Gustav Holst – Japanese Suite op. 33 H. 126 (1915)

Traditional Eastern music – be it Chinese, Japanese, or any other – are both inspired and constrained by a culture of conformity. Archetypes are celebrated and rigidly enforced, such that within a span of centuries only a handful of socially significant compositions are produced. These tunes are then faithfully performed with very few changes – in fact, conformity to the original tune is not only encouraged, but expected by the audience.

Imagine if, after the Beatles became big, every band that followed them simply played Hey Jude over and over again, without any intention or incentive to make anything different.

Such an arrangement is unthinkable in compositions following the European tradition, where even contemporary copycats of Mozart and Beethoven had to put their own spins on their work, or risk being denigrated as derivative – which they often ended up being anyway.

This contrast in ideologies is the reason why Eastern-inspired music written by a Western composer often provides a brand-new, hitherto unexplored experience.

You might know Gustav Holst from The Planets…and only The Planets. His repertoire is often eclipsed by those of his contemporaries, probably due to the fact that Holst was a film composer before film music was even a thing.

Distinct motifs, rhythmic backing, contemporary layering, complex on paper but not on the ear, and decidedly not weird – Holst struck that perfect line between ‘just complex enough to be entertaining by itself’ and ‘just simple enough to accompany visual media.’ The sweet-spot for movie magic.

His previous ethnically-inspired work, Oriental Suite op. 29/1 H. 107 (1909), evokes that mysterious ethnicity that represents everything east of Istanbul – the ‘Orient’. It sounds Arabian, Japanese, and everything in between. Rather than taking cues from any particular culture, Holst had decided that all of the East was ‘oriental’ and homogenized it with his trusty tambourines.  

If you were asked to describe European culture, would you put together a plate of Yorkshire pudding and sauerkraut with spaghetti bolognese and declare that this dish represents all of Europe? Because that’s what he did. It’s still delicious, however, so no hard feelings.

In the Japanese Suite op. 33 H. 126 (1915), Holst has improved. On first hearing, you immediately recognize that he now understands what is Japanese and what isn’t. The hirajoshi scale is liberally employed, and instead of Frankenstein-ing in ‘oriental’ themes with the tambourine, he falls back to his tried-and-tested techniques – meaning that the not-Japanese bits (such as the entire second movement) just sound like…Holst.

The result is a highly pleasant – if brief – listening experience. It’s classic Holst-brand dramatic movie-like easy-listening with Japanese motifs.

The real tragedy is that, while Holst was able to incorporate ethnic motifs into his compositional style, there were very few Asian composers during that time period who were able to do the same – compose traditional music with Western compositional techniques.

In fact, as Holst was doing his cultural exchange, Asian composers were still stuck in that reiterative loop of repeating traditional tunes. New tunes still sounded like they could have been written two hundred years ago. A traditional Eastern ‘orchestra’ in the early 20th century was still a hundred traditional instruments playing a monophonic melody, plus drums.

This status quo only began to change as Asian musicians returned from their education abroad – but this is a story for another time.