I’m shortly to have a rare opportunity to review a live performance of Vingt
regards sur l’Enfant-Jésus for Seen and Heard. In preparation for that
performance, which is to be given by Steven Osborne, I wanted to do my homework.
However, I made a deliberate choice not to get Osborne’s own recording down
from my shelves but, instead, to listen to this Polish recording.
Messiaen’s huge cycle of twenty piano pieces is, in my view, one of the
commanding utterances of twentieth-century music. You don’t have to be a
Christian believer to be able to appreciate it since it can be evaluated
on its purely musical merits. However, if you are a believer then Messiaen’s
vision – and I believe that word is appropriate – will resonate all the
more strongly. In the booklet the title of the work is translated as ‘Twenty
gazes on the child Jesus’. That’s a perfectly valid translation but I prefer
the word “contemplations” because that can work in two ways: it works as
the contemplation of Jesus by, say, God the Father but it also works as
the listener contemplating the Christ child. If you adopt that meaning then
Messiaen’s score can function, as I’m sure he intended, in the same way
that many of the devotional paintings of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance
did; as an aid to meditation on spiritual mysteries.
However, whether one approaches this cycle as a devotional work or as a
set of piano pieces – it’s both, I think – it’s still a towering achievement
and a seminal work in the output of one of the most important and influential
composers of the last century. Composed in 1944, it was first recorded in
1956, by Yvonne Loriod and then, I believe, it had to wait until 1969 for
another recording when no less than three more were made. One of those was
by the British pianist, John Ogdon and we learn from the booklet notes that
it was hearing Ogdon perform the cycle in Warsaw in that same year that
inspired Eugeniusz Knapik to learn the work. After performing it several
times from 1977 onwards he made this studio recording in 1979 but political
upheaval in Poland forced a postponement of its scheduled release in 1981
and it is only now that it has been released.
To say that it has been worth the wait would be a massive understatement.
I have two exceptionally fine recordings in my collection - Mme. Loriod’s
second recording from 1973, and Steven Osborne’s much more recent Hyperion
release (CDA 67351/2). I’m not even going to try to determine which of the
three is ‘best’ – in such a work that would be almost impossible and also
a gross impertinence – for all three pianists give marvellous overall performances
and show many insights along the way. What I will say, however, is that
in my opinion this Knapik reading demands to be regarded as being among
the very finest committed to disc.
One thing that struck me as I listened was Knapik’s scrupulous observance
of the score. You may say that such should be expected but Messiaen’s score
is copiously marked with directions as to dynamics and speed changes and,
so far as I could tell, Knapik rarely departs from Messiaen’s text and that’s
not an inconsiderable achievement in a work of this length and complexity.
The one thing that I must confess that I haven’t checked is his adherence
to metronome markings and that’s simply because there are so many of them.
Dominy Clements noted in his appraisal
of this recording that, at 130 minutes, Knapik’s is among the more expansive
recordings. Dominy has had access to rather more recordings of the piece
than I have, I suspect. All I can say is that in terms of overall timing
– which doesn’t always tell the full story - Knapik’s timing of 130 minutes
is pretty similar to Osborne’s 126:39. However, Yvonne Loriod, the work’s
dedicatee, took 120:16 in 1973. Given Loriod’s unique affinity with the
score it may well be that her tempi are closest to what Messiaen expected
so perhaps Knapik does not always precisely observe the composer’s instructions
as regards tempo.
However, I’m not sure how much that matters because, to my mind, what Knapik
achieves consistently throughout this mesmerising performance is to bring
us close to the spirit of Messiaen’s vast score. He’s wonderfully
expressive in the many poetic, indeed tender, passages. Thus, for instance,
he achieves a real sense of inwardness in Première communion de
la Vierge though he also imparts energy and, as the score requests,
enthusiasm in the ‘Magnificat’ passage of that piece. He’s equally beguiling
in Le baiser de l’Enfant-Jésus where the Theme of God is treated
as a berceuse. At the start of this movement Knapik conveys splendidly the
tranquil calm that Messiaen sought and thereafter he sustains beautifully
this profound contemplation of Divine Love. At the moment of the Kiss (from
9:35), with its pre-echoes of Turangalîla, the ecstasy is palpable.
This is a wonderful reading of the piece, sensitive to all the nuances of
Messiaen’s writing.
So, the poetry is there in this reading but so too is the power and strength
when required. The vehement dance that is Regard de l’Esprit de joie
is a great release of energy here. Prodigious virtuosity is required to
put across this exciting music and Knapik is fully up to the challenge.
This movement is, surely, a dry run for the Joie du sang des étoiles
and Final movements in Turangalîla. Notes spray about
all over the place and complex, jazzy rhythms abound. You really need to
hang on to your hat when listening to Knapik’s tumultuous account. In Regard
de l‘Onction terrible his playing has great strength and he brings
out the awesome power in Messiaen’s writing. He’s just as successful in
the fearsomely demanding toccata that is Par lui tout a été
fait. He projects the music with great dynamism and you really get
a sense of the primal power of Creation.
The last two movements are magnificent. In Je dors, mais mon coeur veille
Knapik displays great concentration in his playing and catches wonderfully
thegentle ecstasy in the music. He’s expansive, taking 11:03 whereas Osborne
takes 10:29 and Loriod 9:57, but I never felt the music was being unduly
drawn out. The playing is expertly controlled and this rapt and profound
reading is completely persuasive. And then Regard de l’Église d’amour
is truly the culmination of the cycle. Knapik’s timing of 13:49 is fairly
close to Loriod’s 13:04 and his reading is patient and hugely impressive.
When we reach the point in the score that Messiaen marks ‘Glorification
du thème de Dieu’ (6:41) the listener has a sense that this is the point
to which our journey, begun nearly two hours earlier, has been leading all
along. Shortly thereafter (10:33) comes ‘Triomphe d’amour et de joie’ when
Messiaen’s writing strains the physical limitations of the piano in his
efforts to express ecstasy. Knapik’s playing is magisterial at this point
and he ends the cycle magnificently.
This recording of Vingt regards sur
l’Enfant-Jésus is a profound experience and it’s a musical triumph.
It seems to me that not only is Eugeniusz Knapik fully the master of the
manifold technical challenges of this vast work but also that he’s the master
of the philosophy behind the music. This is a prodigious achievement and
we must be grateful that at last the recording has been disinterred from
the vaults and made available. It’s a notable addition to the discography
of this masterpiece.
The recorded sound is pretty good though quite often I was conscious of
the quiet ‘twang’ of the piano strings. However, given that the recording
is well over thirty years old now it’s fully acceptable. Dux provides a
good booklet note in Polish and English.
John Quinn
See also review
by Dominy Clements
A prodigious achievement and a notable addition to the discography of this
masterpiece.
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