I have always seen Messiaen as the composer for whom it is possible to use things that would be kitsch in someone else's hands. He pushes the boundaries. A piece like the Turangalîla symphony, one of the great works, is over the top. And you can't judge that on good taste - those laws don't apply to Messiaen. Messiaen is the composer - and I've always felt that way - who was able to do that in one way or another. He could write down things that would be unbearable in the hands of another. That you think: you can't write this down, can you? Then you can't make it. But he does.
> Why is that?
That's a very complicated question - I can't answer it that easily. But Messiaen has incredible faith. And that faith is also strongly religious with him, Catholicism. But he can do things because of the naivety of faith. He believes in that and therefore what he does is always true. He can do it because it is without irony. He has created a language - and in Messiaen that is incredible for a composer of the 20th century - it is a language in which the harmony is immediately recognizable. You hear two chords and you know: this is Messiaen. And in that harmony he creates the space in which it can be very complex, but it can also be just E major. How Messiaen can write an E major chord - it will make you fall off your chair. You think it's like hearing it for the first time. And that can. That it's a natural thing in his music, that he can, that's because he had an incredible sense of harmony. And actually no other composer in the 20th century has that. That you have that richness in the harmony that is completely logical and convincing.
> Can you give an example why an E major chord works so special with Messiaen?
The loss of tonality in 20th century music, at least of the beautiful consonant sounds, is a huge loss. You can then try to yearn for it nostalgically, which composers have also done. You can wallow in
>neo-romantic
yes, but that doesn't really work anymore. It's all been done in such a way that you can't get over it. And Messiaen has succeeded with his musical thinking. This has a lot to do with the fact that for him a harmony is not primarily a harmony, but also a colour.
I remember when I performed the Transfiguration and we were dealing with him and Cherry Duyns made a movie about this, I tried to ask him a question. But my French was quite limited. So I had prepared a question that I asked him how is it possible that in your music the conflict between consonance and dissonance, tonality and atonality, whatever it is that dominates all of 20th century music, that crisis that we feel so that it, as it were, does not exist with you? That it is apparently possible for you to write an enormously complex dissonant harmony just as easily and a little later a radiant E major, and that it is all possible. And that it's not a craving for anything at all. It's just original. It belongs to his language. I had prepared this question to ask him. And he looks at me with a look: what is that man talking about? We were in his studio in Paris. There was a red carpet on the floor. He pointed to that red and he said, E major is red, what are you talking about? The question did not occur to him. The question that haunts all of 20th century music: How do you still achieve that, that beautiful language in which E major or any triad that in itself gives such satisfaction - he didn't know that problem, so to speak. He denied that. And that is also possible in his music and that is unique.
In my younger years, when I was a bit stricter about music, I would undoubtedly have thought: this is going very far. But I've always embraced it too. And I also think that you can only really judge Messiaen if you look at the whole spectrum. In the 1950s and 1960s, he was a great inspiration to the Boulez generation. But he has always remained true to himself. And in a piece that I have played a lot since around 1973, perhaps the most, Quatuor pour la fin du Temps, there is a cello solo in it. How many E major chords are there in the piano? That's unbelievable. You just play that E major, and it's insane. So incredibly beautiful.
What is also beautiful and is in the last part of l'Ascencion is that enormously slow pace that makes you think when it starts: don't let this stop at all for a while. You enter a completely different experience of time. He already did that other time experience with Messiaen at the age of 22. It is already in Les Offrandes Oubliées. You can already find it in the very earliest pieces, and certainly also in the last part of l'Ascencion. You get metronome figures like 1/8 = 30. Then you think: that is incredibly slow. But it's essential. You learn that that pace is an essential thing. In the famous Louange from the cello solo from the Quatuor it says 1/16 = 44. How long such a measure lasts is unbelievable. There are performances where you notice that people are uncomfortable in that slow part. Then they think let's play it a bit faster, but then it becomes a kind of Fauré or something. Pace is essential. And in my encounters with Messiaen, I learned a lot how incredibly essential the pace is, especially the slow pace. That has to do with infinity. It is also a religious concept for him. But that sense of time is totally unique, and you already have that in the very first pieces of Messiaen.
> You have often worked with Olivier Messiaen on pieces, including in The Hague with students. Some composers are very difficult. They're on top. How was he?
That first time, that was in The Hague, when we did the Turangalîla symphony, that was great. Then he arrived with his wife Yvonne Loriod who played the piano part. Her sister Jeanne Loriod played the Ondes-Martenot part. So his whole family was there with that whole history of that play. That in itself was fantastic. And the Turangalîla Synphony is a piece that has actually been played by all major orchestras around the world. That has been played so incredibly much. And how many times has he been there, traveling with his wife. So it was not the first time for him, but it was the first time that young people did that. And later you saw that youth orchestras could actually play that, but at that time it was still considered too difficult. So that was the first time. He thought that was fantastic. So he was basically there like it was the premiere. He was involved in everything. We had conversations about the tempo, but also how he noticed every tap and every little thing in the percussion in the orchestra. That is essential in his music. And in a very generous, courteous way, but very present. That first time with Messiaen was unforgettable for me. I am also of a certain generation. Messiaen was already a great composer when I was at the conservatory. So that was the history. The first time you see Messiaen is a bit like meeting Beethoven, I would say. I have worked with many composers who are much more of my generation. Or Ligeti, who was maybe ten years older or something, but that was more my generation. I also had a great admiration for that, but that is something different from working with the legendary Messiaen, who was already in my time at the conservatory. Those are just unforgettable things.