Three Psalms, Liturgia sacra, Fragments: the Last Works in Zygmunt Mycielski's Oeuvre¹

The 1980s brought large-scale compositions for voices and instruments in Zygmunt Mycielski's oeuvre: works such as Psalms for baritone, choir and orchestra (1982–83), Liturgia sacra for choir and orchestra (1983–84), as well as Fragmenty [Fragments] for choir and small orchestra, to words by Juliusz Słowacki (1986–87), which proved to be the last piece written by the composer. There was also the miniature Wieczne odpoczywanie [Eternal Rest] for mixed choir or solo voice and harmonium (1983–84) and the cycle Eight Songs to Words by Zbigniew Herbert for baritone and piano (1984). In addition, the artist wrote orchestral pieces: Fantasia for orchestra (1981) and his sixth and final symphony, Ostatnia [Last Symphony] (1985–86). This list alone demonstrates the creative potential revealed by Mycielski in his late period. He had never composed so much before. Only now, as an aged composer, did he write his largest works and take up the most important themes. As a result, he created his most significant works in Psalms and Liturgia sacra. Liturgia sacra in particular, performed for the first time at the 1986 Warsaw Autumn Festival, was hailed as Mycielski's greatest compositional achievement. The work brought him the Polish Composers’ Union Prize as well as the prestigious ‘Solidarity’ Award. It was a moment of the composer's long-awaited triumph. Mycielski welcomed it, slightly surprised, with characteristic reserve. In late January 1987 he wrote to Andrzej Panufnik: ‘You have a wonderful “phase” – I don’t doubt, with your oeuvre, and I – a local success with the Liturgy and the Psalms.’

Zygmunt Mycielski to Andrzej Panufnik, Warsaw, 30/31 January 1987, in B. Bolesławska-Lewandowska (ed.), Zygmunt Mycielski – Andrzej Panufnik. Korespondencja [Correspondence], part 2: Lata [The Years] 1970–1987, Warszawa, Instytut Sztuki PAN, 2018, p. 246.

In this article I would like to take a closer look at three compositions for voices and instruments written by Zygmunt Mycielski towards the end of his life. Three Psalms, Liturgia sacra, and Fragments are works drawing on religious themes. The first two are based on Biblical Latin texts, the last one features Juliusz Słowacki's verses selected from the volume Ja, Orfeusz [I, Orpheus] – a secular text but one that draws on the theme of Christmas.

J. Słowacki, Ja, Orfeusz [I, Orpheus], M. Bizan (ed.), Warszawa, Państwowy Instytut Wydawniczy, 1974.

As Barbara Mielcarek-Krzyżanowska stresses:

These compositions: Three Psalms, Liturgia sacra and Fragments, recognised and well received by critics (whose response to earlier, relatively infrequent performances of Mycielski's works had been rather cold) brought the composer a kind of inner comfort, a reassurance that his creative decisions had been right.

B. Mielcarek-Krzyżanowska, ‘Pastorałka dramatyczna Juliusza Słowackiego i jej muzyczna interpretacja we Fragmentach Zygmunta Mycielskiego’ [‘Juliusz Słowacki's Dramatic Christmas Scene and Its Musical Interpretation in Zygmunt Mycielski's Fragments’], Res Facta Nova, no. 21 (30), 2020, p. 19.

These works represent, according to Mieczysław Tomaszewski's classification, a late or even the final phase in the composer's oeuvre.

M. Tomaszewski, ‘O drodze twórczej, jej progach i fazach, przemianach i fiksacjach – po raz wtóry’ [‘Once More about the Creative Path: Its Thresholds and Stages, Transformations and Fixations’], in M. Tomaszewski, 12 spojrzeń na muzykę polską wieku apokalipsy i nadziei. Studia, szkice, interpretacje [Twelve Glances at Polish Music in the Age of the Apocalypse and Hope. Studies, Sketches, Interpretations], Kraków, Akademia Muzyczna, 2011, pp. 23–34.

At the same time, they correspond well to reflections on late style in art contained in Edward W. Said's last, relatively recent publication.

