Westwood Concerts at Heliconian Hall, Saturday May 30, 2015.
It is safe to say that almost any piece of music that is beautiful to hear on a sound system, even of the most superior caliber, is even more beautiful when heard in live performance. It might even be possible to say that a live performance, even with the occasional error or minor distraction of extraneous sneezes, coughs or candy wrappers, is still an improvement over a fine CD or vinyl record played in a private room. Nevertheless, for many compositions, the difference is minimal enough that hearing the recorded version will not leave the listener seriously deprived.
But after hearing Westwood Concerts perform Olivier Messiaen’s Quartet for the End of Time on Saturday night, I feel confident arguing that it is one piece that simply has to be heard in live performance.
The circumstances of the composition of this work by Messiaen while interred in a Prisoner of War Camp during World War II, and its premiere in an unheated barrack on a bitterly cold January night in 1941 (modestly simulated by the overly air-conditioned hall combined with a rapidly dropping temperature) are well-known and impossible to ignore when listening to it. But even with this inspiring back story explained to the audience by the pianist Gregory Millar, whose verbal style brings the quivering filament of an incandescent light bulb to mind, what rings out more powerfully is Messiaen’s profound religious faith and his sense of reverence for creation and its creator.
From the first sensitive recreation of the sound of the blackbird’s 4 a.m. song to the final nearly inaudible notes of the violin and piano as the sound dies away, the listeners are transformed from an audience to a congregation, immersed in a sense of the numinous. While the Westwood musicians may not wish to be characterized as clergy in service to the divine, this did seem particularly apt during two of the eight movements.
The Abime Des Oiseaux, for solo clarinet, conferred a cantorial stature to Michael Westwood, who managed to combine the tension between the airborne creatures and the gravity of human limitation with his stately pacing and resonant tone.
In addition the full quartet’s rendition of the sixth movement, Danse de la fureur, pour les sept trompettes, performed in unison, was a forceful expression of awe. (This might be because the score itself is slightly terrifying, with constantly shifting metrical demands throughout the movement.)
It was easy to imagine the assembled audience members and musicians, whatever their particular religious background, rising from their seats and joining a procession heading to greet the divine. The Heliconian Hall’s origins as a Carpenter’s Gothic board-and-batten church added to the sensation.
It’s not unusual to leave a concert with a sense of uplift, or pleasant diversion, or renewed energy. A truly memorable concert leaves one with a feeling of gratitude for the opportunity to understand the composer’s intention due to a committed performance. With his music, Messiaen redirects our attention from the here and now, even while we are listening in the moment, to the everlasting. Clarinetist Michael Westwood, cellist Erika Nielsen, violinist Ilana Waniuk and pianist Gregory Millar are to be thanked for that opportunity.
#LUDWIGVAN
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