This is the recording that introduced most of us "over 40s" to Messiaen's masterpiece, and its domestic appearance on CD is long overdue. Seiji Ozawa was young, his Toronto orchestra willing, and he had the two Loriod sisters at their best wailing away at the piano and Ondes Martenot. Indeed, the balance between orchestra and soloists in this performance remains exemplary, the playing of the band astonishingly fine, and the recorded sound outstandingly clear, if a little lacking in dynamic range and depth by modern standards. The orgiastic fifth and 10th movements still pack quite a punch, and in a very real sense, while many more modern versions have come and gone this one still holds its own with the best of them. You simply can't go wrong with this classic account of one of the seminal scores of the first half of the 20th century. I can only suggest that you reward RCA for its inspired choice of repertoire by voting with your wallet. --David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

I suppose the music lover within takes precedence over the sound freak, but not by much. Delighted as I was at my editor's decision to revive the old "Classical Hall of Fame" slot, I was hard put to decide what to write about first, until it occurred to me, as a fair and sensible thing, to praise those discs I play for pleasure between reviewing stints—the pauses that refresh, as it were.

Agreed, Turangalila's a flawed work—overlong, overblown, overacute, and, like so much of Messiaen's music, self-indulgent as only someone who fancies himself in touch with the Eternal can make it. But what a grand, fantastic-sounding thing it is! Salonen has taken Turangalila's measure most convincingly, and the Philharmonic plays it as well, it seems to me, as an orchestra can. Bud Graham's engineering wants special mention for its detail and clout, and if you've a playback system capable of delivering bodacious SPLs without imploding or crackling the glaze on your front teeth and bric-a-brac, you're dead wrong to ignore this glorious imperfection.

-- Mike Silverton, FANFARE [9/1991]
reviewing the original release, CBS 42271

Composed in 1944 and first performed at the Salle Gaveau in Paris on 26 March 1945 by Yvonne Loriod, this is the second great pianistic cycle by Olivier Messiaen: a major work indeed, not only in the composer's oeuvre but in the entire repertoire for solo piano. As we know, it's origin is in the faith and spirituality of Olivier Messiaen, who described it as: 'The Contemplation of the Child-God in the cradle, and the gazes fixed upon Him: from the inexpressible Gaze of God the Father to the multiple Gaze of the Church of love, also taking in the unheard Gaze of the Spirit of joy, the tender Gaze of the Virgin, of the Angels, of the Magi, and of those creatures that are immaterial or symbolic (Time, Extreme Height, Silence, the Star, the Cross).' He continues: 'It is a complex of sounds destined for perpetual variations, pre-existing in the abstract as a series, but very concrete and easy to recognize by their colours: a steely grey-blue traversed by bright red and orange, a mauve-tinted violet spotted with leather-brown and encircled in deep purple.' The vision of this work transmitted by Martin Helmchen - a great piano virtuoso who is himself marked by a strong sense of spirituality - is another substantial contribution to the Messiaenic monument.

The Catalogue d’Oiseaux of Olivier Messiaen forms an extraordinary and varied tribute to the landscape and bird-life of France, and to its composer’s powers of invention as he explored and developed innovations in harmony, melody and rhythm at a time when all the elements of music were in flux and up for grabs. The 13 compositions of the Catalogue are very different from one other, in length, form and intent. L’alouette lulu is a kind of antiphonal poem. La chouette hulotte boldly maps out territory for experimentation. Le chocard des alpes and Le buse variable are mostly articulated by shouts, where we are close to noise. The material is often raw and dissonant, but Messiaen often uses what are traditionally blocks of dissonance to create consonance. There are pieces full of melody – Le loriot or La bouscarle – and songs rich in timbre but not saturated with color like La merle de roche. He liked to convey the impression that he composed music in isolation from the world around him, inspired first and foremost by God and by the birds whom he called God’s musicians. The Italian pianist Ciro Longobardi has made a specialty of 20th and 21st-century music. He won a major piano prize at the crucible of European modernism in music, Darmstadt – only the second Italian pianist to do so – and he has given Italian premieres of significant works by the likes of Ives, Kurtág and Xenakis. With both an assured technique and a sympathetic grasp of the idioms of the great music of our own time, he is well placed to make an outstanding contribution to the rich history of the Catalogue d’Oiseaux on record.

