Pierre-Laurent Aimard is a special sort of pianist, one of
those musicians who translate music with their whole body, a
phenomenon you sometimes see with string players who stand to play but
seldom with pianists, even the most active and virtuosic. Aimard played
Olivier Messiaen's Vingt Regardes sur l'Enfant-Jésus (Twenty Contemplations of
the Christ Child) last night at the Angel Place concert hall.
It was an extraordinary concert that got a standing
ovation, not so common for solo pianists.
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Pierre-Laurent Aimard plays colours |
Firstly to the music: I had heard the excellent pre-concert
talk by David Garrett, who spoke about Messiaen's religiosity, his detailed
knowledge of Roman Catholic music (he was Church organist for years) and
his use of this knowledge in the music he wrote. I prepared to hear
something I could relate to church music
but if there were references to church
liturgy and music (and I am sure there were many) I missed them completely.
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David Garrett - pre-concert talk |
Instead I heard very
modernist piano music, mostly discordant, very colourful, sometimes melodic
and despite the title of the piece, only occasionally what I would call
contemplative. I found it unexpected, riveting, mesmerising.
Which brings me to the player, who undoubtedly had much to
do with how his audience received the music. Aimard had been a friend of Messiaen and was a piano student of Messiaen's wife Yvonne Loriod, herself a virtuoso pianist so he knows the world of Messiaen better than most. As I mentioned above, the music seemed to take
over Aimerd physical presence as he played . In the quiet beginnings of this two hour marathon it was only
the mouth you noticed, a clenching and un-clenching that made him look as if he was chewing gum. As the
concert progressed and the twenty contemplations became raucous this involuntary response enveloped more of Aimard's body. It was as if electrical waves
were being transmitted by the piano strings. At times he rose off the stool, sitting a few
inches above it with twisted body looking like a contortionist trick. At
other times he seemed about to swallow the piano whole, such was his
concentration and determination. It was impossible not to be swept away by his playing and the music.
The music was played with brilliance but I still wondered why I found it so very disarming. Was it the religious significance Messiaen gave it that added something I couldn't define?
This evening I have been reading the notes from the concert booklet and discover that the piece was written for Loriod in a period when their love could not be acknowledged. His next major piece was inspired by Tristan and Isolde. Suddenly I feel the pieces clicking into place!