E.W. Said, On Late Style: Music and Literature Against the Grain, London, New York, Bloomsbury, 2017; first published in Great Britain 2006, foreword M.C. Said, introd. M. Wood.

How do Zygmunt Mycielski's works in question relate to both research perspectives indicated here? In order to answer this question, let us take a closer look at them.

In the early 1980s Zygmunt Mycielski felt that time had come to musically explore the world of the most important and most sacred religious texts. Asked by Elżbieta Markowska about the reasons behind this turn towards religious-themed music, he replied simply: ‘[...] as you get old, you should tackle important matters’.

E. Markowska, Z. Mycielski, ‘Dwie rozmowy’ [‘Two Conversations’], Res Facta Nova, no. 1 (10), 1994, p. 39.

And then he added: ‘I’m not saying that music is not serious, but sacred music is something very serious indeed, something that has endured for thousands of years.’

Markowska, Mycielski, ‘Dwie rozmowy’.

Elsewhere, when asked about the Psalms and Liturgia sacra, he said: ‘Something like this had to be written.’

‘Najbardziej cenię sztukę płynącą w sposób naturalny. Z Zygmuntem Mycielskim rozmawia Jan Stęszewski’ [‘What I Value Most Is Natural Flow of Art’], Ruch Muzyczny, no. 13, 1987, p. 2.

As a result, both these large works, Three Psalms and Liturgia sacra, were written basically over the course of two years, between 1982 and 1984 (although Mycielski was considering the first psalm already in late 1980). Barbara Mielcarek-Krzyżanowska, who has studied religious themes in Mycielski's oeuvre thoroughly (in both fully composed pieces and unfinished sketches

See B. Mielcarek-Krzyżanowska, ‘Sacrum w muzyce Zygmunta Mycielskiego. Od religijnego tematu do religijnego przeniknięcia’ [‘The Sacred in Zygmunt Mycielski's Music. From a Religious Theme to Being Permeated by the Sacred’], in B. Bolesławska-Lewandowska, B. Mielcarek-Krzyżanowska and G. Oliwa (eds), Człowiek, myśl, muzyka. Wokół postaci i twórczości Zygmunta Mycielskiego [The Human, Thought, Music. Around the Figure and Work of Zygmunt Mycielski], Rzeszów, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Rzeszowskiego, 2019, pp. 114–130; B. Mielcarek-Krzyżanowska, ‘Pastorałka dramatyczna…’; B. Mielcarek-Krzyżanowska, ‘“Lignum vitae” – Zygmunt Mycielski czyta Księgę Rodzaju’ [‘“Lignum vitae” – Zygmunt Mycielski Reads the Book of Genesis’], in A. Nowak (ed.), Dzieło muzyczne wobec tradycji kulturowych [The Musical Work in the Context of Cultural Traditions], Bydgoszcz, Akademia Muzyczna im. Feliksa Nowowiejskiego, 2021, pp. 123–136.

), believes that Mycielski's choice of that subject was a manifestation of a long process which led to an ‘awakening of long dormant deism and a return to the Catholic Church’.

B. Mielcarek-Krzyżanowska, ‘W kręgu kultury judeochrześcijańskiej: Trzy Psalmy Zygmunta Mycielskiego’ [‘In the Realm of Judeo-Christian Culture: Zygmunt Mycielski's Three Psalms’], in A. Nowak (ed.), Interpretacje dzieła muzycznego. W kontekście kultury [Interpretations of the Musical Work. In the Context of Culture], Bydgoszcz, Akademia Muzyczna im. Feliksa Nowowiejskiego, 2017, p. 198.

This corresponds to Bohdan Pociej's idea of the effect of a ‘long road, internal evolution’

B. Pociej, ‘Próby utrwalenia. Liturgia sacra Zygmunta Mycielskiego’ [‘An Attempt to Preserve. Zygmunt Mycielski's Liturgia sacra’], Ruch Muzyczny, no. 25, 1986, p. 7.

of the composer. An evolution towards God and ultimate matters viewed in the context of faith and Roman Catholic religion in its pre-Vatican II rite, as suggested by Mycielski's choice of Latin (rather than Polish) texts. This was a return to a Church in which Mycielski had been brought up and the rite of which appealed to his religious sensibility the most, even at moments of doubt. The composer himself confessed in 1986: ‘I wrote the Psalms and the Liturgia driven by a way – and only that way which leads not to some aesthetics but to a mystery. We can call this mystery the mystery of existence or being – words do not matter here’.