-----

REVIEW:

Throughout the cycle Messiaen produces richly intricate music that should be listened to actively – do something else whilst you listen, and you miss out on aspects of the music. This is where Ciro Longobardi does well, his performance makes you listen, through its diverse use of dynamics and the expert use of silences. His playing is concise and bright and is best listened to with the accompanying booklet, in which his notes on the music expertly set the scene. It is a long time since I listened to Yvonne Loriod’s recording of the Catalogue d’Oiseaux, so I cannot make a comparison with the premiere artist. However, in comparison with the recording of Anatol Ugorski for DG (474 3452), this somewhat quicker interpretation stands up well, with Ugorski sounding a little too relaxed now, especially when compared with the wonderful performance of Pierre-Laurent Aimard (PTC5186670). For me personally, Aimard would be my preferred recording, he has the knack of sounding relaxed even when the music is not, but this new performance from Longobardi is not far behind, he is confident in the more challenging parts whilst as already stated his use of dynamics in the slower, quieter passages, as well as his adherence to the silences is excellent. The recorded piano sound is very good, whilst the booklet notes set the scene well, making this a worthy alternative to the Pierre-Laurent Aimard recording.

– MusicWeb International

Consistently rewarding, and a must for Messiaen fans.

I have long been a fan of Hans-Ola Ericsson's playing, and am still under the spell of his Four Beast's Amen which remains a must for all interested in contemporary work for organ. Another must for all of those interested in 20 ^th century organ music is the oeuvre of Olivier Messiaen, created on the great Cavaillé-Coll organ in the Church of La Trinité in Paris, where the composer was organist for most of his life. Anyone even vaguely interested in Messiaen's work may have noticed the original single discs of this set when they came out between 1989 and 1992, with their distinctive 18 ^th century bird illustrations by Olof Rudbeck. It is unfortunate that we lose these in this re-release, but with a significant number of Messiaen CDs appearing with birds on the cover it is understandable that the designers went for a different look. Fortunately, even in this now budget '7 CDs for the price of 3' box, we get Anders Eckenberg's excellent booklet notes pretty much as they appeared on the original releases. The musical content is preserved and enhanced with the addition of the three works which were discovered after Messiaen's death, and disc 7 even includes the birdsong recordings which were on the original volume 6, and Dr. Gustaf Aulén's descriptions of each bird are included at the end of the booklet. No-one will be disappointed by the chunky booklet which makes up much of the weight of this box, and the texts are worth its price on their own.

I have to admit to being something of a Messiaen organ junkie, having started my addiction with Gillian Weir's broadcast recordings on BBC Radio 3 way back in the early 1980s. Though recorded in association with Radio 3, her recordings on the set from Collins Classics 70312 are not those which I used to have scattered around on well worn cassette tapes, and this box is anyway alas no longer available. These recordings can now be sought out on individual discs from the Priory label, and by all accounts are still in the front rank. While we are dealing with blanket comparisons, there is one set which I've had pass through my collection which is no longer resident, that played by Willem Tanke originally on the Lindenberg label, and now available on Brilliant Classics. This is a very good set played on the incredible organ and acoustic of the St. Bavo Basilica in Haarlem, and is every bit worth its current modest asking price. I'm afraid I found it a bit on the dull side however, and not quite able to get the sap rising in quite the same way as some of the other recordings I have as references. If I were to pin my colours to the mast, then my reasons for not warming to this set would have to be its rather down to earth character which, in works of a conception and content which almost always have a strong spiritual element, loses too much of the essence of Messiaen's message.

Neither of the aforementioned sets included the Monodie, Offrande au Saint Sacrement or Prélude, which are later discoveries and are also missing from the almost legendary set played by Jennifer Bate, now available in a box on the Regis label RRC 6001, formerly on Unicorn-Kanchna, and also available separately as individual or double discs. For completists, these pieces do form part of the Deutsche Grammophon 471 480-2 set played by Olivier Latry on the organ of Notre-Dame in Paris, which is my other main reference. Both of these have been reviewed elsewhere on this site. A footnote to this list but by no means least in significance is the collection of Messiaen's own recordings. Made in 1956, these are in often less than glorious mono and on a La Trinité organ which was badly in need of restoration or re-tuning at the very least. The relics which appear on a 4 CD collection CZS 7 67400 2 called par lui-même are however priceless records of the composer's own playing, although the improvisatory quality he brings to some of the music means that organists should probably beware of taking these versions as being the gospel truth when it comes to interpretation.

