Touring the Solar System with Holst's The Planets
V. Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age

The Planets, Op. 32

Holst presenting a listen guide for his The Planets's V. Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age
I'm Gustav Holst, and I'm pleased to guide you through V. Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age. You'll hear flutes, bassoons and harps tick like a slow clock, then solemn trombones, and finally tubular bells ringing out before the music fades away, which makes it the movement I loved best. Along with my fellow composers, I also teach you on this site to recognize our pieces when you hear them, so if you like,  try your hand at the Trainer  after listening.
---

Listen for the Clock That Never Clocks Out

Before you press play, I'd ask you to listen for a slow, steady ticking right at the start, because the whole movement grows out of it. Flutes, bassoons and harps play it, and it works like a clock that never skips a second and never hurries either. When the trombones come in with a solemn melody, let it rest on top of the ticking and notice how patient it sounds. Then wait for the tubular bells, because apart from the timpani they are the only percussion in the whole movement, so their arrival feels like a real event.

Why I Named Saturn After the Years

My starting point for the whole suite was astrology, not astronomy, and in astrology every planet has a character of its own. For Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age, I didn't want a gloomy old man shuffling about, but the feeling of time passing and the weight that the years carry. That's why the music is slow, and why it asks you to sit with it rather than push you along. I'm told Saturn was my favourite movement of the suite, and I won't argue with whoever said so.

No Sonata, No Rondo, Just a Long Walk

Choosing a form for Saturn was a puzzle, because I didn't want a neat sonata or a rondo that keeps coming home to the same tune. What I settled on is closer to a single long arc: it begins with the ticking, gathers weight little by little, reaches one huge peak and then lets go. Along the way there are a few brief animato bursts and a later Andante section, so the pace is never quite as still as it first seems. I'll take you through it in five steps, and each one is easy to recognise once you know what to listen for.

Section 1: The Clock Wakes Up

The movement opens Adagio in 4/4, which simply means slow, with four beats to the bar. Flutes, bassoons and harps set the ticking going, and it sounds like a clock in a very quiet room. Nothing happens quickly here, and that is exactly the point, because you are being asked to settle into a different sense of time. The mood is hushed and a little uneasy, like the moment before someone begins to speak.

Section 2: The Trombones Clear Their Throats

Next the trombones bring in a solemn melody, and it is the first tune you can really hold on to. It moves slowly and gravely, while the ticking carries on underneath as if nothing could ever stop it. Every so often the music stirs in brief animato bursts, which means a little more life and speed for a moment before it settles back. Those small flickers matter, because they make the slow stretches feel heavier when they return.

Section 3: The Music Changes Its Step

Later comes an Andante section in 3/2, and the feeling of the beat changes with it. Andante means a walking pace, so after the stillness of the opening the music seems to be moving forward with some purpose. Yet the three long beats in each bar keep it broad and unhurried, so it never turns into a brisk stroll. The mood here is less frozen and more reflective, like looking back over a long road.

Section 4: The Bells Arrive

Now the music builds to a loud climax, marked triple-forte, which is as loud as I ask for in this movement. This is where the tubular bells ring out, and they sound like something very large and very old being struck. The weight of the whole orchestra gathers around them, and the ticking from the opening seems to have become something enormous. If you have been listening patiently, this is the moment where the patience pays off.

Section 5: The Lights Go Down

After the climax the music doesn't stop abruptly, but fades quietly. The sound thins out and the energy drains away, until what is left is gentle and calm. I find it the most moving part, because the loudness has passed and what remains feels like acceptance. Notice how the movement ends in quiet, because that is the answer I wanted to give to old age.

Over to You and the Play Button

Now I invite you to hear Saturn for yourself, so press play and let it take its time with you. As you listen, keep an ear out for the ticking, the trombones, the change to 3/2 and finally the bells. You don't need to know anything about music, because the slow pace leaves plenty of room to notice each of them. I hope you find the journey as rewarding as I did when I wrote it.
---
I hope you enjoyed learning about V. Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age, and that you found something new to notice the next time you hear it. Looking back, it's a movement that begins with a ticking clock and ends by fading away so quietly that you almost don't notice the moment the sound is gone. I'm told it was my favourite movement of the whole suite, and I think that's because it never hurries and never pretends to be anything other than what it is. There's still a great deal more to discover in The Planets, from the stories behind the suite to the other movements, each with a character of its own. If you'd like to keep exploring, please click on the links provided and carry on listening. Old age, in my music, is not a sad ending but a slow and thoughtful settling, and I hope you'll come back to it whenever you feel like sitting quietly for a while.