" and "La Lontananza Nostalgica Utopica Futura." Given the string-writing of both of his influences, it is unsurprising that string harmonies dominate this homage and that, more than in any previous work, the origin of the sounds in string-writing is readily apparent. Twice during the work, Günter uses a slow, plaintive melody for cello or viola, a melody quietly echoed near the end of the work, and much of the work is couched in a gauzy haze sounding like a string orchestra. The piano, another of Feldman's favorite instruments, is prominent in other sections, such as the prepared piano interlude near the beginning, and sounds that could originate in a dampened piano, or even piano harmonics. But all is not soft focus -- other references to Nono's work include a metallic screeching similar to the metal plates used in "A Floresta é Jovem e Cheja de Vida," and the harmonies in some sections become quite thick and microtonal. This work is Günter's least-electronic-sounding work, a peaceful tribute to two of the 20th century's greatest composers.