Hans-Ola Ericsson's recordings on the BIS label have long been acclaimed as being among the best of the more recent recordings, and returning to his set in this context is for me like greeting an old friend. Returning to the shelves at a very attractive price and with full booklet notes, I would like to recommend this set unreservedly, and then spend the time saved by not writing a hugely long review standing on a street corner persuading people to try it and buy it. There is more to be said however, and it feels more like a privilege than a duty to be getting my teeth into a set of pieces which I feel are some of the best works of the last century in any medium. As well as this, I've recently been discovering more about the organ works of Charles Tournemire, so I've also grown up a bit and now have a better understanding of the way in which Messiaen represents a quantum leap in the French organ tradition.

The main body of these recordings were made on the 1987 Grönlund organ at Luleå Cathedral, Sweden. A very fine new instrument, this has plenty of the 'orchestral' punch which Messiaen's work often requires, as well as being able to conjure those soft, timeless meditations which take us into different realms. A comparison with either Latry or Bate on their authentically French instruments does however show a marked difference in character. Messiaen's writing, much as I love and admire it, does embrace the sometimes blowsy and colourfully exhibitionist side of the Catholic faith, and the Swedish instrument does seem to have something of a civilising effect on the music at times. Listen to the Transports de joie from L'ascension from Latry in Paris and revel in unctuous, almost unnaturally spectral splendour. Take the same track with Bate in the massive acoustic of St. Pierre de Beauvais and you feel as if your entire being is being lifted from the ground on some kind of spiritual hovercraft. The impact is there with Ericsson, but there is a sense of restraint, of an elegance and roundness of sound, of power unleashed but not hitting the listener in quite such a physical fashion.

There is one such piece which, almost seeming to have been designed for the psychological slow cut in a high class movie, to me has to have that sense of physical connection - you need to feel your chest wanting to rise above your head. The eternally rising progressions in Apparition de l'Église Éternelle deliberately form a kind of musical drug, each repetition reinforcing the last. Ericsson's sense of mounting drama is wonderful in this piece, and the instrument supports him in giving the impression of an almost endless reserve of crescendo. Jennifer Bate has a more insinuating, nasal and reedy sound from the organ in the opening, and this means that the contrast with the change of stops about 3:00 in is more pronounced. This again is a recording which hits the spot - corny as hell, but one to scream from the rooftops. Latry opens his set for DG with this piece, and what a curtain raiser. He does however come in shortest - 9.45 to Ericsson's 11:11, and I do feel some of the rising tension is lost in the pacing of the piece, spectacular though the organ sound is. In a sense it's too spectacular - all grimly earnest show and rather less content. I prefer the more subtle colourings of the other two recordings.

La Nativité du Seigneur neatly fits onto one CD and has become something of a staple of the organ catalogue. Once again, Ericsson's performance is one of the utmost clarity, and one has the feeling that there is nothing imposing itself between the music and its message. All of the hushed reverence is present, as well as the more turbulent stresses in Le Verbe and Les Anges. Again however, the voice of doom in the bass lines when Jésus accepte la Souffrance is more of a mildly gruff uncle, where Bate's is the voice of your most feared schoolteacher. Latry's pedal here is more that of a throaty pharmacist offering soothing lozenges than anything really threatening. Where he wins is in the final Dieu parmi nous, whose descending bass lines can really rattle your tonsillectomy scars. Bate is also good here, with plenty of atmosphere, but almost engulfed in resonance. Ericsson takes a swifter, more dramatic tempo in the opening chords, but sustains more later on. I feel the organ and the engineer's treatment of the acoustic might possibly have conjured a final nth more of atmospheric potential in the gentler sections, but what you do get is a true sense of what Messiaen actually wrote, rather than anything that the environment may or may not have dictated.

