Henryk Górecki. Symphony of Sorrowful Songs

In autumn 1973, Górecki travelled with his wife and two children to West Berlin for a one-year residency with the German Academic Exchange Service (DAAD) as part of the Artists-in-Berlin Program.[1] The invitation had already been made some time before, but health issues and the birth of his son – Mikołaj Piotr, who would later become a composer – in February 1971 had so far prevented his study trip. Górecki became ill again in Berlin during new year 1973/74 with kidney problems and needed half a year to recover. On his return to Poland, the couple initially decided to move to Warsaw but in the end moved to Katowice, where Górecki had studied at the State Higher School of Music and had later worked as a lecturer. In 1975 he accepted the position as rector at the Music Academy / Akademia Muzyczna w Katowicach, founded in 1929.

Some months already before his stay in Berlin, Górecki had asked Adolf Dygacz (1914–2004), an ethnologist and musicologist who also taught at the Music Academy, about interesting old melodies in his collection, as the British specialist for Polish music Adrian Thomas (*1947) writes in his comprehensive biography about Górecki.[2] Dygacz responded with four songs from Silesia, including a folk song from the Opole area. It is the lament of a mother whose son lost his life during an uprising: “Kajze mi sie podzioł mój synocek miły? / Where has he gone, my beloved son?”[3] While the melody likely originates from the 19th century, the text refers to the Silesian Uprisings from 1919 to 1921. According to Thomas, this song was the beginning of the conception and completion, which took over three years, of Symphony No. 3 (Symphony of Sorrowful Songs / Symfonia pieśni żałosnych / Sinfonie der Klagelieder), Op. 26, for solo soprano and orchestra. “For me, it is a wonderfully poetic text”, explained Górecki in 1977 during a music conference in Baranów Sandomierski. “I do not know if a ‘professional’ poet would create such a powerful entity out of such terse, simple words. It is not sorrow, despair or resignation, or the wringing of hands: it is just the great grief and lamenting of a mother who has lost her son.”

Górecki began composing, yet soon found himself facing what he considered the impossible task of achieving, on the basis of the traditional melody, a harmony as solid as that of his previous pieces. He put the material to one side and looked for other texts that could complement the first set. He found the next text for his future symphony in the book, “Palace. Katownia Podhala” (Palace. The torture chamber of Podhale), by Alfons Filar and Michał Leyko, published in 1970. It describes the atrocities committed by the German Gestapo between 1939 and 1945 in the Hotel Palace in Zakopane, which had been repurposed as a commanding office for the security police. Names and writing scratched into the walls of the cellar prison cells were found after the war. Among these was graffiti by 18-year-old Helena Wanda Błażusiakówna from Szczawnica, who had been imprisoned there since September 1944: “Mamo, nie płacz, nie. Niebios Przeczysta Królowo. Ty zawsze wspieraj mnie. Zdrowaś Mario. / Oh Mamma do not cry, no. Immaculate Queen of Heaven, always support me. Ave Maria”. It partially refers to a Polish resistance song from 1918. In 1977, Górecki commented that he had to admit he had always been irritated by grand words: “Perhaps in the face of death I would also cry out in this way myself. But the sentence I found is different, almost an apology or explanation for having got herself into such trouble; she [the author] is seeking comfort and support in simple, short but meaningful words. I like texts like this: simple and short.” 

While looking for another text with a similar mood, Górecki decided on the fourth verse from “Lament świętokrzyski” (Holy Cross Lament), a Planctus from around 1470, the manuscript of which in the Holy Cross Benedictine monastery on the Łysa Góra mountain in south-east Poland apparently went missing during the Second World War: “Synku miły i wybrany. Rozdziel z matką swoje rany … / O my son, beloved and chosen, Share your wounds with your mother ... ” Górecki commented on this later in his lecture: “This text was popular and anonymous. Now I had three acts, three people. Originally, I wanted to frame these texts with an introduction and a conclusion. I even chose two verses (5 and 6) from Psalm 93/94 in the translation by Wujek: ‘They humiliated Your people, O Lord, and afflicted Your heritage ...’” In the end however Górecki decided against this and kept only the first three laments.