The Dissonant Unification: Musical Signifiers of Persistent Disunity in Preisner’s Song for the Unification of Europe

As a film score for Krzysztof Kieślowski’s 1993 film, Three Colors: Blue, Zbigniew Preisner’s Song for the Unification of Europe ostensibly functions to evoke and celebrate the newfound unity of Europe following the end of the Cold War, as suggested by the title. The song’s lyrics, derived from 1 Corinthians 13 in the Bible, advocate Christian ideals of love and harmony. However, upon close listening and analysis, the music appears to convey not triumphal unity, but rather persistent discord. Through varied textures, soaring soprano melodies, and shattering dissonances, the piece belies its uplifting title, lamenting instead the ultimate failure of the European project to transcend national divisions. This musical commentary on post-Cold War Europe uncannily foreshadows the fragmented socio-political reality across the continent, illustrating how far reality falls from the ideal dogma of unity.

           The first sign that Song for the Unification of Europe fails to achieve unity is in its textures. The piece opens with an a cappella choir singing the first stanza syllabically in homorhythmic textures. Their even and consistent rhythms provide a foundational sense of unity. It establishes a communal, sacred but strong ambiance in line with the Biblical lyrics, resembling the atmosphere of a Renaissance hymn. In a metaphorical sense, this initial phase can be likened to a robust, growing tree symbolizing unity and vibrancy. Yet, as the piece progresses, this strong imagery begins to shift. At 0:32, the strings enter with a bass line, building tension and thickening the texture until percussion joins at 0:52, creating an increasingly dense wall of sound. The driving rhythms create momentum, but at the expense of the unity of the opening choral passage, akin to the first leaves starting to fall from the tree of unity.

            At 1:05, the tempo slows down; a soprano soloist, accompanied by lush legato strings and vocal parts, replaces the driving texture of the opening. In the passage from 1:05 to 2:22, the soloist is foregrounded melodically while the accompaniment provides harmonic support and forward motion, resembling a solitary leaf separating from its branch. During this section, a sense of coherence emerges between the soloist and the accompaniment. But again, it is fleeting. The line “ouden imi” (Nothing I am) of the second stanza is repeated three times by the soprano, each repetition a step higher, ratcheting up musical tension. From 3:23, more fragmented textures emerge: first a violin solo playing the motif monophonically, then the soprano accompanied only by harp from 3:42 to 3:55. These moments of shifting textures and densities, especially before the climax reached through a crescendo between 3:58 and 4:14, create musical “negative space” – a sense of loss and fragmentation, stray strands of a once-whole tapestry, comparable to a stem falling or a cluster of leaves drifting apart. The thinning of textures after the climax is striking, with the bass vocal at 4:29, later joined progressively by lower-register instruments like double bass and woodwinds until 5:11. The build-up of texture and density, which only breaks down later, conveys disunity rather than a coherent, celebratory unification. The inconsistency in density and alternation between solo and ensemble sections, akin to the scattering of fallen leaves, stirring on the ground, contribute to a sense of a multifaceted yet disunited society.

            Moreover, the timbres and isolated instrumental lines provide further disunity. The soprano soloist’s timbre greatly contrasts with that of the choral singers; her intense voice quality and piercing high range stand against their blended sound. This distinction is clear before the climax between 3:23 and 3:55. When instruments take over the melodic line, it is in isolation: first violin playing the disjunct motif phrase, then solo voice and harp. These moments foreground each instrument’s individual color, rather than blending as an ensemble. The use of high-pitched timbres – the soaring soprano voice, luminous violin solo – makes the moments of lower register even more striking. For example, right after the climax, the bass vocal humming from 4:29, joined successively by double bass and low woodwinds, opens up a wide registral space. At 5:11, harmonies by choir and woodwinds join to conclude the music, followed by strings and percussion carrying the bass line from 5:55. This gaping registral divide, especially after the climax, evokes a sense of descent and solitude rather than unity. The increasingly fragmented approach to timbre and register gives the impression of once-coherent orchestral textures unravelling over time, much like fallen, un-lively leaves, devoid of their earlier promise of unity and growth.

            Finally, Preisner employs the minor mode and, at structurally significant moments, dissonance, undercutting the celebratory effect a piece about unity should convey. The recurring melodic motif from 3:23 is disjunct, contrasting with the overall conjunct melody at the beginning. Right before the climax, the last line of the third stanza “mizon de touton i agape” (But the greatest of these is Love) is repeated three times, each with increasingly dense texture, with the soprano joined by vocal harmonies and strings progressively building tension. The climax itself is marked by dissonant notes sustaining in the bass from 4:15–4:27, as the soprano’s held high notes clash jarringly with chromatic inner voices. While the overall consonance in the piece can represent unity, these dissonances introduce doubt and discomfort. The recurring minor passages color the music with melancholy rather than joy. Structurally, the music never resolves in a consonant, cadential chord, but instead ends abruptly with the penultimate phrase of the motif, like bare branches reaching towards the leaden sky – symbolizing, perhaps, the unfinished task of unification.

           Preisner’s Song for the Unification of Europe falls short as a representation of a unified continent. Its kaleidoscopic textures, timbres, and harmonies convey the complex fragmentation of Europe as leaves falling from a once-strong tree, not the coherence promised by its ambitious title. Yet as musical portraiture, capturing diversity rather than forcing unity, the piece succeeds despite – even because of – its failure to match its stated function. Ultimately, while the song does not achieve its titular aim, it does manage to musically depict a fractured, multifaceted Europe facing the difficult task of reconciliation and cohesion, like bare branches striving to regrow their lost leaves. Its discordances and discontinuities may accurately reflect the state of Europe at the time of its composition.

Works Cited

 Preisner, Zbigniew. “Song for the Unification of Europe (Julie’s Version).” Trois Couleurs: Bleu, Blanc, Rouge (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack from the Three Colors Trilogy by Kieślowski), M2K, 2003.