Z. Mycielski, Niby-dziennik ostatni 1980–1987 [The Last Mock-Diary, 1980–1987], ed. B. and J. Stęszewski, afterword Z. Mycielska-Golik, Warszawa, Iskry, 2012, entry for 13 August 1986, p. 607.

Speaking of the Psalms, the conductor Jerzy Katlewicz, who led a performance of Psalm XII at the 1984 Warsaw Autumn and recorded the first and second Psalms for Polish Radio in January 1985, said: ‘When it comes to the score of the Three Psalms, I was struck by the use of simple musical means, of a modern melody and harmony, which drew at the same time on Gregorian chant. It was a fusion of epochs, a link between the old and the new times.’

A. Szypuła, ‘Mycielski zbliżył się do ponadczasowych wartości sztuki’ [‘Mycielski Has Come Close to Art's Timeless Values’], interview with the conductor Jerzy Katlewicz, Kamerton, no. 4, 1992, p. 9.

The composer indeed wanted to convey the mystery and the spirit of the oldest sacred music by means of his own, contemporary musical language. Working intensely on the first of the psalms (Psalm XLII: Introibo), he wrote: ‘Fifths, fourths, octaves, fascination with pure intervals. These are some “eternal” sounds. Sounding intuitively (?) in Gregorian chant in what is not yet art but is music.’

Mycielski, Niby-dziennik ostatni, entry for 4 February 1982 [Konstancin], p. 163.

Although he combined these pure sounds with dissonant second and seventh chords, he sought to achieve a similarly spiritual mood. In his composition process, he was guided by the text. In the programme note for Psalm XII he explained: ‘In vocal works I make sure that there is a close link between the music and the text. Not consonants or vowels, which are pronounced differently in different languages, but the text carrying some content.’

Note about the work published in the programme book of the 1984 Warsaw Autumn Festival, p. 14.

This was the most important element for him. That is why what is of prime importance in his works is understanding the words, making sure that the words reach the listener. The same goes for the psalms. In the same note Mycielski added:

I include here the Latin text from the Vulgate, in which the Psalm is sung, and the Polish text, in Father Jakób [sic] Wujek's sixteenth-century translation, hoping that the listener will read it and follow it when listening to the piece. I know that in music – even despite excellent diction – words get blurred. I know that there are thousands of masterpieces in which the words do not matter, especially to the listeners. Yet I also know that there is a world in which the meaning of the text is inextricably linked to the music. The music comments on, adds to, and expresses what the composer read in the text. [...] These matters are important to the composer, to the performer, and to the listener.

Programme book of the 1984 Warsaw Autumn.

However, press reports after the premiere of Psalm XII were rather lukewarm. Krzysztof Baculewski – following, as a matter of fact, the composer's own statement that a performance of the middle of the three psalms was a little like ‘a bit of the torso without the head and the legs’

Programme book of the 1984 Warsaw Autumn.

– noted: ‘Dark colours, a calm, not to say monotonous, musical narrative, Andrzej Hiolski's moving vocal solo in the same vein – all this could not have given us an idea of the whole, which is certainly more contrasted in nature.’

K. Baculewski, ‘Pod znakiem muzyki polskiej’ [‘Under the Banner of Polish Music’], Ruch Muzyczny, no. 23, 1984, p. 6.

We have to agree here. For example, we perceive the mood of this central Psalm differently if we know the Introibo (Psalm XLII), which opens the cycle.

Above all, the opening piece is written for choir and orchestra alone. The solo baritone voice only emerges in the second psalm, bringing important expressive contrast. The Introibo, Psalm XLII, is a strong, dramatic opening of the cycle. The text of the initial antiphon: ‘Introibo ad altare Dei’ (‘I will go up to the altar of God’

The words cited here and below come from the Latin text attached by the composer to the score and the English translation – from King James Version.

