The Art of Stillness

Some composers build grand cathedrals of sound—intricate, towering, full of motion.

And then there are those who strip everything away, revealing only what is essential.

Arvo Pärt belongs to the latter.

His music does not chase, does not demand. It lingers. It breathes. It exists in a space where silence is as meaningful as sound. Inspired by the purity of early sacred music, he shaped a language of his own—tintinnabuli—where each note shimmers like a bell, suspended in time, simple yet infinite.

Listening to Pärt is like stepping into a quiet chapel, where the air itself seems to hum with something beyond words. His compositions do not tell stories; they unfold like light shifting across a room, like water reflecting the sky.

And nowhere is this more true than in Spiegel im Spiegel.

It is music that feels like looking into eternity. A violin (or cello) and piano, moving in a slow, weightless dance, as if tracing the ripples of a still pond. Few melodies carry such quiet power—where each note feels like a breath, a step into the unknown, a reflection stretching into infinity.

If you’ve never heard it, take a moment. Find a quiet place. Close your eyes. And let it carry you. It´s at the top of my Piano Peace playlist today, see it here.

Enjoy, and have a nice, peaceful day.

Claudio.