Messiaen disc 12

Livre d'orgue (1950); Le Livre du Saint Sacrement parts 1-6 (1984)

I've been reflecting on my comments on Messiaen's music thus far, and in particular the organ works. I think I haven't necessarily taken the right attitude with some of it. If the organ works are at times works of meditation, particularly of religious contemplation, then I don't think I approached some of the music properly.

Messiaen can be super-dramatic, even thrilling. But it's not everything he does. Sit back, allow things to happen, it doesn't need to be exciting.

I'm not trying to make myself like all of his works. I do find him to be among the most consistent of composers. I'm saying that if I expect the dramatic Messiaen and come across the contemplative Messiaen, perhaps I'm going in with the wrong expectations.

Livre d'Orgue, in seven movements, falls somewhere in between. The chromaticism of the quieter, more contemplative movements (i.e #2) gives the work an eerie sound. The first movement is a monophonic melody, no doubt one of his modes of values and intensities. I wouldn't mind being in the room with the instrument when the organist hits those immense pedal tones.

The birdsongs are back, specifically in the fourth movement.

Then there are some of massive cluster-ish chords, such as the opening and closing of movement 3, and there's that drama again.

As a whole it's a curious piece. The second through sixth movements all have some stated Catholic subtext, but the first and final movements are more formalist in nature. It seems gone are the times he wants to let the clouds open up with a huge major chord any longer (at least at this particular time in his career).

It would probably be more fair for me to listen to all of Le Livre du Saint Sacrement in one sitting, but I'm going to have to leave most of the movements for tomorrow, on the following disc. All combined, it's about 101 minutes.

It's a late work, and immediately feels like a mature, confident composition. As it should, by this time in his life. Generally gone, as far as I can hear, are the more severe formalist/modalist/serialist leanings mentioned earlier. Even if it's all clearly Messiaen, it doesn't sound much like his early music. It's not all big and dramatic, but it is generally more engaging than some of the organ music I previously listened to.

But again, I might need to check that opinion at a future date, re-evaluate some of the earlier works.

If I think of anything more to write about this work, I'll do that tomorrow. Or, more likely, go on other tangents.

Another day off

None of this really matters long term. My Messiaen listening project is nothing more than a personal project. 32 discs-32 days. I've listened to two discs in a day previously. I'm taking another day off. It's partly because I was productive today composing, so that takes precedence for sure.

Messiaen composed Méditations sur le Mystère de la Saint Trinité. If I recall, I wasn't sold on it entirely, but I might have to revisit the work. Charles Mingus composed Meditations on Integration. It might not go anywhere, but I've started to compose Meditations on Quarantine. I don't know if I'll succeed, but I have a minimum of one new separate piece out of the effort.

Today would have been Iannis Xenakis' birthday. Xenakis is unquestionably one of my favorite composers. I don't try in any way to emulate him, because, how in the world could I? Xenakis is on of Messiaen's most celebrated students, as well as Boulez, Stockhausen, Nono.

I've told this story many times, but I'll repeat it. Xenakis was the first guest artist at CMU was I was a freshman. I didn't know how significant that was at the time. He was brought in for a series of...believe it or not...computers and music! Yes, even then, that wasn't completely vanguard.

The series was sponsored by by both the computer science and music departments. He lectured to both departments. I didn't see it all, but out of curiosity I walked into his science department lecture. There was a lecture, sound, and a slide show involved.

I remember most specifically that he played Metastasis. It was played with a slide show demonstrating the graphs he used to determine the piece. It was also played at a jarringly loud volume. I wasn't sure that I was sold on this guy, but I was left with an impression. It wasn't long after that I bought a Xenakis LP at the Record Graveyard down the street. I still have it.

A decade and a half later, Xenakis was a guest again at CMU. I was just a fan and wasn't on faculty at the time. The CMU Philharmonic played Metastasis. It was surprisingly quiet.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n2O8bMlEijg

Messiaen disc 11

Prélude (1930); Verset pour la Fête de la Dédicace (1960); Monodie (1963); L'Ascension (1934); Messe de le Pentecôte (1949)

Mixed selection of more solo organ music from various times in Messiaen's career. Just as all the solo piano music was recorded by Roger Muraro for DG, so to Olivier Lautry recorded all the organ works.