) appears in bar three, with the word ‘Introibo’ repeated expressively in unison on the note c¹. It is accompanied by second and seventh chords in the low strings (G-F#-f# in the double basses, cellos and violas) and the winds, some of which enhance the sound of the choir with repeated c¹-g¹ fifths (trumpets, two horns), while other instruments (trombones, two horns, bassoons) repeat g-f# second chords. From the very first notes this combination creates expressive tension, skilfully exploited by the composer later on.

Mycielski follows the content of the successive verses of the psalm, stressing the meanings of the words with music. Hence the increased density and expressiveness (dissonances, smaller rhythmic values, loud dynamics) in fragments referring to God's judgement over the ‘wicked and treacherous man’, in fragments such as ‘Judica me, Deus, et discerne causam meam’ (‘Judge me, o God, and plead my cause’) and ‘Quis tu es, Deus, fortitudo mea quare me repulisti’ (‘For thou art the God of my strength: why dost thou cast me off’). On the other hand, in sections referring to hope pinned on the Lord, the music becomes brighter. The words ‘Spera in Deo’ (‘Hope in God’) are thus accompanied by perfect consonances (fifths, fourths and octaves) as well as a phrase which is clearly chorale-like in character. The last verses of the psalm lead to a culmination – from the imitatively introduced ‘Adiutorium nostrum’ (‘Our help’) to the strong, sempre forte repetitions of the words ‘Qui fecit celium et terram’ (‘Who made heaven and earth’). ‘Et terram’ is repeated a few more times, interspersed with orchestral chords. The orchestra remains on its own at the end and, repeating the chord-based rhythm with full ff volume, closes the whole triumphantly.

In this context, Psalm XII for baritone, choir and orchestra brings peace and calm. ‘Uquequo, Domine, oblivisceris me in finem?’ (‘How long wilt thou forget me, o Lord, for ever?’), asks the composer after the poet. The solo voice delivers the text in the form of a melo-declamation, concentrating on conveying the verbal meanings as much as possible. Coupled with the dissonant chords of the orchestra that accompanies the soloist as well as the modest choral part, the work becomes a vivid recitative, expressively intense at times. At the end, after yet another repetition of the last word, ‘Altissimi’ (‘The Most High’; the whole verse reading: ‘et psallam nomini Domini altissimi’ – ‘I will sing to the name of the Lord the Most High’), chanted by the choir (which moves from g multiplied in octaves through the f#-a minor third to the final, likewise octave-tripled f#: f#-f#¹-f#²), the whole ends again with multiplied chords of the orchestra. The notes of the g-c pure fifth are juxtaposed in these chords with f#-c and f-c# diminished fifths overlapping with them and multiplied in octaves.

The beginning of Psalm XIII, which closes the cycle, brings a major expressive change. It opens with a lively, highly rhythmical orchestral introduction leading to a slower part likewise marked by minor rhythms. The choir introduces the text of the psalm: ‘Dixit insipiens in corde suo: Non est Deus’ (‘The fool hath said in his heart: There is no God’) in similarly rhythmical phrases. There are also elements of dialogue (choral phrases alternate with the solo voice) as well as polyphonic techniques (e.g. imitative voice-leading in the choir). Human anxiety illustrated in this manner is contrasted with choral phrases referring to God: ‘Dominus de coelo prospexit’ (‘The Lord looked down from heaven’) and ‘Quoniam Dominus in generationis justa es’ (‘For the Lord is in the generation of the righteous’). This section is definitely the most varied rhythmically of all the three psalms. Lively figurations appear both in the vocal and instrumental parts, and there is dialogue not only between the solo voice and the choir, but also between the male and female voices within the choir. In addition, there are far fewer solid chords and far less chorale texture. The peace of the divine Absolute stands in stark contrast to the turbulent world of human passions. This opposition is emphasised by the juxtaposition of the language of perfect fifths and fourths, and dissonances: seconds, sevenths, and tritones (which are as a rule a result of the superimposition of fourths or fifths shifted by a minor second). The final chord is again made up of multiplied c-g fifths with superimposed notes: f#, c#, and d.

