Sunday, May 24, 2020

Messiaen disc 7

Catalogue d'oiseaux, Books 6-7

So we come to the end of the solo piano portion of the 32-CD Messiaen DG box set. There might be more solo piano music, and if it's available to hear, I'll seek it out once I'm through this brick of CDs.

I know there are at least a few pieces missing from this set. Mostly notably for me is "Oraison", a piece from 1937 for four ondes Martenot, recycled in the Quartet for the End of Time. I guess I'll bring that up when that work comes up later in the collection of discs.

As for the current disc, the final 45 minutes of Catalog of the Birds, I don't know that I can describe the music any more than I already have. I can mention more personal anecdotes and tangents.

A little more about Michael Pestel. Michael made a project of editing recordings of Messiaen's birdsong recreations (specifically from this work) with field recordings of the real thing. He played a few for me. I can see where Messiaen was coming from, but at times it was...highly interpretive. That's fine. How do you represent a flock of flying curlews on the twelve-tone keys of the piano?

Michael sometimes plays the "bird machine". It's a (contra?-)bass recorder, square like an organ pipe, mounted on a stand. He built a curved wing on each side, where he holds various bird calls and whistles.

I can't say for certain whether this is true, but he claimed to have been the second musician to go into the wilds of Australia to listen and play with the lyrebird. The first was Messiaen, he has said. Maybe?

The lyrebird is an amazing creature, to be certain. The cliche would be, it's like a mockingbird on steroids. The male lyrebird collects birdsongs, or for that matter environmental sounds, in a long collection, apparently to attract a mate. Despite being dull grey and brown, it also has impressive mating plumage.

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I'm going on faulty memory on some of the following, so if anyone involved can correct me, I'm happy to acknowledge it.

My friend tENTATIVELY, a cONVENIENCE organized a series of mms, or music meetings. Mostly it was a social listening party, at first. As time went on, the meetings would become thematic. He'd collect audio/video (vaudio, in his lexicon) for his endlessly complex (anti-)opera. There were some performances, including one by Gen Ken Montgomery.

One music meeting centered on Messiaen, with a guest speaker who had written a dissertation on Messiaen's music. I am interested, believe me. I don't recall her name, and I'm uncertain that I would share it on this forum even if I did.

She told, early on, of the struggles writing a dissertation on Messiaen in France, that was in any way critical of him. I don't agree with that. Messiaen was hardly a perfect person, but his music still has great power to me. He is more or less deified in France. Her dissertation had to be published off-land. Yvonne Loriod was alive at the time and had great control over her late husband's legacy.

I remember two major points she made. One was, with respect to the birdsong transcriptions, Messiaen would sometimes fudge the results. There are the obvious things: notes played faster than human capability, microtones, extreme pitches ranges.

But then there were decisions. If a bird would make a sound four times, Messiaen might reduce it to three, to represent the trinity.

This wouldn't be so important if Messiaen didn't represent himself as an authority on birdsong. But he did. Why?

That would be the second point. Messiaen at one time in the post-war era was seen as being old-fashioned. His students (Boulez, Stockhausen, Nono, Xenakis) had overtaken him as the vanguard. And, he was Catholic. So, Olivier created a story (myth?) around himself as the birdsong authority. He was giving you what was happening in the real world! And otherwise, his music became more strident. He wanted to prove he could keep up with the kids. He wrote some of the all-birdsong pieces around this time. I said this was "careerist".

I understand the need to stay current. And the thing is, I like those works. Wind ensemble with piano pushing out birdsongs.

But you know what? I still love the music. Birdsong-centric or not. And that's where I say, I want to see the hand of the composer. I don't need him to recreate nature so much as I want him to transform it.

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I have delighted in a robin's nest, set in the bush next my front door. I've also enjoyed the app downloaded to my phone, the records and identifies birdsongs and calls. Turns out there's a northern flicker that calls out near my house every morning and evening. I've never seen it at my feeder, but that was mildly exciting.

The solo organ music comes next. I know of a few delights there, but I'm not as excited otherwise.



