In 1888, the eccentric French composer Erik Satie (1866-1925) published three short, atmospheric piano solos called Gymnopédies. The
Gymnopédie No. 1
Gymnopédie’s Strange Title
No one is completely sure why Satie named these pieces Gymnopédies. The term itself comes from the ancient Greek word for an annual festival where young men danced to show off their athletic skills (probably without clothing, like in the Olympics). But because the music does not evoke images or feelings from that festival, others think the inspiration for the title came from Gustave Flaubert‘s novel Salammbô (Satie said this after proclaiming himself a “
| French Poem | English Translation |
| Oblique et coupant l’ombre un torrent éclatant Ruisselait en flots d’or sur la dalle polie Où les atomes d’ambre au feu se miroitant Mêlaient leur sarabande à la gymnopédie | Slanting and shadow-cutting a bursting stream Trickled in gusts of gold on the shiny flagstone Where the amber atoms in the fire gleaming Mingled their sarabande with the gymnopaedia. |
Musical Analysis
The first thing to understand about Gymnopédie No. 1 is that its simplicity is intentional, and that’s where the beauty comes from. The melody is a single, flowing line of quarter notes, raising and lowering like ocean waves. The rhythms are long and sustained, creating a sense of floating through time.
Harmonic Language
The piece begins in the key of D major alternating between two chords: Gmaj7 (G-B-D-F#) and Dmaj7 (D-F#-A-C#). Notice how the F# stays on top of both chords. This creates a pedal point, tying the two harmonies together to paint a melancholic atmosphere. The melody floats over these two chords, slowly raising and lowering and expanding in
After a repeat of this theme, the harmonies shift from bars 16-25. Satie transitions from D major to D minor and A minor while traveling through some colorful chords:
Notice how in the last three bars of this excerpt, a low D in the bass provides another pedal point. This adds depth and dissonance to support (or contrast with) the melody as it slowly crescendoes to measure 25.
This low D pedal point continues through measure 31 while alternating seventh chords add depth underneath the theme:
As the section comes to an end, the harmonies transition from E minor to A minor before cadencing on D Major.
Notice the three notes in measures 35 and 36 (circled in blue) that fall upward before landing on F# an octave lower than expected.
The music then repeats almost exactly – until we get to the new section that replaces bars 32-39. We start in E minor again, but the sharps are removed from the key signature to add tension. Also, notice how in measures 35-36 this time around the theme falls downward in a mirror of the earlier rendition:
By the way, Satie’s friend Debussy orchestrated the Gymnopédies in 1898:
What makes this piece stand out?
At the time of its composition, Gymnopédie No. 1 broke just about every single musical rule there was. There is no specific harmonic structure; there is no story in the music. The simple melody does not *really* develop. Instead, Satie created a new, reflective world in Gynmopédie No. 1 – one that today might be called ambient. He used what he knew, long and sustained rhythms with a slowly rocking theme, to invite the listener to get lost in the music.
All of these lush, beautiful harmonies work together with the slow rhythms and tempo to create a vast, open space to think and reflect. And in the late Romantic era, this was frowned upon. The Gymnopédies did not start enjoying success until about 20 years later when the avant-garde became more and more accepted in art and music.
And Satie did indeed set the stage for ambient and minimalist music in the 1900s. 20th-century composers such as John Cage were inspired by Satie’s use of endless repetitions and floating structures. Without Satie and his bold, evocative compositional style, music today would be very different
So the next time you hear Gymnopedie No. 1, let yourself be swept away into a world of color, reflection, and imagination.
Great analysis, Kathryn. It often strikes me that, in the late 19th century, composers were ahead of the game harmonically, and it took the rest of instrumental music a while to catch up! Even the older generation were in on it! Are you familiar with Liszt’s Trübe Wolken/Nuages Gris (Grey Clouds) from 1881, often cited as the first atonal composition? Of course, it isn’t atonal at all – the key signature says G minor! – but it seems to go out of its way to avoid a clear resolution in that key (until the bitter end, in fact), including by using dissonances that would have seemed harsh even by the standards of the era.
Yes, Nuages Gris is so interesting! I love finding pieces where composers were pushing the boundaries years before it became popular.
Liszt had previous, of course – starting the Faust Symphony with a tone row decades before the term was even coined, for example – but NG was daring even for him. Apologies, by the way, for forgetting to include a closing tag for the hyperlink in my previous comment!
No worries!😊
This is the saddest piece I’ve ever heard; so expressive of senseless loss and bewildered resignation.
It was so beautifully written to be able to capture those emotions!
I cry and cry and cry when I hear this. For times gone by, for those who are no longer with us, for the times spent with our loved ones…..sweet grief.
❤️👍
As a 66 y.o. Newbie piano student, I have enjoyed learning this piece, using my”third hand”
I’m so glad you’re enjoying this piece!
Dear Kathryn Louderback. I am a Danish musician and composer. I am writing an article on Satie and that’s how I jumped into your name. I have some piano pieces out that I want to mail to you. They are very simple, but maybe you’ll like it or just some of it. I all 16 small pieces. Where can I send it to??
My mail adresse is torbenenghoff@gmail.com
Best wishes
Torben Enghoff
Hi, feel free to email me at pianistmusings@gmail.com
I certainly feel a deep sense of reflection laced throughout the piece. And I was intrigued to read that there was no real melody as such: heard it a thousand and one times and never really “got” that stark, bold premise! However, in the ruminative, reflective mode, now in my 70’s, I don’t interpret that as dismal or sad at all. In some ways, it feels that the distractions of life, the predictable stages, and oncoming winter days are simply things to take in — pass through — absorb and let go — like a glow from an ebbing ember or a restful, nestled beam of the moon. ROB
Agree no sense of sadness here for me either. A beautiful piece.
really great analysis. another thing i notice in this piece harmonically is the way that the constant blurring effect of the pedal allows the melody to hit some really dissonant minor 9ths against the accompaniment in the D minor “B section,” which would in typical romantic harmony require resolution but here just creates a gauzy, suspended effect.
Absolutely! Thank you for your comment. It’s such a great piece.
Dear Kathryn, the piece is written in the mode of G mixolydian, not D major, the D major key signature is only there because of the norm of those days. Nowadays if you want to write modal music you won’t put any key signatures at all. Cheers Homayoon