Musical Example 1

Musical Example 2

Musical Example 3

When it comes to the sound material used in the Psalms, particulars concerning the choice of notes for each of the psalms can be found in Mycielski's surviving tables with note combinations.

Cf. Mielcarek-Krzyżanowska, ‘W kręgu kultury judeochrześcijańskiej…’. The tables for the successive compositions have been preserved in the Zygmunt Mycielski Archive at the National Library of Poland.

Used consistently by the composer in the Psalms, the table system became the basis for a coherent vision of opposed worlds: divine and human. As a result, there emerged an original three-part cycle conceived as a musical interpretation of the selected psalms. Unfortunately, the fact that in 1984 only the middle of the Three Psalms was performed – the shortest and most modest one in terms of musical means – considerably restricted the perception of the work. Only in the complete cycle can we recognise the broad formula of the composition, with a precise dramaturgical plan, intense concentrated expression, and an important ideological message.

Zygmunt Mycielski soon turned to Latin texts again, this time – with a view to composing a short Mass. However, since he decided to arrange the texts following his own concept, which was not quite in line with the liturgical sequence, he eventually decided to name the composition Liturgia sacra (though for a long time the sketches bore the title of Missa brevis,

The fair copies of his scores, given by Mycielski to Andrzej Panufnik, also included the manuscript of Missa brevis. I found it in the cabinet with Panufnik's scores at his home in Twickenham, in January 2020. It is in my possession now and I would like to thank Lady Panufnik for making it available to me.

and the composer himself usually spoke of this work as of a Mass). Mycielski's arrangement indeed has little in common with tradition. The composer only retained the Kyrie, Sanctus and Agnus Dei from the Mass cycle, with Agnus Dei appearing twice: after Kyrie and after Sanctus. The first Agnus replaces the Gloria section, although due to the presence of the words ‘qui tollis peccata mundi, suscipe deprecationem nostram’ (you who take away the sins of the world, receive our prayer’), this part is sometimes treated as an abbreviated Gloria. From the Credo the composer only took the verses referring to the Holy Trinity, repeating the word ‘Credo’ (I believe) many times. In exchange, he added sections that are not to be found in the traditional Mass: Domine, non sum dignus (Lord, I am not worthy), Ecce Agnus Dei (Behold the Lamb of God) and the final Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus (May almighty God bless you).

A detailed analysis of the composition has been presented by Marta Szoka, see M. Szoka, ‘Liturgia sacra Zygmunta Mycielskiego – misterium tremendum et fascinosum’ [‘Zygmunt Mycielski's liturgia sacra as a misterium tremendum et fascinosum’], in K. Droba, T. Malecka nad K. Szwajgier (eds), Muzyka polska 1945–1995 [Polish Music 1945–1995], Kraków, Akademia Muzyczna, 1996, pp. 113–124. Cf. also B. Mielcarek-Krzyżanowska, ‘Zygmunta Mycielskiego droga ku Liturgia sacra’ [‘Zygmunt Mycielski's Road to Liturgia sacra’], in J. Humięcka-Jakubowska and H. Winiszewska (eds), Cum debita reverentia. Księga Pamiątkowa dedykowana Profesor Danucie Jasińskiej [Memorial Book Dedicated to Professor Danuta Jasińska], Poznań, Wydawnictwo Poznańskiego Towarzystwa Przyjaciół Nauk, 2019, pp. 259–266.

The whole thus consists of nine parts: Kyrie, Agnus Dei, Credo, Sanctus, Agnus Dei, Domine, non sum dignus, Ecce Agnus Dei, Domine non sum dignus and Benedicat vos.

Thanks to such a structure (with two Domine, non sum dignus movements) Mycielski shifts the focus of the work to contrition. As Marta Szoka notes:

In its concept, Mycielski's Liturgia draws on the deeply intimate sphere of religious experience focused on pleas for mercy, and on the sphere of irrational emotions, the sense of which can never be fully explained.