Saturday, May 23, 2020

Messiaen disc 6

Catalogue d'oiseaux, books 4-5

Back again. The beginning of book 4, "The Reed Warbler", moves with great rapidity.

I'm uncertain I have anything to say about these pieces apart from what I wrote about the previous disc, so I'll share related stories.

I haven't worked with Michael Pestel for a few years. I'm sure we will again. We had a group together, Syrinx Ensemble, that was dedicated to improvising in spaces with birds. Thankfully, Pittsburgh has one of the best (and only?) aviaries in the US, the (now-called) National Aviary.

Aside: I didn't grow up in Pittsburgh, but my grandparents lived in the North Hills. I remember visiting the aviary several times in my youth, it was one of my favorite places my grandfather would take us to visit.

One way Michael convinced Anthony Braxton to play Pittsburgh was to give him the opportunity to engage in some interspecies communication with the birds in the aviary. We all did two performances together, in addition to other Syrinx performances there. Michael, tENTATIVELY a cONVENIENCE and I, with a butoh dancer, also did a performance at the aviary that was beautiful as I recall.

I can tell you from the aviary performances, flamingoes (possibly dominant males?) respond to the lowest frequencies of the contrabass clarinet. Scrub jays are responsive in general, I recall to the clarinet. The aviary had a grey trumpeter that was highly acclimated to humans, known to pick food from kids' hands. He was unafraid to come over and mix it up with us.

Some years later, he and I did a performance at the Miller Gallery at CMU. He cut up pieces of Catalogue d'oiseaux, tossed them on the floor. Flute students acted like pigeons, fluttering about, reading pieces of the score. Then he and I swept them off the stage, and swept the score fragments away, using contrabass clarinets he had made out of brooms. It was so enjoyable, and the students really got into the spirit of the work.

Syrinx Ensemble did two gigs at the Central Park Zoo, that included playing in the tropical house and duck pond. Included on some of those gigs were flutist Robert Dick, and vocalist Caterina De Re. I've admired Robert for many years, his books on the flute are essential for any flutist/reed player/composer interested in the subject. He asked me to hold his flute at one point, so he could check his phone or something, and I said, "Uhhhh um okay!" It had at least ten extra keys or extensions of keys.

I'm attaching two photos below. The first is of Syrinx in the tropical room at the CPZ: Michael, me, and Robert left to right. The second is of me with Caterina. I'm not proud. I couldn't possibly look nerdier next to that presence next to me with the Thai finger add-ons.

I'll finish with Catalogue d'oiseaux tomorrow.

Messiaen disc 5

Catalogue d'oiseaux (1956-58) Books 1-3

Unlike listening to the entirety of Vingt Regards yesterday (just under two hours), I doubt I'm going to listen to this entire work today.

What a strangely obsessive work. I think it's reasonable to question why it needed to be as long as it is, clocking in at over about two and a half hours. That said, there is a wealth of ideas throughout the piece.

Each movement, unless I haven't listened to an exception, takes on a similar form: the composer introduces thematic material, and switches back and forth between his birdsong transcriptions and "original" material. Occasionally it's difficult to tell which is which, though I've seen the score previously and know that the name of each bird is written into the score.

It seems so odd that he most often used the piano, the most un-bird-like of instruments, to express the voices of birds. The question of just how accurately he represents birdsongs on the piano, or in general, is a question for debate. A former academic coworker was an expert on Messiaen. When the university wind ensemble played one of the birdsong works, he introduced the work with a short talk about this very subject.

Messiaen was often photographed in a meadow or field, staff paper in hand, transcribing birdsongs. This academic (whose name I won't provide, for other reasons) had studied some of Messiaen's original transcriptions and found names written in English. Messiaen only spoke French, refused to learn another language. What this academic person discovered was that the names were copied from a particular LP of field recordings of birds. He also said, Messiaen gets it right more often than not, that his transcriptions are convincing.

I will return to this topic in a future posting.

