OLIVIER MESSIAEN
b. 1908 in Avignon
d. 1992 in Paris

Vingt Regards sur l’Enfant Jésus (Twenty Contemplations on the Infant Jesus)                             

The astonishing progress of Messiaen’s music in 1944 seems to mirror the momentous events of the external world. In the previous year he had completed the Visions de l’Amen (for two pianos), the first fruit of his partnership with Yvonne Loriod, the young pianist who had joined his class at the Paris Conservatoire in 1941. Subsequent works again centred on her playing: first the Trois petites Liturgies with its important concertante piano part, then the Vingt Regards, composed rapidly between March and September 1944. The initial spur to composition was a request from Maurice Toesca for twelve short piano pieces (“Douze regards”) to accompany a radio presentation of Toesca’s poems on the Nativity. But by the end of the summer this modest commission had grown into Messiaen’s mightiest work to date, an epic tribute to the inspiring influence of Loriod, whose unquenchable pianism liberated Messiaen’s imagination (as he may times testified) from practical limitations.

In a detailed preface Messiaen described some of the factors that govern the work’s architecture. The order of the movements is partly a matter of numerological significance. “The Regard de la Croix bears the number 7 (a perfect number) because the sufferings of Christ on the Cross restored the order that was disturbed by sin, and the Angels are confirmed in grace in no. 14 (two times 7). The Regard du Temps bears the number 9 [representing] the nine months of maternity common to all children, and the Regard de l’Onction terrible has the number 18 (two times 9) – here divinity is poured out over the humanity of Christ in one person who is the Son of God. The two pieces which speak of Creation … are no. 6 (because six is the number of [days of] Creation) and no. 12 (two times 6).”

Musically, the feature of Messiaen’s scheme most apparent is the recurrence of the principal cyclic theme, the “theme of God.” This is heard at the outset and thereafter in every fifth piece, the regards concerned with the Divinity. Together with important appearances in nos. 6 and 11, the spacing of the repetitions suggests a ground plan with pieces grouped in fives. The design of the first section (up to no. 5) is especially clear, since the fifth piece is an exact paraphrase of the opening Regard du Père, and thus seals the predominantly reflective tone of the work to this point. Another aspect of the scheme is that the outer movements of each group of five are the longest: so, in the second quarter, three short pieces of the type Messiaen classifies as “immaterial or symbolic” are framed by outpourings of storming virtuosity. In the second half, although the pieces are still grouped in fives, the symmetries are less clear-cut. Instead, the music is dominated by great slow movements (11, 15 and 19), each of which refers back to the “theme of God,” their final goal being the ecstatic transformation of the theme at the end of no. 20.

Nos. 1–5, The opening Regard du Père (Gaze of the Father) sets the time-scale for the work in its spacious, majestic presentation of the “theme of God.” In Regard de l’étoile (Gaze of the Star) the “theme of the star and the cross” is heard, after an opening flourish which represents the “shock of grace.” In L’Échange (The Exchange), “God makes himself man that he may make us gods;” the music is strictly organised in two-bar units, with material representing the Divinity remaining unchanged, while humankind is represented by fragments that alter shape (like a snake uncoiling), in a process Messiaen called “asymmetrical enlargement.” Nos. 4 and 5 are both slow movements: the Regard de la Vierge (Gaze of the Virgin) an image of musical purity and tenderness, the Regard du Fils sur le Fils (Gaze of the Son upon the Son) a contemplation of the “theme of God,” repeated exactly as in no. 1 but transposed to a more luminous register and overlaid with rhythmic canons and birdsong.

No. 6, Par Lui tout a été fait (By Him was everything made), is a fugue whose subject is constantly transformed. In its second section octaves in the bass repeat a fragment of the subject, asymmetrically enlarged. After a brief caesura, in which very short or long durations are juxtaposed (representing the micro- and macrocosm) the fugue resumes in exact retrograde, a passage of fiendish difficulty for the pianist. After a brief pause the subject undergoes a series of stretti which culminate on the “theme of God”—“the face of God behind the flame and the flood”—answered by the “theme of Love.” In the coda Messiaen depicts all Creation taking up the “theme of God” and singing it in canon.

Nos. 7–9, The Regard de la Croix (Gaze of the Cross) returns to the theme from no. 2, enriched by sighing figures which suggest Christ’s agonised journey with the cross. In Regard des hauteurs (Gaze of the Heights), the heights are symbolised by birds, notably the skylark. The enigmatic, mysterious Regard du Temps (Gaze of Time) concludes this interlude.

No. 10, Regard de l’Esprit de joie (Gaze of the Spirit of joy):

“An oriental dance in the extreme bass register; a first development section based on the theme of Joy; an asymmetrical expansion; a kind of hunting song in three variations; a second development based on the theme of Joy and the theme of God; a return of the oriental dance; a coda on the theme of Joy.”

Nos. 11–14, The Première communion de la Vierge (First communion of the Virgin) returns to the “theme of God,” transposed in key and sonority, and garlanded with idealised birdsong. The joyful central section is a Magnificat, towards the end of which low repeated notes represent the heartbeats of the unborn Christ-child. The next three pieces are the engine room of the second half: La Parole toute puissante (The Omnipotent Word), a monody encircled by grace notes and bass percussions; Noël, in which peals of bells frame a central section of exquisite calm; and the Regard des Anges (Gaze of the Angels), in which the music’s ferocity (with the Angels routed by torrents of birdsong) was inspired by the “angel with the trumpet” in Michelangelo’s Last Judgement.

No. 15, In Le Baiser de l’Enfant-Jésus (Kiss of the Infant Jesus) the “theme of God” resumes as a lullaby. A brief cadenza ushers in a further transformation, followed by a build-up over a dominant pedal (C sharp) inspired by a picture of Ste. Thérèse de Lisieux, arms outstretched to embrace the Christ-child. The ecstatic culmination combined the themes of Joy and Love, dissolving in a coda of Chopin-like finesse.

Nos. 16–18, The Regard des prophètes, des bergers et des Mages (Gaze of the prophets, shepherds and Magi) is a riotous, percussive movement. In the Regard du silence (Gaze of Silence) the image of the title is represented by rainbow colours ending in a coda of alternating chords, which mingle “like precious stones.” The Regard de l’Onction terrible (Gaze of the Terrible Unction) evokes the coronation of Christ, as “the fearful Majesty selects the body of Jesus.”

Nos. 19 and 20, The prelude to the conclusion is music of stillness and contemplation, Je dors, mais mon coeur veille (I sleep, but my heart keeps vigil), in which the “theme of God” dissolves in pure triadic harmonies. In the Regard de l’église d’amour (Gaze of the Church of Love) we hear first a turbulent development, with statements of the “theme of God” interspersed with asymmetrical enlargements of mounting complexity. Finally a plateau is reached, a huge dominant pedal (C sharp again) overlaid by all the work’s harmonic ideas compressed into peals of bells. From this flows the final transformation: “here are bells, glory, and the kiss of love—all our passion as we embrace the invisible.”

Program notes ©2008 by Peter Hill, PhD