Szoka, ‘Liturgia sacra Zygmunta Mycielskiego…’, p. 116.

Barbara Mielcarek-Krzyżanowska adds:

Such an untypical form of the Mass was somewhat ‘mitigated’ by Mycielski, who anchored it in the traditional stylistic idioms he learned when studying with Nadia Boulanger. In Liturgia sacra we can hear both quotations from medieval monodic chant and the ‘hard’ chords of pure fourths and fifths typical of the first polyphonic superimpositions on Gregorian chant; experiments with sound colour characteristic of Josquin; melodic structures in the intervallic form of the B-A-C-H musical cryptogram, and the austerity of sound that marks Stravinsky's sacred music.

Mielcarek-Krzyżanowska, ‘Zygmunta Mycielskiego droga ku Liturgia sacra’, p. 264.

Most importantly, however, Mycielski created an absolutely original work, composed in an individual musical language. It is extremely ascetic in its choice of musical means and focused on expression. In a way, Mycielski strips his music of all unnecessary embellishments, making it fit in with the austere tradition of Gregorian prayer. He creates a work that it is uniquely his own. Szoka goes as far as to locate it ‘in a completely separate position in Polish religious-themed music’.

Szoka, p. 122.

The significance of Mycielski's achievement was also recognised by the critics. After the premiere of the work at the 1986 Warsaw Autumn, Dorota Szwarcman wrote:

After Toshio Hosokawa's delicate Preludio – a major experience: Liturgia sacra by Zygmunt Mycielski. A piece of extraordinary austerity, as if stripped of all unnecessary appurtenances, purified, akin to Stravinsky's Requiem Canticles – I find this association shocking, because I remember what Mycielski wrote about that particular work. The Liturgia is perceived as a testament, as a message and, at the same time, a confession of faith, which also involves fidelity.

D. Szwarcman, ‘Z dziennika wytrwałej słuchaczki’ [‘From the Diary of a Tenacious Listener’], Ruch Muzyczny, no. 23, 1986, p. 10.

Bohdan Pociej, interested as usual in the spiritual dimension of music, noted:

Liturgia is c l e a r, in a broad sense of the word: transparent in its structure, obvious in its intentions, generally simple in its sonic construction – more harmonic than polyphonic, clear in the delivery of the text; likewise clear and bright in its colour, despite a darker beginning, which, after all, conforms to the more recent tradition of expressing the plea: Kyrie – Have mercy.

I am struck in this work by the modesty and humbleness of its author (these are also marks of piety), his deep inner discipline; one could also call this – his high compositional awareness of this type of music, subordination to the old norms and requirements of the musical Mass setting. The time of this music, its flow, tempo, duration, and movement – in all its changes, subtle accelerations, moments of animation, accents of energy and rhythm, densifications of sound and expression – seems, in my view, perfectly in harmony with the time and duration of the liturgy, stemming directly from the rhythm of the rite, the religious service.

Pociej, ‘Próby utrwalenia…’, p. 7.

In the spring of 1986, Mycielski began to plan yet another piece: Fragments to words by Juliusz Słowacki. He found the text in the volume Ja, Orfeusz [I, Orpheus], which contains various poetic pieces written by Juliusz Słowacki in 1836–49.

Słowacki, Ja, Orfeusz, pp. 154–158.

He selected the fragment opening with the words ‘Góry się ozłociły...’ [‘The mountains turned golden...’],

The genre of the text is not obvious, as pointed out by Barbara Mielcarek-Krzyżanowska in ‘Pastorałka dramatyczna Juliusza Słowackiego…’, p. 21. In the introduction to his selection Marian Bizan writes: ‘[…] the second part of the volume comprises fragments of plays or poems taken out of larger wholes’, see Słowacki, p. 19.

but, as was his custom, he rearranged the text in his own way. Originally, Słowacki's piece was written for the stage, with a division of the text into roles. The poet distinguished in it the following characters and groups (in order of appearance in the text): Chorus, Voice, Angel, Shepherds, Angels, Shepherd I and II, Chorus [of angels]. From the first dialogue of the Chorus and the Voice, Mycielski chose the words of the Chorus, leaving out those of the Voice (‘Elijah! Israel!’ etc.). This became the first stanza of the text used by the composer: The mountains turned golden – the sapphire blues of the seas are getting darker. The waves have risen. The wind and roosters crow from the earth. The moon like a fire stands on the black ocean. A ship in the distance rolls on the flaring foam. The ship, a whale of the world, with fires in its windows. To it are flowing divine clouds covered with candles. The sea and the earth and the air have become still.