Much as the writing is very beautiful in this work, I'd say I generally prefer the Vingt Regards. It's broader and more varied in compositional scope. With so many birdsongs flying by, so to speak, I have to admit recalling only a few passages from previously listening to this piece. The second movement, "Loriot d'Europe", I definitely recalled. It begins with a lovely series of soft chords, interrupted by a birdsong (I assume the oriole the movement is named for) that I think recognize from here and other works. It's probably no coincidence that the loriot/oriole, and his wife's name of Loriod, would have meant a great deal to the composer.

With two more discs' worth of this piece, there's more to write in future postings.



Friday, May 22, 2020

Messiaen disc 4

Vingt Regards sur l'Enfant-Jésus (second half, parts 11-20)

It is all one piece, so I might as well knock this off in a day. That makes it sound like drudgery, I do genuinely love the music and am enjoying digging into the Messiaen library more deeply than ever.

With the addition of the Olivier Messiaen: Complete Edition to my personal library, I came to realize that I have four recordings of this composition. I've never A-B'ed any two or more of them. The one difference I can tell is the tempo of the opening movement.

Not that it matters, but I have it on vinyl played by Michel Béroff; I bought that at a record sale held by WQED; pay $5 and take away as much as you want. I took about forty records/sets, and I don't think I was being greedy. There's a card on the front to log in all the plays it received over the air. One movement was played one time.

I also have the version released on CD on Melodiya (!), and a more recent performance by Pierre-Laurent Aimard. He's supposed to be the authority on this work, and I've heard of him taking the stage and playing it by memory.

A casual search online will show that this piece has been recorded many times. If I actually was to seek out another, it would probably be that of Yvonne Loriod, the composer's wife. She was also known to take the stage playing her husband's works by memory. This piece is dedicated to her.

Roger Muraro has been the pianist on all of the piano music so far on this box set. I don't know how much better Airmard is, I'd have to study both recordings with the score to have any idea.

And I have a copy of the score! It was sold off by the University of Chicago library, from the estate of Easley Blackwood. My friend Rob bought it for me. I thought, well, it's at the library, do I really need a copy? Now with all the libraries closed,  I'm thrilled to have that score and others. It's falling apart but complete. There are fingerings pencilled into one movement, so he must have played and taught some of this piece in his courses.

Blackwood was a respectable academic composer himself. I've heard pieces I liked, some that didn't move me. Rob sent me other scores as well, including a copy of Iannis Xenakis' Achorripsis. Inside the cover, written in Easley's hand, it reads: "Incredible that this 'composer' was ever taken serious." !!! Love it. Xenakis was one of Messiaen's students, though it boiled down to the teacher saying, "You need to use your mathematics for your music." (Not verbatim.) I'll admit that I don't find Achorripsis to be one of Xenakis' more exciting works, though I consider him to be another of my favorite composers.

I'm writing this text as the recording plays, and the music has come to a slower, more contemplative section. "Kiss of the infant Jesus." It's beautiful. (Just so happens, this was the movement that received a single play in WQED on vinyl.) And while I hate to point out a tiny portion of the work, the last 45 seconds of the previous movement (#14) is my favorite passage in the entire work.

I'd really like to see this performed some time, but I guess I have plenty of recordings until then.

I see that the next three discs are devoted to Catalog of the Birds, and then on to the organ works.


Messiaen disc 3

Vingt Regards sur l'Enfant-Jésus (1944), first half

One of the landmark pieces. Approximately two hours of solo piano music, much of it quite difficult.

I had been spending some time listening to this piece prior to buying the box set, so much of the music has remained fresh in my mind. While not an early-stage work, the composer was about 36 when this was composed. It's clear he had a fully-formed vision of the sound of his music by this time. Everything is here, except for his orchestration ability in larger ensemble works: birdsong, his use of modes and harmonies, identifiable thematic material vs. discontinuity, his use of regular vs. irregular rhythms. Oh, and his Catholicism. Twenty views/regards/contemplations on the infant Jesus.

What do I make of Messiaen's Catholicism, being irreligious myself? One thing I've said is, if more church music sounded like Messiaen, I might actually attend once in a while.

