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.

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.

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.

Messiaen

I posted this message onto my feed on Facebook: "Immersing myself in Messiaen, and I recommend you do the same."

I am an irreligious person. I don't believe in a hereafter, there's no life after this one. Feel free to disagree if you wish.

Messiaen's music is the closest I can come to an argument in favor of an almighty being. It's true, he was a mystical Catholic. Many of the titles of his works are drawn from Christianity.

But it's more than that. There's something about his music that I find at times to be almost overwhelming. I want to drown in the sound. I revel in the beauty. And I love his expansive ideas of what beautiful sound can be.

We know Messiaen the composer (I hope. If not, get hip immediately). Then there's Messiaen the teacher, whose students included Karlheinz Stockhausen, Pierre Boulez, Luigi Nono, and Iannis Xenakis.

But what of Messiaen the improvisor? Unless there are tapes out there that I don't know, this is as lost to time as Beethoven or Bach the improvisor.

I'm recalling this from a book of interviews I read a long time ago, but...Olivier was the organist at a Paris church for decades. On a given Sunday, there would be three services.  He said something about how, for the first service, he'd improvise something in the style of Bach. For the second service he'd improvise something in the style of Mozart or Debussy. (This is where the details of my memory fail.) For the third service, he'd improvise something in the style of Messiaen.

This is where I say, DAMN. Can you imagine? Sitting in a cathedral, the master sitting at the console, improvising something. A classical style, his style, whatever. He said that the priests were more accepting of his music than the parishioners. Think about it: Olivier Messiaen: The Basement Tapes. I'd pay for that.

Addendum: I've been informed that there is film footage of Messiaen improvising at the organ. I stand corrected on that point. Which leads me to wonder: did he intentionally want less of his improvising documented, because it would draw attention away from his compositions? Maybe that's not quite the correct way to word it, just that in general he wanted his reputation to be as a composer first and foremost.

2020 in memoriam as of April 18

It seems to be pretty self-evident that 2020 is going to be a tough year for everyone. I wanted to take stock of the musicians that have passed away so far this year. It's rough. In no particular order, and those marked * are confirmed or believed to have died from covid-19-related symptoms.

Charles Wuorinen, John Prine*, Henry Grimes*, Hal Willner*, Ellis Marsalis*, Wallace Roney*, Adam Schlesinger*, Bill Withers, Krzysztof Penderecki, Kenny Rogers, David Olney, Neil Peart, Lee Konitz*, Eddy Davis*, Bucky Pizzarelli*, Joe Diffie*, Alan Merrill*, Manu Dibango*, Genesis Breyer P-Orridge, Keith Olsen, Dan Burrows, McCoy Tyner, Lyle Mays, Andy Gill, Jimmy Heath, Giuseppi Logan*.

That list isn't even complete, I'm sure someone reading this might include more people. I don't know who some of those people are, and I'm sure I am not particularly interested in some of their music. Nonetheless, I mourn the loss of any truly creative person.

This list will by nature grow in the coming months, and we have to prepare ourselves that more musicians will pass specifically due to the pandemic.

Sorry to be so gloomy. I wanted to acknowledge those people, but I also want to use it as an opportunity to encourage you to support those who are still with us. Quite a few of my friends rely on playing music live as their primary source of income. This is a particularly tough time for them.

If you have the resources to do so, buying a CD/digital download or band t-shirt has never meant more. This listing of a virtual Pittsburgh musician tip jar has been set up:
https://www.dropbox.com/s/v2m9nvrtsqcp32m/Pittsburgh%20Musician%20Virtual%20Tip%20Jar.xlsx?dl=0&fbclid=IwAR0pMfjaUbJm9sInRZDy41jpI5s7D7di38OllR4tEz49mDDwrccRA1MB8zo

We're in a time when a lot of people are asking you for money, and some of you simply don't have it to begin with. Don't feel pressured.

I also don't want you to think that this is self-serving. I would never discourage anyone from buying any of my recordings, but otherwise, I don't want your money. I'm doing fine and still have a steady income from teaching. If you were inclined to "tip" me, think of someone else instead and give them something. $5 can mean a meal.

I've never been certain if I'm more of an optimist or pessimist by nature. Certainly some of both, and probably a frustrated optimist more than anything. For as frightening and depressing as the world can be right now, I remain hopeful that some good will come from all of this. Without minimizing how terrible things have been for some people, maybe it's a good thing that some of us have been forced to slow down and reflect in recent weeks.

To those who have passed, I salute you and celebrate your work. For those still with us, I support you and recognize your work.

March 24

Yesterday I listened to Marc Maron being interviewed by Terry Gross on Fresh Air. He mentioned something that came as a surprise to me, that he attended the Lighthouse Music and Arts Camp. I also attended the camp, two consecutive summers, so there's a good likelihood we were there at the same time. Even though we're the same age (separated by a few months), I am pretty certain we were not in the same cabin together.

Marc mentioned Hankus Netsky, who taught at the camp for years. Terry knew the name immediately, having interviewed Hankus at least once or twice in the past. Hankus was then young faculty at New England Conservatory, and still teaching there today.

I played in the camp big band my second summer there. I recall that we were playing an arrangement of "Manteca". It was handwritten, unpublished. There was one passage in which my part had a line, by myself, that sound really wrong. As in, clearly incorrect. I was sitting next to Ed Jackson, himself a NEC student at the time. He asked what I was doing wrong, so I played the passage and was clearly doing everything as written.

Hankus listened and said, "Jazz is all about the wrong notes. Leave it in." That was influential on me for sure.