Z. Mycielski, Fragmenty, manuscript score preserved in the Andrzej Panufnik Archive, in the author's possession. See also Mycielski, Niby-dziennik ostatni 1980–1987, entry for 26 August 1984, p. 482. Cf. Słowacki, pp. 154–155. Significantly, the version of the poem published in the programme booklet of the 1987 Warsaw Autumn contains textual errors in comparison with both the poetic original and the words as arranged by the composer and aligned with music in the score.

Mycielski then left out the next section of text, moving straight on to the lines spoken by the shepherds: Get up! Let us go with shepherds’ songs   To greet the child... The whole world is on the move,   The homestead is on fire – our flocks in the spirit, The dogs are trembling... and sitting with their golden eyes, With their ears pricked up.   The Lord has come: Let us put on our sheepskin coats   And let us go – the morning people, with a greeting.

Mycielski, Fragmenty. Cf. Słowacki, pp. 154–155.

He used this fragment without any changes, closing the whole (though not immediately) with the words that follow the shepherds’ chorus in Słowacki's poem. It is a short question-and-answer exchange between two shepherds: The Lord of Light? Peace over the whole creation...

Słowacki, p. 156.

Musical Example 4

It turns out that Mycielski added it while working on the piece, on 30 July 1986. As he noted down under this date:

This morning I decide to add to the text that was meant to close the Fragments, ‘And let us go – the morning people, with a greeting’, another line – marked by Słowacki as the words of the first and second shepherd:   ‘The Lord of Light?   Peace over the whole creation.’ This will extend my coda. I thought about it already at the hospital, even before the surgery. And later, that ‘the morning people, with a greeting’ would suffice. Now I have decided to add these words in the following line, to ‘to dot the i's and cross the t's’. But can I do it?

Mycielski, Niby-dziennik ostatni, entry for 30 July 1986 [Warsaw, ‘after a week in hospital, back in my room’], p. 604.

From the very beginning he was guided, as usual, by the words of the poet. This time, however, the circumstances were exceptional. Mycielski knew that despite the success of the surgery performed in the spring of 1986, he did not have much time left. In May 1986 he wrote: ‘I think with all humility about Słowacki's Fragments – my last escape into lyricism (?), which I may bring about, which I perhaps can bring about. Perhaps I will summon the last reserves of my waning strength for that. I also think that this escape into lyricism or poetry is (unfortunately?!) the Polish way of responding to imminent disaster.’

Mycielski, Niby-dziennik ostatni, entry for 18 May 1986 [Warsaw, hospital], p. 589.

Work on the piece gave him a lot of satisfaction, enabling him to forget about the illness and the reality around him at least for a moment.

In comparison with the rather monumental Psalms and Liturgia sacra, Fragments is a much more modest composition. Written for choir and only a small orchestra, it is also characterised by a clearer and lighter texture. It brings peace and hope, as well as a note of lyricism, corresponding to the words of the poet. The text is delivered by the choir, which sings almost in unison, clearly chanting the successive lines. In the musical layer, Mycielski again highlights the intervals of pure fourths and fifths, as another reference to the spirituality of Gregorian chant that was so close to him. Though the music of Fragments is neither openly religious nor shares any qualities with Gregorian chant in terms of sound, by emphasising these eternal intervals the composer was able to approach the mystery of the Absolute again. After all, in the past ages the perfection of pure consonances was equated with the perfection of the universe…

