"I offer to you all the transports of love and joy, the ecstasies, raptures, revelations and heavenly visions of all the holy saints..." St. Thomas Aquinas (from Livre du Saint Sacrament)
When St. Thomas Church organist John Scott began his journey eight weeks ago through the music of Olivier Messiaen, the leaves were still on the trees and the sun still high in the sky long after. By the time Scott completed his survey yesterday with a performance of Messiaen's final organ work, Livre du Saint Sacrament (1984), it was dark and wintry-cold outside.
This was the third time I've heard this two-hour masterpiece in the past year, including Paul Jacobs' reading last October, and the unforgettable performance by Loïc Mallié at La Trinite in May. Scott's performance stood right alongside those, putting the colors and dynamic range of the 9,000 pipe Aeolian-Skinner organ on full display.
I've spoken before about the huge range of sounds in Livre du Saint Sacrament, but what's most unsettling about this piece is Messiaen's frequent use of major triads: huge, consonant chords that on the surface seem grossly simplistic for a composer known for his modernist, sui generis sound. But Messiaen, who was 76 when he wrote Livre, seems at this late stage of his life to be less concerned with musical orthodoxy than with embracing the full spectrum of natural sound.
"Now, I fear nothing," Messiaen said at the time, "not even the common chord!"
As at last week's performance of Méditations Sur Le Mystère de la Saint Trinité, I lost all track of time: hours became minutes, moments seemed to trail towards infinity. Messiaen abandoned traditional western rhythms and intervals, and instead took inspiration from ancient Greek modes and Indian ragas, likening the experience to the time-blurring effects produced by Mescalin. This was a deliberate invention on Messiaen's part, who saw music as an approximation - the closest one we have - of the ultimate journey:
"To understand true reality...we have to pass through Death and Resurrection - which means leaving our temporal world, taking a leap outside Time. In some strange way, music can prepare us for this: as an image, as a reflection, as a symbol..."
After a full standing ovation, I had the chance to meet Dr. Scott near the organ console. He was warm and gracious, signing my program and thanking me for coming to the series, of which I made it to five-out-of-six. When he asked if I knew this music, I told him about my experience in Paris last May.
"Oh, how's Trinité sounding these days?" he asked, genuinely curious. "It's been years since I've been there."
"Sounded pretty good to me," I told him. "But, the seats here are a lot more comfortable." Scott smiled and chuckled.
I'll miss making these midday Saturday trips to midtown, but rest assured Scott will be back soon with plenty of new reasons to visit - and to be astonished. (More pics below.)