The pacing of another of Messiaen's better known organ cycles Les corps glorieux is also of importance, and there is an argument against Ericsson's swifter rendition of a movement such as Les Eaux de la grâce. His sense of proportion over the entirety of the work is however pretty much without fault, and Latry's more languid traversal of the same movement can equally be seen as being rather self indulgent. For that matter Bate kicks in at 2:34 to Ericsson's 3:06, so who's counting. What one should always remember with the BIS set is that Hans-Ola Ericsson was able to work closely with the composer throughout, you can be sure Messiaen was more than clear as to his intentions and desires in this music. Disc four provides very clean performances of two of Messiaen's strongest pieces from the 1950s, the Messe de la Pentecôte and Livre d'Orgue, the mellow rounded tones of the Grönlund organ creating delicious colours and textures. While the extremes of contrast are not so great as with the Notre Dame organ in, say, the remarkable opening Reprises par interversion of the Livre d'Orgue then this does at least have the advantage of rendering the musical argument that much less disparate and more coherent in a number of ways. I also prefer Ericsson's relaxed way with the gestures in the second movement Pièce en trio, which Latry's rather random sounding rubato makes into more of a rocky and uneven road than it need be. The same coupling of works appears on disc one of Jennifer Bate's set, and I'm still very much enamoured of the Beauvais Cathedral's multitude of almost human vocalisations and the sense of discourse in several of the movements in the Messe de la Pentecôte. It is however only Gillian Weir who, bucking the trend set by Messiaen's own recording, plays the song of the lark in the central section of the final Sortie swiftly enough to make it sound like actual birdsong, rather than a lark stuck in congealing aspic. If I haven't mentioned Weir until now, it is only because of the unavailability of the Collins set which occupies a sizeable chunk of my box set 'shelf'. Price comparisons also make this and the Latry set less competitive than the BIS box, but if you have individual favourites among these works then Gillian Weir on the Priory label has to be a front runner. I love the boxy low pipe which belts out the low notes in the first movement of Bate's Livre d'Orgue, and this is one instance in which the acoustic significantly helps the music, showing how Messiaen explores the space and tonal relationships as they hang in the air between the notes. Bate is also infinitely preferable to Latry in the aforementioned Pièce en trio, which is a miniature masterpiece - but in which a few important inflections are again rather covered by that washy resonance. It is also interesting to hear how each player 'hears' the various birds in the magical Chants d'oiseaux fourth movement - vive la difference, ici. 

By now you may be gaining an impression of the comparative status each of these three sets has acquired in my opinion. While I admit to a sentimental attachment to Jenifer Bate's remarkable cycle and love its sheer sense of drama and atmosphere, there is a problem with the vastness of the acoustic out of which the organ looms, and much of the detail in Messiaen's writing can be as good as lost. Olivier Latry looked like being a panacea to all of these problems in a set which presents a remarkable if rather idealistic recording of the Notre Dame instrument. I always have a niggling feeling with this set however, and that is that the engineers and performer are adding just a little too much of themselves to the music. I have listened to it often, trying hard to love it as much as I'd expected to, but I have never really warmed to Latry's playing or the up-front representation of the Paris organ. This is where Hans-Ola Ericsson and BIS win over both, for while his modern instrument might offer less of the drama and extremes of palette as the French instruments, the recording provides us with all of the amazing content of Messiaen's scores, and Ericsson is an ideal guide through each piece, imposing little in the way of 'interpretation' and allowing us closer to Messiaen's vision as a result.

The magnificent Méditations sur le mystère de la Sainte Trinité is another one of those cycles which fits perfectly on a single CD, and I have nothing but superlatives for Ericsson's playing here. He does take a fair bit longer than Latry over the whole cycle, but is almost identical to the second in comparison with Bate. Where Jennifer Bate beats all comers is in the huge . Here she moves to Messiaen's own instrument, that in the Church of Saint-Trinité in Paris, and with the composer on hand to provide his own uniquely poetic guidance to the player. This was also the case with Ericsson, but the atmosphere of the Saint-Trinité organ, that fact that this was at the time of the work's premiere, and the sheer synergy between composer, instrument and location makes this one of the all time great organ recordings. Hans-Ola Ericsson is very good of course, and I don't want to take anything away from his achievement - it's just that the milder, less overtly contrasting colours of the Grönlund organ don't draw me in and carry me through in quite the same all-embracing and involving way that happens with Bate. I used to have the Saint-Trinité recording on the double cassette release, and wore the things out in the end. People would phone me up and hear the same music in the background, days or weeks apart. 'It's a very long piece' I would reply.

