In 1913, on a walking holiday in Spain, a friend introduced Gustav Holst to the world of astrology. The composer was instantly captivated, not by fortune-telling, but by the grand, ancient concept of the planets as powerful archetypes, each with its own distinct character and influence on the human spirit. This newfound fascination became the epic inspiration for his greatest and most famous work, the seven-movement suite, The Planets. It is crucial to remember that this is a work of astrology, not astronomy; Holst famously omitted Earth (as it has no astrological significance) and Pluto (which had not yet
...An Astrological and Psychological Portrait
In the spring of 1913, the composer Clifford Bax introduced his friend Gustav Holst to the fascinating world of astrology. Holst, a man of wide-ranging intellectual and spiritual interests that included theosophy and Sanskrit literature, was immediately hooked. He became a skilled amateur astrologer, delighting in casting his friends' horoscopes. But it was the broader, archetypal personalities of the planets—the "seven governors of destiny" as he called them—that truly seized his musical imagination. This astrological spark, fanned by the looming catastrophe of the First World War, ignited the creation of his most monumental and enduringly popular work: the seven-movement orchestral suite, The Planets. It is not a scientific tour of the solar system, but a profound and thrilling psychological journey, a series of vivid musical portraits depicting the influence of the cosmos on the human psyche.
A Monument of the Modern Orchestra
Composed between 1914 and 1916, The Planets was a work of unprecedented scale and ambition in English music. Holst called for a colossal orchestra, requiring extra woodwinds, a huge brass section, an extensive battery of percussion, two harps, a celesta, an organ, and, in its final movement, a hidden, wordless female choir. Influenced by the revolutionary orchestral techniques of contemporaries like Igor Stravinsky and Arnold Schoenberg, Holst used this massive ensemble to create a sound world of astonishing color, power, and atmospheric depth, cementing his reputation as one of the great masters of orchestration.
Mars, the Bringer of War
The suite opens with arguably the most terrifying and visceral piece of music ever composed. "Mars" is a relentless and brutal depiction of the mechanized horror of modern warfare. It is built on a savage, asymmetrical rhythm in 5/4 time, a brutal ostinato hammered out by the strings with the wooden back of the bow (col legno). Over this, the brass enter with a snarling, dissonant theme that builds in a long, terrifying crescendo to a climax of almost unbearable power. Composed just before the outbreak of World War I, its prophetic depiction of mechanized slaughter is profoundly chilling.
Venus, the Bringer of Peace
After the horror of "Mars," "Venus" offers a vision of sublime and serene tranquility. The movement opens with a beautiful, rising solo for the horn, followed by ethereal, shimmering chords in the flutes and harps. The atmosphere is one of cool, timeless beauty and quiet contemplation. The central section features a beautiful, lyrical melody for the solo violin. It is a moment of profound peace, the perfect antidote to the preceding violence, showcasing Holst's ability to create a sound world of immense and delicate beauty.
Mercury, the Winged Messenger
"Mercury" is a fleet-footed and brilliant scherzo. The music is light, fleeting, and mercurial, darting between different instrumental groups with dazzling speed and agility. Holst creates a sparkling, shimmering texture through the use of the celesta, glockenspiel, and two harps, which are set against rapid, scurrying figures in the woodwinds and strings. The entire movement is a brilliant display of orchestral virtuosity, a magical and fleeting vision of the quicksilver messenger of the gods.
Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity
This is the suite’s most famous and beloved movement, a portrait of magnificent, large-hearted joy and celebration. "Jupiter" is a study in contrasts, a string of brilliant and memorable tunes that evoke the spirit of an English folk festival. It moves from boisterous, energetic dance rhythms to moments of almost clumsy, comical good humor. At its heart is the famous, noble, and deeply moving central theme, a broad, hymn-like melody that has since become the much-loved patriotic hymn, "I Vow to Thee, My Country. " The movement builds to a final, glorious and triumphant restatement of its joyful themes.
Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age
For Holst, this was his personal favorite movement. "Saturn" is a stark and profoundly moving depiction of the slow, inexorable, and painful process of aging. It opens with a stark, see-sawing rhythm in the flutes and harps, a sound Holst described as "the sinister ticking of a clock. " Over this, the trombones introduce a heavy, weary, processional theme. The movement is a long, slow, grinding crescendo that builds to a climax of immense, almost unbearable, tragic power, a desperate cry against the dying of the light. After this climax, the music transforms into a passage of serene and quiet acceptance.
Uranus, the Magician
"Uranus" is a grand and grotesque scherzo, a portrait of a clumsy, lumbering sorcerer attempting to cast a spell. The movement opens with a bold, four-note fanfare from the brass. The main theme is a jaunty, almost comical, dance led by the bassoons. The music is full of bizarre and brilliant orchestral effects, building in a manic frenzy that seems to spin wildly out of control, culminating in a massive, dissonant chord from the full orchestra and organ. After a sudden silence, the music mysteriously vanishes into the distance.
Neptune, the Mystic
The suite concludes with a movement of pure, otherworldly mystery. "Neptune" is a piece of musical impressionism, a score with no themes, only shifting, ethereal fragments of sound. The harmony is ambiguous and unresolved, creating a feeling of floating in the cold, endless void of deep space. Holst achieves this through the use of shimmering harps, celesta, and high woodwinds. The movement's most original and haunting feature is the introduction of a wordless, offstage female choir, their voices weaving in and out of the orchestral texture like distant sirens. The symphony does not end; it simply fades away, as a door is slowly closed on the choir, leaving the listener suspended in an unresolved, mystical silence.