Kintsugi
“Kintsugi” is the Japanese practice of repairing broken porcelain and ceramics with gold. It is often referred to as “the art of precious scars,” and literally means “to repair with gold.” This comes as no surprise since Japanese aesthetic values marks of wear on used objects. For the Japanese, these marks become a part of both the object’s past and present, turning the practice of kintsugi into a statement of acceptance and non-attachment to the past; it is a gesture of adaptation to change. Such repair practices are related to the philosophy of “wabi-sabi” which embraces the flawed or imperfect. Indeed, kintsugi highlights the cracks and repairs with gold, turning them into beautiful events in the object’s life. In other words, kintsugi is a projection of human resilience on the material world. The object can continue serving its purpose, beautifully and bravely redefined after damage or breakage.
In my work, the fragmented musical “object” is J.S. Bach’s famous Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor BWV 582 for organ, which has also been arranged for orchestra by a number of great conductors, choreographed by Roland Petit (“Le Jeune Homme et La Mort”) and was even used in the dark baptism sequence of The Godfather (1972). My own work for eleven saxophones begins with melodic fragments inspired by the Passacaglia; these set in motion a prelude-like, improvisatory development. As the movement unfolds, more and more harmonies are based on the original chordal functions of the ostinato theme, including its retrograde appearances. This pitch-centricity surrounding the fragmented ostinato is the axis of most harmonic and melodic processes. Throughout the piece, this “broken” sound is being “glued” back together, similarly to the kintsugi tradition.
The second movement begins with the complete Passacaglia ostinato theme, the lower saxophones being just microtones apart. In this low register, the result is interference beatings that sound like extra pulses between these pitches, due to the proximity of their frequencies. Just like baroque passacaglias, this movement is in a triple meter, the low ostinato is present throughout the whole movement, and a number of variations unfold above it. I have also borrowed a number of longer melodic lines from the original Passacaglia and molded them into an environment of new harmonies, rhythms, expressive effects, and more, thus creating a new, “re-composed” musical entity.
Kintsugi pivots from the unfamiliar to the familiar and invites the listener to observe the arduous negotiation between the old and the new. Catharsis comes in the end when the efforts of redefining and “gluing” the musical object back together culminate in the original Bach Passacaglia opening passage, arranged for saxophones. Nevertheless, after this journey, the original composition is bound to never sound the same again.