The final disc on Ericsson's set adds the three posthumous works: Monodie, Offrande au Saint Sacrement and Prélude Recorded on another even newer instrument, the tone of these and the earlier recordings is not shockingly different, although the more effulgent Katharinenkirche acoustic does kick in with an abundant contribution in the louder passages. In fact, these pieces slip into the set with remarkable ease. None of the works are a make or break when it comes to choosing your ultimate Messiaen cycle, but each has its worth, and the early Prélude which finishes the set has clear technical and musical links to Messiaen's teacher Marcel Dupré. The addition of the recorded birdsong was always a nice touch in this set, and I'm very glad to see its return here.

So, to conclude: yes, buy this set. We're extremely fortunate to have it released in such an economically viable package, and with all its bounteous extras intact. My personal view is that there is no such thing as a perfect cycle of recordings of the organ works of Olivier Messiaen, and so if you are anything like me, you will end up with far too many boxes parked far too close to more multiple boxes of Mahler symphonies for comfort when it comes to domestic arguments in support of frugal living against the essential need for culture and fine music. I'm far too attached to my set with Jennifer Bate to consider relinquishing it, but would suggest that, with both sets together coming in at about the price of the Olivier Latry box on its own you could do worse than have both. Bate wins in terms of sheer atmosphere and authentic French organ colour - the kind which belches garlic roughness and incense-aromatic arrogance, as well as terrifying and infinite realms of beauty and mystery. Indeed, no-one should be without her Livre du Saint Sacrement. The Unicorn-Kanchana/Regis recordings do however suffer from an overdose of resonance almost entirely throughout, and if you want the clarity of Messiaen's music less encumbered by this problem then the BIS box is a must. I have always admired this set and, comparing it to Olivier Latry's recordings, now know a bit more about why this should be the case. The Deutsche Grammophon cycle does represent something of a technical milestone in this repertoire and Olivier Latry's performances are a remarkable achievement, but the results can be somewhat unremitting and somehow impersonal; even synthetic, if one is prepared to express an extreme view. These are recordings with which you can demonstrate your Hi-Fi and impress your friends, but this is not what Messiaen's organ music is really about.

Hans-Ola Ericsson understands both the complexity as well as the simplicity of Messiaen, without over-blowing his grander gestures or filling his thinner textures with all kinds of unnecessary extra inflection and interpretative licence. Messiaen's organ scores are clear, but often present fields of notes without a bar line in sight. This can be seen as an invitation to mould and shape, pull and stretch, but in the end it's like the original version of Debussy's simple ditty for flute Syrinx - all the information is there in the notes. Duration, intensity, rhythm, phrasing: you don't need much more than common sense, and an absolute control of your instrument and a deep knowledge, sympathy and understanding of the idiom which the composer inhabits. All of these Hans-Ola Ericsson has, and this makes his set one of the most consistently rewarding ever made.


-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International

Not to be missed.

The Naxos roster of fine discs with vocal and other music by Olivier Messiaen is now graced with Harawi, one of the composer’s central works for voice, and the earlier Trois Mélodies, written when the composer was only 22.

Trois Mélodies is Messiaen’s musical response to the death of his mother three years previously, and is full of tender melodic expression and, aside from a passionate climax in the first Pourquoi? and the opening of the last La fiancée perdue, restrained tonalities and dynamics in the piano. The texts of the outer songs were written by Messiaen himself, and the central song is on a poem by his mother. In the booklet notes David McCleery points out the influence of Debussy in Messiaen’s earlier pieces. The pianistic techniques indeed resonate with a longer tradition of French song which also includes composers such as Fauré. Messiaen’s own compositional language is by no means fully formed here, but these beautiful songs are a perfect precursor to one of the most potent song-cycles of the 20 ^th century.