I've generally paid less attention to the organ works because, as I've written previously, I sometimes don't find them to be some of the composer's most interesting work. That said, the third movement of L'Ascension was one of the first things by Messiaen that grabbed me. It was on an LP on Candide Records.

An aside: I'm not a completist, but if an album is on Candide, I will at least look it over. They released some standard classical fare (Mozart, Schubert), but also released some pretty significant modern era and avant-garde works. Messiaen, Stockhausen, Xenakis, Berio, Henze, Lutoslawski; decidedly not modern but unusual would be an album of Gesualdo; even an interesting collection of musique concréte works compiled by Ilhan Mimaroglu.

Back to this CD. I'm feeling the works on this a little more than some of the previous discs, though I still wouldn't rank most of it with the better piano works. I'm willing to admit that I probably just enjoy listening to the piano more.

Lautry plays wonderfully, as you might expect charged with recording the complete Messiaen organ repertoire for Deutsche Grammophon. I was wondering as I listened to this, if I would be able to start to hear his "hand" on these performances, distinctively from other interpreters? I suspect not as easily as I might hearing different pianists performing. Again, that may be on me.

I'm enjoying the early works on this particular disc. As I've also noted before, the music doesn't always have to be about drama, but they are the more dramatic pieces. I like that he's a pretty chromatic composer already, but will resolve to a major chord for effect. There's also some beautifully lyric sections to these work, such as the first and fourt movements of L'Ascension. Monodie, on the other hand, is decidedly not dramatic. It sounds a bit like an exercise to me.

Birdsong rears its head, so to speak, in Verset. I'm surprised there hasn't been more birdsong embedded in these organ works, but I still have several discs to do. I'll confess that this has been the first time since I started listening to these discs that I referred to the liner notes. I should probably be reading more.

The Messe...I do like the big, tone-clustery ending, but it's a pretty low-key work in general and I wonder again about the context of seeing this piece performed.

A day off

After listening to at least one CD a day of Messiaen for over a week, I'm taking a day off. L'Ascension is on the next disc, so I'm looking forward to that. I've just bought a bass clarinet, the first good one I've owned, and I'm enjoying blowing air through it.

Messiaen disc 10

Médiations sur le Mystère de la Sainte Trinité (1969) Olivier Latry, organist

What is it about Messiaen's music that I love? There is drama to be sure, but that's not always a quality that I like. Of Beethoven's music, it's the more understated works that I find most satisfying. I love Morton Feldman's music, which is often determinately anti-dramatic.

I love that Messiaen embraces a sense of beauty, but again, not all music is nor should be about beauty.

I definitely love his sense of harmony, which assumes that combinations of notes matter. That relates to the two previous paragraphs.

I love that he sounds like himself at (nearly) all times, this piece being no exception.

Melody is never out of the picture. Again, not necessarily everything I'm looking for, but I enjoy his sense of it.

I recall that I knew enough about Messiaen in college to talk about him to pianists and organists. They were disinterested in playing his music. Too weird, too abstruse, and inappropriate for the organ/church setting.

Assuming I was an organist of any ability, and that I had the discipline to do so, I'd devote myself to Messiaen's music. Personally, his organ music is generally not my favorite of his works, but what a beautiful thing to get inside of his sound-world.

For a few years, I was hired as a ringer for the CMU Wind Ensemble on baritone saxophone, because they had no sax majors at all. I enjoyed playing the wind ensemble works by Hindemith, Schoenberg, Gershwin. Twice, works by Messiaen for piano and winds (birdsong pieces) were programmed, and neither had saxophones! Come on man, I WANT to play this music!

I'm writing this as Médiations plays. I'm intermittently engaged and bored with it. Why is it that Messiaen's organ music, the instrument he himself was connected to, produced what I find to be some of his least interesting music? Does that say more about me than him?

Messiaen disc 9

Le Banquet céleste (1928), Offrande au Saint-Sacrement (1930), Diptyque (1929), Les Corps glorieux (1939).

More Messiaen organ music.

