Analysis Of Through A Glass Darkly

thematically and ideates the “music as an emotional bridge where words fail.” (2013, p. 27-28) As with Bergman’s other aural elements in Through a Glass Darkly, the music is used sparingly (following Bergman’s signature style of reducing his soundscapes) and serves a thematic purpose (following Bergman’s thematic signature of human communication). However, Pua’s analysis does not integrate the sarabande’s meaning as part of an entire other body of work — that is, Bach’s — into the film’s constructed meaning. The Silence also follows a similar pattern of sound usage, which is highly important in the consideration of Bergman as an auteur. As Sarris said, “…the auteur theory is a pattern theory…” (2004, p. 563) With Bergman’s pattern of minimalism
within his films’ soundscapes, the film certainly follows suit. Another pattern is Bergman’s continued use of aural motifs; here, it is the clock ticking motif, a distinctive sound that he included in another trilogy film, Winter Light, and one that he would revisit in Cries and Whispers. A third pattern is the use of Bach’s music again — in The Silence, it is from the Goldberg Variations, Variation 25 (Renaud, 2013). Bergman uses audio minimalism to great effect in The Silence. As Pua describes it, “[without] restraint, The Silence shows the full force of all which silence encompasses.” (2013, p. 46) The film is marked by intense periods of silence that serve to formally augment situations of disconnection and isolation. When Anna, Ester, and Johan first arrive at their hotel in a foreign land, Johan observes the city through an open window, with diegetic sound streaming in. However, an intense period of silence occurs after Anna shuts the window and blocks out the diegetic street noise. This highlights an initial disconnection between the three family members and the city in which they have stopped, which later manifests itself in the communication barriers that all three family members face. Thus, the silence serves as a stylistic motif here, but also as a thematic reinforcement to Bergman’s signature meditations on human connection and communication. Knowing Bergman’s gloomy reputation, it is no wonder that his films feature death in various formats — The Silence is no exception. Ester is physically ill and is on the verge of death throughout the entire film; the strange city in which the family finds themselves seems to be on the brink of war or in the midst of it (war being a variation on death), given that a tank rolls through the street by the hotel at night. Thematically, these are both examples of Bergman the auteur’s preoccupation with death. However, these are not the only ways in which Bergman ruminates on death. The Silence opens with a credits sequence, underpinned by the rapid ticking of a clock. In Winter Light, a (slower) clock ticking is also heard during the pivotal scene between Pastor Tomas and Jonas which eventually leads to Jonas’ suicide. The concept of death is brought up in various ways during that conversation — nuclear war, suicide, good health, etc. The ticking of the clock in that scene is a reminder of time passing and therefore, a reminder of time running out. Similarly, in Cries and Whispers, multiple clocks chime and tick away while Agnes nears death. As it appears in The Silence, this rapid ticking serves a similar portentous purpose as foghorns do in Through a Glass Darkly. It underpins the opening credits to the film and foreshadows the film’s preoccupation with death; furthermore, it hints at the brief time that Ester has before her eventual death at the end of the film. This persistent concern with time and death is a thematic concern for Bergman, but as evidenced by his symbolic use of the sound of ticking, is also a stylistic concern for Bergman the auteur. Bach’s music makes another appearance in The Silence; however, it differs from Bach’s appearance in Through a Glass Darkly in that Bach appears in the soundtrack in the latter film.
In The Silence, Bach’s music features in a diegetic manner. Anna, Ester, and Johan are all in the hotel, listening to Goldberg Variations, Variation 25 on Ester’s radio. The hotel’s porter comes in with room service, which he sets down on the small table between him and Ester, where the radio is also situated. Because the family is in a foreign land, they cannot understand the language. However, the music is a source of connection between Ester and the porter, despite the massive communication barrier. The two exchange words to feel out each other’s language, finding commonalities in their respective words for “music,” as well as their mutual understanding that it is Bach’s music being played on the radio. In a figurative sense, Bach’s music serves as a source of communion between Ester and the porter. Onscreen, Bergman stages the scene to place the radio between Ester and the porter such that the radio is a literal connection between the two. As Livingston says, “Ester, in her loneliness and sickness, suddenly finds relief in sharing this music with the old waiter … nodding happily in recognition of the music.” (1982, p.
249) In this, Bergman’s use of Bach is similar to his use of Bach in Through a Glass Darkly. In that film, Bach is used to fill the gap of human silence and conceives of music as an emotional bridge. In The Silence, Bach is assuredly used to bridge the gap between two people, albeit with lighter emotional connotations. Regardless, this continued usage constitutes a motif and a thematic personality trait for Bergman. However, reading this scene through the auteur lens takes the music in and of itself at face value in the film — it fails to account for the history and the independent artistic and cultural weight that the Goldberg Variations bear. Thus, accounting for the artistic and cultural meaning that Bach’s music relays, the totality of artistic meaning and impact that viewers derive from Through a Glass Darkly and The