My experiences with Harawi began on the 10th of May 1990, when I had the privilege of seeing it performed live at the IJsbreker in Amsterdam by Yumi Nara and Jay Gottlieb. Their recording appears on the Deutsche Grammophon ‘Complete Edition’, though I am not sure if this is the same version as that with the Accord label, on which I turned out to be less keen than the live performance. Hetna Regitze Bruun and Kristoffer Hyldig are a powerful duo, and Hyldig certainly pulls no punches. Bruun’s voice is recorded if anything with marginally less presence than the piano, but isn’t swamped even through some of the richer textures in the accompaniment, and the balance leaves room for her own dynamic range to reach its full potential without pushing the recording equipment beyond its limits. Listen to the demanding Adieu on track 10 to hear the soprano voice arc over the resonance of the piano in hair-raising style. 
Harawi is a strange mixture of Messiaen’s extravagantly perfumed tonalities, and the Peruvian traditional music which has its visual expression in the striking cover to the published songs. The cycle is part of Messiaen’s ‘Tristan trilogy’, whose members further include the Turangalila-symphonie and Cinq Rechants. The vocal writing occasionally forays into regions unfamiliar to the generally romantic feel of these ‘songs of love and death’, with repetitious, almost instrumental statements such as the Doundou tchil of the fourth song, intended to represent the ankle-bells worn by Peruvian dancers. Messiaen doesn’t stray too far beyond his own more usual idiom however, and gems such as Amour oiseu d’étoile always bring us back to the composer’s familiar sublime magic. The composer’s own texts are not given in the booklet, but almost more usefully, Erik Christensen provides a description and narrative context for each song.

This is a mighty song-cycle, and requires commanding performances from the musicians. The duo in this recording not only rise to the challenge, but excel in communicating its extremes of content, from vast landscape and fauna to folkloristic legend, and more importantly of human emotion. Hetna Regitze Bruun’s range and expressive power is remarkable, and only the coloratura turns which occur in the Répétition planétaire seemed as if they might have been a little less stiff. Harawi is a confrontation, an assault on the senses - involving and rewarding in equal measure, but an exhausting labyrinth nonetheless. Naxos has brought us a world class recording of this seminal vocal repertoire, and at bargain price this is a release not to be missed by Messiaen collectors.

-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International 

Messiaen: The Mystical Colors of Christ - Explore the musical sound-world of French composer Olivier Messiaen in this collection of his organ works based on events from the life of Christ. The program booklet includes beautiful original artwork created especially for the recording, and insightful notes on the featured works. Recorded by the organists of Gloriae Dei Artes Foundation, on the E.M. Skinner organ of the Church of the Transfiguration. "At approximately 100 ranks, it has a wonderful clarity and color, and the performers do it ample justice. All three performers are up to the formidable task of recreating Messiaen's music very much, one feels as he envisioned it. " - The Diapason

Saint François d'Assise is unique among operas. Decidedly anti-dramatic (there is little or no action), it fulfills Messiaen's aim to present the journey of St. Francis' soul toward grace. St Francis advises another monk, Brother Leon; he meets a leper, kisses and cures him; he encounters an angel; he preaches to the birds; he prays for and receives the Stigmata; he dies. The tempo, save for a few moments, remains stubbornly moderate; if you do not give in to this fact and wish for something else, you're lost.

The orchestral palette, however, takes the breath away, with close to 120 players, consisting of strings galore, huge wind and brass sections, and percussion (including woodblocks, drums, triangles, bells, xylophones, vibraphones, and the weird swooping sound of the electronic ondes martenot that always surprises). These sounds evoke birds, forest, ecstasy, the agony of the stigmata. Textures are always rich and fascinating and occasionally puzzling; by contrast, each word of the sung text is crystal clear.

For all its noise and strangeness, this is an opera that can make the listener feel that he's eavesdropping on someone's personal religious crisis, and I bet that's just what the composer wanted. Be wary of approaching it and be warned that given its introspective nature it sometimes can leave the listener very much alone. As a theatrical experience it does not engage: it's too slow and too internal. You may love it, you will admire it, but you won't listen to it a great deal.