If he had simple titled this Twenty Studies and numbered each movement, I'd find the work no less engaging. But, especially listening to this first half again, what really comes through is Messiaen as a post-Romantic composer at heart. This is music you're intended to feel, to respond emotionally, and the Catholic subtext to each movement does give the composition a programmatic quality. It's not to the extent of Berlioz representing in sound the walk to the gallows in Symphonie Fantastique. Certainly though, titling the first movement "Contemplation of the Father",which is stately, beautiful, even dare I say "heavenly", it's clear the Catholic inspirations are in some way important to the composition.

All of which is to say, his Catholicism doesn't really mean much to me personally, but it means something to him. It helps drive his work, and I love the work. I even think, at a time when his fellow composers and students are often secular humanists and socialists, it's interesting that he stayed so steadfastly with his faith.

At least, I think he did. I can't say what he truly felt. But I'll accept that he maintained his faith during his lifetime.

It's difficult to summarize the music (as it often is with much music). Even the first hour covers a lot of ground, the music often being mercurial and changing direction swiftly. Three (or four?) particular themes appear multiple times through the work, giving the composition overall a strong sense of unity even when it moves swiftly through ideas.

As I listen to the piece though, I still wonder what he was thinking at times. I'm not complaining nor criticizing. The fourth movement, "Contemplation of the Virgin", starts with one of the most lyrical passages in the entire work, but quickly jumps to a series of broader and more active passages. How does that relate to the topic, I wonder?

How do we even get inside the mind of a composer, or other creative person? There are those works, more "classical" in nature, which can be studied and analyzed fairly effectively. It doesn't necessarily explain the inspiration, but you can trace the composer's methods. And while Messiaen is a methodical composer (having written volumes of books on the subject), he's intuitive and free-flowing enough that I can't always predict what he will, or what he was thinking.

I might listen to the second half later today, or maybe save it for tomorrow.

Thursday, May 21, 2020

Messiaen disc 2

Various piano works: Petites Esquisses d'oiseaux (1985), Quatre Etudes de rythme (1950), Cantéyodjayâ (1949), Rondeau (1943), Fantasie burlesque (1932), Prélude pour piano (1964), Pièce pour le tombeau de Paul Dukas (1935)

This album of shorter solo piano pieces spans most of Messiaen's career, making it an informative collection. This and I think everything else in the box set are repackaged separate releases, if my words move you to the point of seeking out the original issues. (Or hell, blow the money on the box set.)

From the opening note of Petites, you know you're listening to Messiaen. It's not the obsessive birdsong transcriptions, at least not for the first several notes. It's his choices of harmony that stand out here. This set of six short studies that are a bit like highly condensed versions of Catalog of the Birds, or the Garden Warbler piece I wrote about yesterday. He would have been in his 70s when he wrote these sketches, as he put it. If he's not going to sound like Messiaen at this point, who is he going to sound like?

A year or two back I checked out of the library a CD of new works by Steve Reich. I like Steve's music, and think Music for 18 Musicians is a critical work of the post-war (or post-post war?) composition. I listened to the recent works, and, well, it sounded like Steve Reich. It wasn't anything I hadn't heard from him before, but I thought, Steve Reich has earned the right to sound like Steve Reich. I think I like these sketches more than the recent Reich, but that's just my orientation in general I'd say.

The best known of the works on this CD, or at the least the most studied, would have to be the Quatre Etudes. Particularly the second movement, in English "Mode of values and intensities", was something of a model for post-war serialist composers. As one might expect, the four works don't sound so uniquely Messiaen-like, though he still manages to to maintain some of that lyricism I associate with his music. It doesn't sound as thorny or impenetrable as the serialized piano music of Stockhausen or Boulez.

I'm going to continue to write my thoughts on these pieces, but it's really all about the experience, is it not? I mean, that's self-evident. So when I write that Cantéyodjayâ, a work I've heard before, sounds more uniquely/indigenously Messiaen, what does that even mean? Certainly there's his use of harmony; some chords, progressions of chords, just sound like him. Even when he's not specifically composing one of the bird pieces, birdsong-like passages seem to happen anyway (even in the Quatre Etudes). All of these works sound more (generally) challenging and virtuosic than the earlier 8 Préludes I wrote about yesterday. He was not afraid to write hard music! But, importantly, not impossibly difficult music. Being an organist himself, and married to a virtuoso pianist, I sure he was well aware of the technical range and limitations of the instrument.