A tangent, with a point. In 1958, Iannis Xenakis created the piece Concret PH. It's an assemblage of recordings of charcoal burning, processed through filters. Also in 1958, Xenakis designed the Philips Pavilion for the Brussels World's Fair. It's an irregular building, based on hyperbolic paraboloids. There were 400+ speakers scattered through the space. Inside, for every two playings of Edgard Varèse's Poème électronique, there would be one playing of Concret PH. 

Why do I mention this?

I play Concret PH for students, and a point I make is that they nor I will ever experience what it was like to listen to that work in its original presentation. I may enjoy or even love the work now, but it's not the same was walking into a strangely shaped building, a random slide show projected on the walls, with this unidentifiable music playing.

I've written this story because, well, I don't find the much of the music on this disc especially interesting. Oh, it's pretty, eerily creepy sometimes. I don't hate it, it's fine, I don't love it.

But I'm going to give Messiaen something of a pass in that, I'm not experiencing these works in their original presentation. I think this was music meant to be heard, and contemplated on, in a grand Catholic cathedral.

I've written before that I am an irreligious person. As such, I'm not going to contemplate "The Almighty" in a church with this music playing. But I do believe that listening to these works in a grand setting, stained glass shining down, would transform the experience.

These works do have moments I find exciting, such as the grand contrabassoon-like opening to the fourth movement Les Corps ("Combat of Death and Life"), or the clusters of chords in that movement. Wow, okay, bring me to Jesus, Olivier!

Well, not so much. Even my love and respect for Messiaen's music is not going to convert me. But it's one of the greatest arguments in favor of Catholicism I can imagine.

These organ works, generally early in his career, do demonstrate his love of harmonic possibilities, and show a sense of orchestration too (various stop settings are often dramatically different).

There are four CDs worth of organ music to go in this box set. I know particular pieces I will love, but this will seem slower than the solo piano music.

Messiaen disc 8

Organ music: Apparition de l'Église éternelle (1932)/La Nativité du Seigneur (1935)

In the narrative of the 32-CD box set, we've moved from the solo piano music to the organ works.

Messiaen was an organist. Which meant he played some piano, but devoted himself to that church-oriented instrument.

There's a purity to the sound of the organ. The debate over the centuries about Pythagorean tunings vs. equal temperament, had largely to do with the pure sound of the organ in churches. Equal temperament won out, and not necessarily for the worst.

As for the music:

Apparition de l'Énglise éternelle (Vision of the Eternal Church) is...how can I put this...one of the most emotionally stirring pieces that I know.

It's a series of slowly played chords. That's all. Yes, there's a small element of rhythm, but it has to do with lengths of tensions more than a pushing forward of time. But if you speak of the piece being rhythmic? Not really.

The chords, the tensions, the resolutions: it's amazing. Vision of the eternal church. The piece begins very quietly, builds, builds more, feels like the heavens are opened up, then backs away slowly. The church in the past, present, and future. At least, how I interpret the piece.

There's a short film of people listening to this work, without being told in advance what it is. The reactions, as you might expect, are varied. Among the most interesting yet disappointing was John Cameron Mitchell, director of Shortbus and co-creator of Hedwig and the Angry Inch. He started taking a knife to the headphones, stabbing one side. I saw a production of Hedwig, and it didn't make me want to stab my ear with a knife, but I found it to be utterly boring.

I love this work. I feel it. I marvel at its tensions and releases. If Messiaen had written nothing else, he would have proven himself a master of harmonic tension and release with this piece alone. I don't care a bout the programmatic subtext.

As for La Nativité du Seigneur, well it has it moments. I think it would be wonderful to see performed, but otherwise it seems very church-y. There are some powerful moments to be sure, but I'm only mid-way through listening to this piece, and I want to move on.

But, I am dedicated to listening to all 32 CDs on this set. They all can't be Turangalîla. And I don't hate the organ works, but I'm just not devoted to them.

Note: the seventh movement of  La Nativité du Seigneur, at times recalls the grandeur of the earlier work, and even presages Turangalîla. Fragments to be sure, but I hear them.

What was happening in organ music in the 1930s? I have to take that into account. I don't think many composers were writing new, and new conception, pieces for the instrument.

The final movement hits deep. I have to wonder about seeing this work performed in its native element. I have a cinematic reference, but I think I'll leave that until my next posting.