The Planets

The Planets is not only his best-known work, but also one of his most personal. After discovering a work by the English astrologer and esotericist Alan Leo, Holst became so fascinated by astronomy that he conceived of an orchestral suite whose movements would describe the distinctive character of each planet, like “a series of mood pictures,” acting as “foils to one another.” The composition of the work spanned from 1914 to 1917, during the composer’s rare free moments, as he was busy with his duties as music director of St. Paul’s Girls’ School and Morley College. The score calls for a sizable orchestra, including a large number of woodwinds, brass, and percussion instruments, two harps, as well as an organ and a celesta. The work was first performed on September 29, 1918, at Queen’s Hall in a private concert attended by some 250 people. It was performed in fragmentary form on a few occasions before its first complete performance in November 1920 by the London Symphony Orchestra conducted by Albert Coates.

“Mars, the Bringer of War” makes for a striking opening. Everything here contributes to conveying a belligerent feeling: the obsessive repetition of the same rhythmic motif, dissonant chords, and a dynamic gradation ranging from extreme softness to the most overwhelming force, giving the impression of the march of a relentless and menacing army. “Venus, the Bringer of Peace” responds in a soothing and luminous way: everything is enveloped in gentleness and benevolence, from the initial horn solo answered by the woodwinds and solo violin, to the expressive intervention of the oboe in the central section.

“Mercury, the Winged Messenger” is a light and airy interlude, where a swirling orchestra wonderfully illustrates the ceaseless activity of the messenger of the gods, right down to the glockenspiel, whose repeated notes seem to want to transmit some telegraphic communication in Morse code!

“Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity” impresses from the very first notes with its energy and exuberance. The music quickly takes on the character of a fanfare, not without a certain Edwardian pomp. In the central section, Holst presents a noble and solemn melody, growing in a crescendo, which became the famous anthem “I Vow to Thee, My Country.”

The contrast is stark with “Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age”: two alternating chords suggesting the ticking of a clock form a sonic backdrop against which a slow march swells before bursting into a grand chime, then gradually fading away into reverence.

“Uranus, the Magician” begins with four sustained notes in the brass, an omnipresent motif that will blend with the main theme, stated by the bassoon. This is followed by an enchanting dance reminiscent of the spirit of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice by Paul Dukas.

The suite concludes with “Neptune, the Mystic,” an enigmatic piece filled with strange and mysterious sounds. Based on the alternation of two sustained chords, it contrasts the deep tones of the brass with the high notes of the harps and celesta. A new ascending motif introduces an invisible choir of female voices. The ethereal atmosphere induces an almost hypnotic state, as the sounds dissolve into the vastness of space.