What strikes me most when listening to L’Histoire du Soldat is how Stravinsky seems to delight in oscillating between the playful and the whimsical without ever losing the technical complexity and personal voice that define all his works. In this piece, we find many of his characteristic compositional techniques, but above all, a deep dive into the rhythmic playfulness that so distinctly marks his style.

Ostinati 

From the very beginning, we are struck by the stylistic approach that permeates the entire work—both in terms of its narrative and musical structure. One of the most prominent features is the use of ostinati: repeating patterns that evolve actively and are never truly repetitive. At times, these ostinati form the foundational layer upon which everything else is built (as in the "Marche" sections), while in other passages, they are more subtle, shorter, and almost hidden, such as in the "Pastorale" section discussed below. This technique is one of the aspects that draws me most strongly to Stravinsky’s music.

After a few introductory bars, the “Marche du Soldat” opens with a double bass ostinato typical of a march (though, characteristically Stravinsky, it spans a major ninth instead of the more common octave). This figure becomes the foundation upon which all melodic material is constructed. What is fascinating about this use of a rhythmic cell is how the metric tension that arises from the overlaying melody creates a game of misalignment and subsequent realignment between the layers. This interplay generates motion, development, and narrative within what initially appears to be a simple motif.

This allows Stravinsky to create a kind of “controlled chaos,” in which complexity and rhythmic layering emerge from seemingly clear and simple material. Nothing in Stravinsky’s writing is accidental; this effect is the result of deliberate experimentation and highly developed techniques. Let us examine a few examples:

One method for generating metric tension is the strategic displacement of melodic entries (as seen in Fig. 1), which shifts the balance of each phrase. These phrases are never repeated identically but are constantly evolving through slight changes in range to accommodate the desired phrase length. However, this displacement also introduces rhythmic ambiguity; when taken out of context, the listener may lose the sense of the downbeat, resulting in confusion. To navigate this ambiguity, Stravinsky employs a variety of meters—particularly the 3/8 measure—which serves both to shift the entire structure and to restore order by returning to the original 2/4 time.

It is essential to highlight how carefully Stravinsky introduces each rhythmic change in order to acclimate the listener to these metric games and preserve a sense of continuity despite constant shifts in meter. This careful approach culminates at rehearsal number 10, where the thematic material presented earlier is fully developed.

Metrical Conflict

This playful tension between the ambiguous and the whimsical begins relatively simply, through small thematic displacements and phrase bouncing between instruments, but it gradually becomes more intricate. The clearest example occurs at rehearsal number 8, where a more extended and complex exploration of this "chaos" takes place. Here, the bass ostinato—by virtue of both its cadential implications and its placement—asserts such a strong downbeat that it disregards the metric accentuation of the overlying melody (see Fig. 3). The result is a superimposition of two competing metric layers.

In this section, the introduction of a longer percussion pattern and the detachment of the violin line from the bass ostinato further intensify rhythmic complexity and ambiguity. This effect is prolonged by the development of the melody (see Fig. 5), which contains its own internal repetitive patterns. The chromatic development of the melodic fragment only enhances the grotesque character of this section, which in just a few measures manages to synthesize all the elements of the piece in a fully developed form. Moreover, whereas previously the 3/8 bar had been subtly employed as a tool to restore balance by quickly returning to 2/4, here it oscillates persistently between 3/4 and 3/8 before finally resolving back into the original ostinato heard at the beginning of the piece.

Here below I attach the score transported in concert and a video for checking all these sections above

While all the marches in the work ("Marche du Soldat," "Grande Marche," and "Marche Royale du Diable") display a clear and deliberate approach to rhythmic construction, I found it particularly interesting to examine a shorter, transitional piece such as the "Pastorale."

In this example, ostinati and repetitions are reduced to small cells, which appear briefly in a section shared between the clarinet and bassoon (Fig. 6) and play a far more minor role than in the “Marche du Soldat.” Notably, in the second voice—the bassoon—the use of only two notes (F# and G#) is elongated and stretched across the few bars that present the thematic material. This becomes even more evident when both melodies are transcribed without changes in meter or bar lines (Fig. 7), confirming that the desired outcome is the deliberate desynchronization of the two voices to enhance narrative expression.

Rhythmic Loops and Differentiated Timbres

In discussing the use of ostinatos, loops, and repetition, I would like to reference a work that employs these elements in a way quite distinct from the pieces previously analyzed—one in which bare repetition becomes the central expressive tool.

In the first movement of Three Pieces for String Quartet by Igor Stravinsky, we encounter four distinct rhythmic layers, each assigned to one of the instruments, each fulfilling a specific role: the cello establishes the rhythmic foundation; the viola reinforces this with pizzicato gestures, while also sustaining a long tone resembling a drone; the second violin repeats a four-note phrase (sometimes doubled into an eight-note unit); and the first violin performs a melody that is rhythmically independent. All of this is framed within a repeating cycle of mixed meters: 3 + 2 + 2 (see fig. 8).

Stravinsky’s aim appears to be the construction of four independent rhythmic worlds that coexist without blending into uniformity. To achieve this, he employs a tool typical of his compositional voice: differentiated timbres. Each instrument is assigned a unique sound character, as follows:

• Violin I is played entirely sul G (on the G string), creating a high, strained register that is technically challenging. The added instruction "using the full bow" suggests a specific sonic image—not one of a conventional first violin role.

• Violin II is given a dry and percussive articulation, as indicated by the instruction "au talon" (at the frog), also on the G string.

• The viola combines the pizzicato gestures reminiscent of the cello with a long sustained tone that functions as a kind of drone—an extremely demanding technique to perform simultaneously.

• The cello has a characteristically percussive timbre, further emphasizing its foundational rhythmic role.

Melodic Development and Construction

The fact that the musical phrases are repeated almost identically allows us to examine the underlying principles of construction. If we notate the pitch content in sequence, a clear distribution emerges (fig. 9). 

We observe that the violins move in a diatonic space centered around a tritone (C♯–G), while the viola and cello follow a chromatic descent (E♭–D–D♭–C). This contrast in intervallic character enhances the individuality of each pattern, further reinforcing the distinct identities of the instrumental lines.

If we focus specifically on the phrase played by the first violin (fig. 10), we notice how Stravinsky develops a coherent rhythmic narrative using minimal material. Despite the reduced ambitus, he achieves variation through permutation—rearranging small motivic cells and placing them in different rhythmic contexts. This results in a compelling example of how a simple idea can be extended and developed with precision and imagination. In conclusion, this string quartet movement exemplifies Stravinsky’s meticulous craftsmanship in working with minimal elements—ostensibly simple, yet never lacking in structural depth or stylistic coherence. It serves as a powerful demonstration of how repetition, variation, and timbral distinction can be harnessed to construct a richly articulated musical language.