Ascèses

Seven years ago, I spent a few weeks worrying over the definition of the word “Ascèses”. I couldn’t find the term in any French dictionary. My professor—even with his much more thorough comprehension of the language—had never heard of the word. It was the title of André Jolivet’s work for solo clarinet (originally written for flute in C), and the piece I stumbled upon while searching the endless dusty shelves in the basement of the UofT music library. It was under-performed; rare enough that I could feel free to make it my own. But despite studying it carefully for the duration of the semester, I couldn’t determine whether “Ascèses” should refer to the concept of ascension, interchange, or opportunity.

There were 5 parts to the work (I wouldn’t say “movements”, but rather “exercises” or even “chapters”):

1. Pour que demeure le secret. Nous tairons jusqu'au silence
2. Tu surgis de l'absence
3. Matière, triple abîme des étoiles, des atomes et des générations
4. Le Dieu a créé les rêves pour indiquer la route au dormeur ...
5. O femme qui ne sais que tu portais en toi le monde

The entire work was mysteriously eerie and chant-like, and the somewhat unusual order of sounds worked together so as to affect the consciousness; a transcendental aim, perhaps. I chose to play #1 and #5 at my first-year juried exam, and yet I never did find out what the title signified. I even took “Ascèses” to Ottawa for one last little performance, but found no answer there, either.

And then last night, on a whim, I searched for the word again… and I found it, in English, thanks to Merriam-Webster’s and WordReference.com online:

Ascesis

Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural asceses
Etymology: Late Latin or Greek; Late Latin, from Greek askēsis, literally, exercise, from askein
Date: 1873
Synonyms: self-discipline, asceticism
Rigorous self-denial and active self-restraint

Exercises in asceticism! Not an earth-shattering conclusion, really. Perhaps this is something I should have guessed from the nature of the work and the titles of the individual nos. 1-5. But when I saw the definition I immediately felt a pang of regret, because now it all made sense: a deeper meaning linked all of those “ascèses” together, each so calm and compact, meditative, holding something back. Simple… exquisitely simple.