I doubt that this Netherlands Opera production, directed by Pierre Audi, will be bettered. The orchestra is on stage, behind a pile of large, iron crosses; there's little to get in the way of the music's pageantry. It's almost a naïve approach and it works. Children sit around as Francis preaches to the birds, quietly. There's little lurching; movements are slow and natural. The moments of stasis seem correctly frozen in time and space. Fussing any further could ruin the peculiar balance; Audi knows when to back off, avoiding too much theatricality even in the grand moments. Jean Kalman's sets and lighting could not be more effective, the jagged crosses at once symbols of torture and blessedness, and TV director Misjel Vermeiren brings us very close to the Saint.

And his cast is superb. In the stunning audio-only recording under Kent Nagano (on DG--type Q618 in Search Reviews), the title role is sung with great austerity and beauty by José van Dam (he also sang it earlier for Seiji Ozawa); on this DVD, Rod Gilfry actually outperforms him. Playing a man who embraces nature, birds, and God with great passion translates subtly into physicality in this case. Gilfry is a good-looking guy with an innate sensuality: this humanness makes the piety tangible. He sings exquisitely and moves with great reserve and dignity. St Francis is on stage for most of the four-plus hours and Gilfry's appeal and concentration never flag.

The leper, as portrayed by Hubert Delamboye in an absurd black and yellow rubbery costume (better, I guess, than scabs and bumps and missing digits), is a tortured soul brought to peace by Francis; Hank Neven sings the uncertain Brother Leon with modesty. Audi presents the Angel simply--no fantastic flying around--and Camilla Tilling sings the role with utter simplicity and an aural peacefulness. Conductor Ingo Metzmacher knows that the story is in the instruments, and his superb orchestra can't be praised highly enough. The chorus also is spectacular.

Sound (5.0 DTS Surround/PCM Stereo) and picture (16:9) are ideal. Bonuses include synopsis and cast gallery, "The Children", "The Message", and "A Chamber Piece...Really", and are variably entertaining and important. Subtitles are in all major European languages and Dutch. This work never will be a repertory staple; it's an event. Messiaen fans will know that this DVD is more a necessity than a luxury; others will find plenty to fascinate them if they give it the requisite time, space, and concentration.

--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com

The NFM Choir from Wroclaw juxtaposes Penderecki and French composers, creating a dialogue between Polish and French music of the 20th century, between the singers from Wroclaw, where the choir is based, and Frenchman Lionel Sow, it's conductor since 2021. The program opens with Krzysztof Penderecki's Le Chant des chérubins, a piece composed in 1986 based on a text from the Orthodox liturgy. This is followed by a composition by French composer Yves Daniel-Lesur, a twelve-part Cantique des Cantiques composed in 1953. In 1962, Penderecki completed a Stabat Mater of a purely religious nature, a declaration of opposition to the communist system and it's visceral atheism, but also to Western avant-garde circles, which were equally uninterested in the sacred. Fast forward to the 2000s with Nigra sum by composer and mezzo-soprano Caroline Marçot, who is very interested in Renaissance music. If there is one thing that Poulenc's Salve Regina, composed in 1941, and Penderecki's Agnus Dei, written forty years later, have in common, it is simplicity and a form of contemplation that can also be found in Olivier Messiaen's O sacrum convivium, composed in 1937.

Widely regarded among the most important chamber works of the 20th century, Olivier Messiaen's Quatuor pour la fin du temps is a world within itself, a profound rumination on the concept of eternity - and, owing to it's legendary and mythical stature as a work of resistance, an integral part of the European classical standard repertoire for several generations. As such, the Quatuor is still the oldest piece in the repertoire of New York's Anzû Quartet, whose members - Olivia de Prato (violin), Ashley Bathgate (cello), Ken Thomson (clarinet), and Karl Larson (piano) - view the work as a catalyst for much of the contemporary music they perform today. Inspired by the lauded 1976 recording by the TASHI quartet, the group follows in some giant footsteps while digging deep into the original score with a renewed sense of rhythmic vitality, seeking to render Messiaen's pivotal work as powerful today as it was when he first composed it as a prisoner of war in 1940-41.