Messiaen’s epic meditation, La Nativité du Seigneur,
is a towering achievement in every sense; it’s a mystico-spiritual
journey like no other, suffused with ecstasy and fire. All this
from a man who sat at an organ console for the first time when
he was just 19. Apparition de l'Eglise Eternelle is an
earlier and much shorter work, yet it’s another of the composer’s
sculptures in sound, a vision of God’s church, both mighty and
profound. Surely even those who don’t buy into Messiaen’s deeply
felt and highly personal universe must be overwhelmed by the
sheer audacity and scale of his wide-ranging œuvre for
organ?
If only that were so; Messaien’s music still attracts a surprising
amount of animosity, despite the advocacy of front-rank organists
such as Jennifer Bate, Gillian Weir, Thomas Trotter and Simon
Preston. One of my most treasured musical memories is of Bate’s
performance of Livre du Saint Sacrement, given at the
Royal Festival Hall in the composer’s presence. Devotees all,
we were much moved when, at the end, the composer appeared on
the platform to acknowledge our applause.
Curiously, the most admired exponents of Messiaen’s organ works
are British. Dame Gillian’s almost complete survey for Collins
Classics (now available from Priory) is indispensable for its
loftiness and insight; and despite the composer’s very public
support for Bate’s performances, her Unicorn-Kanchana set (available
from Regis) is technically and artistically more variable. Sadly,
Preston and Trotter haven’t managed complete cycles, but their
versions of individual works are amongst the finest in the catalogue.
Lest anyone think I’m being partisan, there’s an excellent series
from BIS as well, played by Hans-Ola Ericsson.
So it’s clear this newcomer faces stiff competition. The Provençale
instrument, built by Pascal Quoirin between 1977 and 1983, looks
magnificent in the booklet image, but I searched in vain for
a picture and/or biography of organist Jean-Pierre Lecaudey,
who is new to me. Nevertheless, the liner-notes are good, offering
the texts on which the music is based and musical examples as
well.
So, how does it all sound? Apparition de l'Eglise Eternelle
is a majestic piece, at once a cathedral in sound and a
celestial procession that passes by in a blaze of glory. Lecaudey
builds a splendid edifice, scaling those tall columns and spires
with disarming ease. The clean, unfussy recording has plenty
of heft, but it’s not quite as thrilling as that provided
for Weir (Aarhus Cathedral) or Trotter (L’Eglise-Collégiale
Saint-Pierre de Douai). As a reading Lecaudey’s is on the quick
side and it doesn’t match Weir for sheer frisson or,
for might and majesty, Trotter (Decca 436 400-2).
Make no mistake this is very fine playing, but one senses Lecaudey’s
rivals dig a little deeper here. And it’s that heightened awareness
of light and shade, of contemplation and joy, that’s so important
in La Nativité du Seigneur. Few have divined the secrets
of that vaulted space more completely than Simon Preston, whose
classic account – recorded at Westminster Abbey in 1965 – is
one of the most luminous and profoundly moving organ recordings
in the catalogue.
But for all that I was most impressed with Lecaudey’s clear-eyed
– but compelling – response to the quiet rapture of ‘La Vierge
et l’Enfant’ (The Virgin and Child). True, Weir and Preston
find another dimension to this music, a sense of Presence perhaps,
before which all others tremble. Preston is especially inspired
in the cooling registers of ‘Les bergers’ (The shepherds), the
Westminster organ in soaring, transcendent voice throughout.
Goodness, it’s hard to believe this recording is 46 years old;
sonically it doesn’t yield much to the Pavane release, although
the latter has a lovely glow that I came to adore. Even though
Lecaudey’s pedals are well caught, notably in the slow-moving
‘Dessins éternels’ (Eternal designs), the Decca team have the
edge here too. As for the Aarhus organ, that has exceptional
reach and power.
