I recently watched the film Werckmeister Harmonies, and every day since it’s been lingering in the back of my mind.
Werckmeister Harmonies is a film by director Bela Tarr, and based on a book by fellow Hungarian, author Laszlo Krasznahorkai (who also wrote the screenplay). Tarr is renowned for his distinct style, which is shot in black and white and involves many long, continuous takes. This film, for instance, was composed entirely of 39 different shots.
Tarr’s films, like Krasznahorkai’s books, elude a single interpretation. Taken as a whole, it’s clear that Werckmeister Harmonies evokes fascist violence and the Holocaust. But the meaning of individual scenes and monologues can be difficult to discern. When asked about the meaning of his films, Tarr often evades a clear answer.
The plot is deceptively simple – a circus arrives in a small town in rural Hungary. It’s main attractions are a giant stuffed whale, and a man known as “The Prince”. From early on, rumors swirl about this mysterious circus, rumors of terror and violence. The circus sets itself up in a town square, and quickly becomes surrounded by crowds of idle and directionless men. Eventually, the presence of the Prince (seen only in shadow), seems to inspire a wave of mob violence across the town. We follow Janos, a sensitive and helpful man, as he bears witness to these events.
Harmonies and Dissonance
One key monologue in this film comes from Uncle György, an aging composer, who remarks that Bach’s music sounds better if it is tuned naturally – that is, in contrast to the system of tuning that was developed by Andreas Werckmeister (still used as the standard to this day). However, this natural tuning risks sounding dissonant and temperamental. He goes on to say that all western music based on this system is essentially based on a lie.
I have to make it clear that not even for a moment is there doubt that it is not a technical but a philosophical question. So that the tonal system in question, through researches, has led us inevitably to a test of faith, in which we ask: on what do we base our belief that this harmony, the core of every masterpiece, referring to its own irrevocability, actually exists or not. From this it follows that we should speak of, not research into music, but a unique realization of non-music which for centuries has been covered up and a dreadful scandal which we should disclose. Hence the shameful situation that all the intervals in the masterpieces of many centuries are false. Which means that music and its harmony and echo, its unsurpassable enchantment is entirely based on a false foundation. Yes, we have to speak of an indisputable deception, even if those who are less sure, a little moderate, babble on about compromise. But what kind of compromise, when for the majority pure musical tonality is simply illusion, and truly pure musical intervals do not exist?
How does this relate to the film? It certainly gestures at the idea of disharmony, which is on full display in the violent mobs later in the film. Perhaps this musical allegory is really about our western, rationalizing understanding of human nature: we try to fit it into rational and pre-determined categories but what really lies in man’s heart is disharmonious.
While this reading fits in with the film’s pessimistic tone, I think it is ultimately inadequate and just plain wrong. Gyorgy does not say that all musical harmony since Werckmeister is based on a misjudgement. He says they are based on a lie. A “deception”. It’s not that humans are disharmonious, that we have simply made a mistake in how we assess human nature, but rather that our ideas about “harmony” are themselves the problem.
All Western music, and therefore all our conceptions of harmony and disharmony, are based on Werckmeister choosing these distinct and predetermined notes, which have came to dominate all Western music from Bach onwards. In a broader sense, our conception of harmony is predicated on this act of standardization, which involves the removal and erasure of all difference.
It is here that we can see the link between Werckmeister’s harmonies (and the broader project of rationalization in Western history and culture), and the fascistic violence of the film’s climax. At the heart of both is the correction, or, if that fails, annihilation of difference.
At the end of the film, our protagonist ends up in a mental hospital, traumatized and refusing to speak. Uncle Gyorgy talks to him, and tells him that he has been forced to move from his home – but he still has his piano. He has given in and tuned the piano again.
Hope and Despair
But I wouldn’t say that this film expresses a view which is purely anti-rational. In fact, the moments of beauty are often related to the wonders of nature and the cosmos. In the opening scene, Janos directs some drunken villagers as they mimic the movements of the sun, moon, and earth, in order to explain the eclipse. This scene, made up of a single eleven minute shot, is utterly captivating and effused with a sense of wonder and hope. Or the scene where Janos encounters the Whale, which is equally moving. In many ways these two moments are the other side of the project of the enlightenment – this project has brought us an understanding of the universe which can be quite beautiful, and can carry us through even the darkest of times, like the passing of the eclipse.
Many have compared Krasznahorkai’s writing to Dostoevsky without God, but if this film is any indication, there is still some residue of the spiritual. This film seems to have a spirituality that could, if anything, be called Spinozist.
To Spinoza, God and Nature were interchangeable. This is, of course, a vast oversimplification. Nonetheless, we see this kind of spirituality reflected in the awe felt at the whale, or at the movements of the planets.
Spinoza’s philosophy was also essentially deterministic. Einstein, who considered himself a Spinozist, said it best: “God does not play dice with the universe”. This is one problem the film seems to grapple with – are those dark times in history inevitable, like the eclipse? Were such terrible things always destined to happen? Are we helpless to prevent them from happening once again?
Looking Elsewhere 