In Fragments, Mycielski musically conveyed the transition from the nocturnal world (represented by the sound of the low strings and the bassoon) towards the brightening of darkness by the annunciation of the Nativity (in the central part, more energetic and dramatic). This is where the sounds of the tutti and the whole choir can be heard at last. The musical energy is focused on the appearance of the ship, an ark saving humanity from extinction. It becomes a symbol of the birth of the Saviour. The music, previously tempestuous, calms down, and the awakened ‘morning people’ set off, singing shepherds’ songs, to pay homage to the Child. The whole closes with a peaceful coda, in which God the Light blesses the whole world. Mycielski ends his work by melting it into silence. As in his previous religious-themed compositions he seemed to be humbly putting himself in the hands of God, submitting himself to His blessing with faith and hope. Mycielski's beautiful, lyrical and profoundly spiritual farewell to the world closes his oeuvre in a highly meaningful manner. The score of Fragments bears the following inscription: 9 April 1987, Warsaw. Mycielski died on 5 August that year.

The compositions discussed here are the most important pieces from the last period of Zygmunt Mycielski's creative life. They express very well everything that is usually included under the definition of a composer's ‘late style’. They are not simply works written towards the end of a mature composer's life, but they provide evidence that he took up themes that were the most important to him at the time, paying no attention to the trends or musical fashions of the day. Mycielski thus created music that became his testament. This is true, first and foremost, of the liturgically rooted Psalms and Liturgia sacra, but also of his last work, Fragments. Contrary to the vision of late style presented by Adorno and discussed by Said as internally irreconcilable and catastrophic, as it were,

See Said, On Late Style…, p. 8.

Mycielski is among those artists who in the last period of their lives created works abounding in harmony and contemplation.

As Said writes: ‘We meet the accepted notion of age and wisdom in some last works that reflect a special maturity, a new spirit of reconciliation and serenity often expressed in terms of a miraculous transfiguration of common reality. In late plays such as The Tempest or The Winter's Tale, Shakespeare returns to the forms of romance and parable; similarly, in Sophocles’ Oedipus at Colonus, the aged hero is portrayed as having finally attained a remarkable holiness and sense of resolution. Or there is the well-known case of Verdi, who, in his final years, produced Othello and Falstaff, works that exude not so much a spirit of wise resignation as a renewed, almost youthful energy that attests to an apotheosis of artistic creativity and power.’ Said also adds here the names of Rembrandt and Matisse, Bach and Wagner. He notes, however, that he himself is much more interested in lateness not as “harmony and resolution but as intransigence, difficulty, and unresolved contradiction”’. Cf. Said, p. 3.

In their case creation ‘against the grain’ (as Said would have it) manifests itself in their rejection of any external pressure. Creative artists write solely in harmony with themselves. This is evident also in the case of Mycielski. Hence the terms referring to the separateness, individuality of language, etc., appearing in reviews and discussions of his Psalms or Liturgia sacra. They would thus correspond both to the late creative phase distinguished by Mieczysław Tomaszewski, in which ‘music becomes serious and spiritual, and does not shy away from taking on philosophical and sacred themes’ (Psalms, Liturgia sacra), and the final creative phase, accompanied by ‘a sense of freedom from external and internal pressure’ and characterised by ‘liberation of the imagination and a turn towards new shores’

Tomaszewski, ‘O drodze twórczej…’, p. 26.

(Fragments). As Tomaszewski stresses, this is where one can witness the emergence of ‘works marked by mysticism and metaphysics, sometimes even becoming a form of testament’.

Tomaszewski, p. 26.

Though in Mycielski's case it is only with regard to Fragments that one can speak of fragmentariness (indicated by Tomaszewski with reference to the final phase and by Said in his reflections on late style), stemming from a ‘departure from direct reality’,

Tomaszewski, p. 26.

all the three compositions discussed here can be said to represent ‘the composer seeming to converse with himself’.

Tomaszewski, p. 26.

In the case of Mycielski, however, these conversations bear no traces of rebellion or a refusal to resign. Instead, they refer to a higher, Divine reality, in full submission to its Decrees. This resulted in timeless, outstanding works, the crowning achievements in the composer's oeuvre.

Musical Example 5