Pierre-Laurent Aimard – Photo: Marco Borggreve
Olivier Messiaen’s two-hour piano composition Vingt Regards sur l’Enfant-Jésus is an immense work of 20th century religious art, a gigantic cycle of meditations on the infant Jesus and the adorations bestowed upon him. For the pianist, the work presents phenomenal technical demands and requires Olympian stamina to perform. For the audience, it provides a most rare opportunity to be immersed in performance virtuosity and extraordinary artistic achievement in the context of fervid Christian Art.
The work was written at a time when Messiaen had been released from captivity in a prisoner of war camp at Görlitz during World War II. Three works were composed on his repatriation, all for his pupil and later wife, pianist, Yvonne Loriod: the Visions de l’Amen (for two pianos; the composer playing the second at its first performance), the uproarious Trois petites Liturgies de la Présence divine (for female chorus, piano, onde martinot and ensemble) and this work, written between 23 March and 8 September, 1944 and first performed by Yvonne Loriod in the Salle Gaveau, Paris on 26 March, 1945. (Throughout the work the four Greek words for love – agápe, éros, philía, and storgè – appear to merge into one.)
On this occasion we heard the distinguished French pianist, Pierre-Laurent Aimard, whose association with the composition has been long and intense. He studied with Yvonne Loriod and knew the composer personally. Further, Aimard travelled to Australia in 1988 as the pianist in Ensemble Intercontemporain (France’s specialist contemporary music ensemble) under the direction of composer, Pierre Boulez. Both the ensemble’s visit and that of Olivier Messiaen (as a living national treasure at that time) were France’s generous gift to Australia’s bicentenary celebrations in that year. The memory of this happy visit may well have been a factor behind the presentation of this extraordinary musical offering on Sunday evening.
Messiaen’s tonal language stems from seven modes (neither major or minor scales); his attraction to these symmetrical modes is partly from the heightened sense of tonal ambiguity they provide, a tonality which can be either supported or left hovering and unsettled. Messiaen had particular colour associations with each of his modes and they are occasionally layered intentionally one over the other as a result. Mode 6, for example, Messiaen saw as ‘a transparent sulphurous yellow with reflections of mauve, and patches of Prussian blue and purplish brown’; mode 4 is ‘reminiscent of petunias – dark violet, white and violet lines and purplish violet’; and his favourite mode 2: ‘dominantly blue-ish violet’. A successful performance of this music depends on an understanding of the composer’s modes and their affects on his mind. Aimard savoured each with clear discernment. He most evidently understood how this enormous work was structured, providing a most lucid delineation and articulation to allow a clear perception through its narrative complexity. Moreover, while I’ve heard the work performed a number of times, I have never heard birdsong more beautifully and characterfully conveyed.
I can do no better than attempt to describe the highlights of this most extraordinary performance. They included the slow, still and awesome suspension of regular, forward-moving time coming out of silence in Regard du Père (The Adoration of the Father); the continuous crescendo associated with expanding creation and the miracle of an incarnate God in L’échange (The Exchange); and the depiction of ‘innocence and purity’ of the Virgin Mary gazing over her son with birds calling and circling above in Regard de la Vierge (The Adoration of the Virgin).
Regard du Fils sur le Fils (The Adoration of the Son by the Son), the first movement to be written, presents three Hindu deçî-tâla rhythms with three of Messiaen’s modes juxtaposed. The movement is laid out over three layers so the top part is heard three times, the middle part twice and the lower part presents a complete statement of the full ‘Theme of God’. Two birds hover (the blackbird and the garden warbler) over this kaleidoscopic ‘marriage of the human and divine’. This was most beautifully understood and realised.
Par Lui tout a été fait (By Him were all things made), the last movement to be written, presents an extensive fugue – not in any strict sense – to depict God’s creation of all things: space, time, planets, stars and what he refers to as ‘countenance’ (or thought). Messiaen stated that the movement with its ‘cosmic eruptions, galaxies, photons, spirals in contrary motion, inverted lighting flashes’, represents the turmoil of creation. At the movement’s cathartic climax, and the climax of the entire work thus far, we heard an ecstatic statement of the ‘Theme of God’ accompanied with a roaring, terrifying bass gesture portraying ‘the face of God behind the flame’.
In Regard de la Croix (The Adoration of the Cross) the ‘Theme of the Star of the Cross’ is accompanied by what Messiaen calls a ‘perpetual chromatic wailing’. Aimard acutely portrayed the lunging, sighing chordal progressions, full of exquisite dissonance and searing pain. The Regard de l’Espirit de joie (The Adoration of the Spirit of Joy) was nothing short of its title. In Regard du silence (The Adoration of Silence) modes are juxtaposed to create a kaleidoscopic backdrop to this meditation on silence described by the composer as ‘multi-coloured and intangible music – music of confetti and delicate jewels, with colliding reflections’.
Finally, Regard de l’Eglise d’amour (The Adoration of the Church of Love) a ‘Gloria’ starts with a ‘brass fanfare…with cymbals, tam-tams, bells and birdsongs’. After ‘sprays of darkness and spirals of agony’, we are launched at the work’s conclusion (in a blaze of F sharp major) into ‘the triumph of love’ where ‘with all passion we embrace the invisible One’. Aimard at this point was audibly sighing and groaning at the output of such intense feelings. At the conclusion of this profound ‘embrace’ there is a shaft of searing light followed by an abrupt terminating thud in the piano’s lowest octave.Thereafter, following a 90-second space of profound silence and stillness, the work ended.
I’ve rarely witnessed before an audience leaping to its feet in unison and shouting for sheer joy such as on this occasion. A deeply humble artist, drained of all energy, Pierre-Laurent Aimard first thanked his page-turner and then, returning to the stage several times, stood before his audience in ardent gratitude.
Rating: 5 stars out of 5
Pierre-Laurent Aimard plays Messiaen
Great Performers Concert Series 2016
Presented by Melbourne Recital Centre
Pierre-Laurent Aimard, piano
Elisabeth Murdoch Hall, Melbourne Recital Centre
20 March 2016
