Touring the Solar System with Holst's The Planets
VII. Neptune, the Mystic
The Planets, Op. 32

I'm Gustav Holst, and I'm about to explain VII. Neptune, the Mystic, the last movement of my suite. You'll hear a hushed, swaying piece that ends as two women's choruses sing without words from a room offstage, while the door is slowly closed and their voices fade into silence. Since my fellow composers and I also teach you on this site to recognize our pieces when you hear them, why not try your hand once Neptune has faded?
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Sit Back, Nothing Is Chasing You
Before you press play, I'd ask you to forget everything you know about tunes that march forward and arrive somewhere. In VII. Neptune, the Mystic, I keep the whole large orchestra quiet from the first note to the last, so you should turn the volume up a little and then resist the urge to turn it up any more. Listen for the brass, which sound two chords at once, and for the women's voices, which have no words at all and come from another room. Don't wait for a big moment, because the music sways and drifts, and the pleasure is in letting it carry you.Why a Mystic Lives at the End
My starting point for the whole suite was astrology, not astronomy and not mythology, and the idea came up in conversation on a holiday in Spain in 1913. The subtitle "the Mystic" comes from the astrological writings of Alan Leo, and it suited the music I had in mind: something hidden, hard to pin down and very far away. I didn't order the movements by distance from the Sun, but by what works best in a concert, and this one belongs last. After the noise and bustle of the others, I wanted the suite to end by simply thinning out into something you can't quite hold on to.No Sonata, No Rondo, No Map
Choosing a form for this movement was an adventure, because I didn't want the neat shape of a sonata or the comings and goings of a rondo. I didn't even give it a tempo marking, and the metre sways in an irregular way, so there's no beat for you to tap your foot to. What I did instead was let the music drift through a few distinct stages, and I'll take them one at a time. Think of it less as a building with rooms and more as a slow walk into a mist.Section 1: Stepping Into the Fog
The movement opens quietly and stays that way, with the orchestra swaying in its uneven rhythm and never settling into a steady pulse. I wanted you to lose your sense of where the bar lines are, so that time feels loose and a little dreamlike. Nothing here is in a hurry, and no tune arrives to tell you where you are. If you feel slightly unmoored at this point, then the music is doing exactly what I meant it to do.Section 2: Two Keys Share One Room
Here the brass do something that has no tidy name for a beginner: they sound chords of E minor and G-sharp minor together. Two keys that don't belong side by side hang in the air at the same moment, and the result is strange and glowing rather than harsh. This is the heart of the mystery, because your ear keeps looking for a home key and never quite finds one. The mood stays hushed, but it has shifted from a gentle sway to a feeling that something unseen is close by.Section 3: Voices From Next Door
Now two groups of women, each singing in three parts, join in without any words, and they sing from an adjoining room, screened from the audience. You can't see them, so the sound seems to come from nowhere in particular, like a neighbour's radio heard through a wall. The voices float over the orchestra and blend into it, and they make the music feel as if it reaches beyond the hall. The mood is still quiet, but it is now more distant and more wondering than before.Section 4: The Door Closes Softly
At the very end, the music is pianissimo, and the door to the singers' room is gradually closed. That means the voices don't stop, they simply get farther and farther away until they fade into silence. The ending is tonally uncertain, so there is no final chord to tell you that it's over, and you're left hanging in the best possible way. I like to think of it as the last thing you hear in the suite, and also the thing that lingers longest in the room afterwards.Your Turn to Drift Away
So now I'd like you to hear VII. Neptune, the Mystic for yourself, and all you need to do is press play. Find a quiet spot, let the sound wash over you, and keep in mind the swaying rhythm, the two clashing keys and the voices behind the wall. Don't worry if you can't say exactly what is happening, because that's part of the point. I hope the journey moves you as much as it moved me when I wrote it.---
I hope you enjoyed learning about Neptune, the Mystic, and that the guide gave you a few new things to listen for. For me this is the right place to end the suite, because the voices behind the door simply fade away until there is only silence. I wrote that ending so the music seems to drift beyond the edge of the room, and I still like the thought of listeners left quietly wondering where it went. There is much more of The Planets to explore, from the other movements to the story of how the whole suite came to be. If you'd like to keep going, please click on the links on this page and wander further through the suite at your own pace.
Best MomentsBackstoryListen Guide 1: I. Mars, the Bringer of WarListen Guide 2: II. Venus, the Bringer of PeaceListen Guide 3: III. Mercury, the Winged MessengerListen Guide 4: IV. Jupiter, the Bringer of JollityListen Guide 5: V. Saturn, the Bringer of Old AgeListen Guide 6: VI. Uranus, the MagicianMore about HolstLearn to recognize it when you hear it