The remaining works on his collection, although spanning several decades, all some extent find Messiaen at his most "classical", if that even means anything. That's going to happen if you compose a rondo, for example. The two works from the 1930s definitely demonstrate that he's establishing himself as having a unique compositional voice at a fairly young age. He's not yet out of his 20s, and there are passages in both pieces that sound like they could have fit inside music later works.

Birdsong has already come up several times in these first two discs, but something that hasn't is his Catholicism. That changes tomorrow.

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

Messiaen disc 1


I've already written, here and on Facebook, about Messiaen recently. I've loved his music for years, and have been listening to a good deal recently.

So, I decided to spring for the 32-CD "Complete Edition" on Deutsche Grammophon. That title is deceptive, as there's a fair amount of his compositions not represented in this collection. It's everything that had been previously released on DG. I have a number of those, but at a bargain price and a lot of music I haven't heard before, I thought it was worth it.

So I'll be spending an hour each day going through the collection, and writing a few thoughts as part of a summer break/quarantine project.

Disc 1: 8 Préludes/La Fauvette Des Jardins

The collection starts with an hour of solo piano music, performed by Roger Muraro. I don't really know anything about Roger. He can occasionally be heard doing a little of what Glenn Gould is famous for doing: humming/singing the line as he plays. Roger doesn't do it nearly as much as Glenn does, and I find it makes the listening experience more interesting. It's good to know he really feels  the music, and doesn't just play the notes.

I don't think I've heard the Préludes before, or at least hadn't paid close attention to it. It's an early work, completed in 1929, when the composer was about 20-21 years of age. Not surprisingly, the music doesn't sound uniquely Messiaen-ic. Occasionally there's a chord, or a chord sequence, or voicing that pops up where I think, oh yes, that's Olivier.

That's not to say it's a tentative or immature work, it sounds like French post-Romantic/Impressionist piano music. The work probably displays the influence of Paul Dukas, one of Messiaen's teachers. Most of the movements aren't especially virtuosic in nature, focusing more on tonal color. That attention to harmony coloration would be a consistent element of his music for his entire career.

La Fauvette Des Jardins (Garden Warbler) dates to 1970, and feels very much like a follow-up piece to his massive Catalogue of the Birds of 1958. I had to look through the listing of movements for Catalog, to be certain it wasn't a displaced movement from that larger work.

Compositionally it unquestionably resembles the various movements of Catalog: thematic statements, perhaps motifs, are interspersed with birdsongs. Although the work is presented as a single track, it sounds as though it has several movements to it.

The topic of birdsongs in Messiaen's music, and in particular using the piano to perform them, is something I'll have to address in a future posting.

It's an interesting companion to the 8 Préludes: one of the composer's earliest published works that clocks in at approximately half an hour in total, with a later period work that is about the same length of time. The first prelude is titled The Dove, but otherwise there doesn't seem to be any bird references in the work. In the later piece, he's fully immersed and invested in his birdsong transcriptions. It's probably a far more difficult piece to play than the earlier work. The early piece is a much more clearly tonal sound to it, although it doesn't sound tied to strongly to the idea of tonal harmony. The later piece? It's far, far more chromatic in nature, particularly the birdsong sections. But, even at this later time, Messiaen will still throw in a major chord or open fifth here and there.

That's one of the things I love about Messiaen's compositions. The world of his music can include serial systems and major chords. He can follow a chord with ten notes in it, with a major or minor chord, then an open fifth or octave, and it's all of one piece. (I'm thinking of Apparition de l'Énglise éternelle in particular, which turns up on disc 6 of this collection.)

Disc 2 will be more solo piano music, also played by Roger Muraro.

Addendum: I wondered...I thought I heard of couple of coughs during the last piece on this disc. There's applause at the end. This was a live performance! Damn. Wish I could have been there.