Comparing these recordings underlines just how much the character
and size of the instrument influences one’s perception of this
great score. Lecaudey’s slightly upfront organ sounds brighter
and more forceful in the ecstatic outbursts of ‘Le Verbe’ (The
Word), whereas Weir’s and Preston’s are more restrained and
refined. That’s also the result of their different playing styles,
Lecaudey opting for a sharper, more clearly articulated approach
than either of his rivals. That said, he finds a profound sense
of stillness here that’s deeply affecting, Messiaen’s dark,
jewelled colours pulsing in the gloom. This is playing of the
highest order, and a reminder that Weir, Preston et al
don’t have it all their own way.
The start of ’Les Enfants de Dieu’ (The Children of God) may
sound fractionally less vertiginous in Lecaudey’s hands, yet
the quieter passages are blessed with some of the most ravishing
sounds imaginable. ‘Les anges’ (The angels) is given a bright,
shimmering presence – Lecaudey’s more articulate presentation
really pays off here – the gruff and growl of ‘Jésus accepte
la souffrance’ (Jesus accepts suffering) and that noble, efflorescing
finale superbly shaped and projected. Indeed, this performance
just seems to get better and better, testing old loyalties to
the limit. That’s certainly true of the feather-light scoring
in ‘Les Mages’ (The Magi); even though Weir and Preston are
wonderfully poised Lecaudey is just as buoyant. Yet more astonishing
is the variety and sophistication of the Quoirin organ’s colour
palette, the smallest nuance uncovered in this most natural
recording.
The climactic ‘Dieu parmi nous’ (God amongst us) is often played
on its own as a concert piece, and hearing it again I’m reminded
why; but for all its vaulting grandeur there’s a plethora of
detail that can so easily be lost in the desire to excite. Weir
and Preston certainly go for broke, helped by fabulous instruments
and vast acoustics, but I found Lecaudey’s clear, nicely proportioned
reading utterly compelling. Seasoned listeners might prefer
weight and breadth, but the Frenchman adds insight too.
So often in reviews one digs out favourite recordings smug in
the expectation that the newcomer will fall short. Well, that’s
not the case here; for me, Trotter’s reading of Apparition
de l'Eglise Eternelle is unassailable, but Lecaudey’s version
of La Nativité du Seigneur is up there with the best.
Yes, one could carp about this detail or that, but taken in
toto this is a performance of real stature; I’m thrilled
to have it on my shelves.
Dan Morgan
Comparisons on MusicWeb International
Olivier
MESSIAEN (1908-1992) Apparition
de l’Eglise éternelle [9’53] David Bednall,
organ LAMMAS RECORDS LAMM 175D [73’42]
Olivier
MESSIAEN (1908-1994) Complete Organ Works Olivier
Latry, organ Recorded July 2000, Notre-Dame Cathedral, Paris
DG 471 481-486 [6CDs]
Olivier
MESSIAEN (1908-92) La Nativité du Seigneur
(1935) [62:55] Le Banquet Céleste (1928) [6:55] Apparition
de l’Église Éternelle (1932) [10:00] Jennifer
Bate (organs of Beauvais Cathedral and Sainte Trinité)
REGIS RRC1086 [71:50] also Complete
organ works Jennifer Bate REGIS RRC1086, 1087, 2051, 2052
(available separately or as a 6-disc boxed set)
Olivier
MESSIAEN
(1908-1992) Complete Organ Works Hans-Ola Ericsson (organ)
rec. 1988-1990, Luleå Cathedral, Sweden and November 2008,
the Katharinenkirche, Oppenhein, Germany. BIS-CD-1770-72
Olivier
MESSIAEN (1908-1992) The 100th Anniversary Edition
see end of review for details rec. 1956-2004. mono/stereo. ADD/DDD
EMI CLASSICS 2174662 [14 CDs: ca 15 hrs]
Olivier
MESSIAEN (1908-1992) Complete Organ Works - Vol.
IV which includes La Nativité du Seigneur Timothy Byram-Wigfield
(organ) rec. St George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle, Booklet
includes organ specification. DELPHIAN DCD34078 [79:02 + 79:36]
Jean-Pierre Lecaudey (organ) 
