Now in his fourth season as the Cincinnati Symphony’s Creative Partner, composer-conductor Matthias Pintscher led the orchestra in Olivier Messiaen’s epic paean to the American West, Des Canyons aux étoiles... (From the canyons to the stars). A commission to observe the US bicentennial, the composer turned not to America’s cities, but to its natural wonders for inspiration, above all, the great national parks of Utah. The work is conceived on a fittingly grand scale, cast in twelve movements grouped into three sections, collectively spanning over 90 minutes.
One might also expect an expansive, Mahler-sized orchestra, but Messiaen scores for a more modest dimension of 44 players, simply owing to the space constraints of Alice Tully Hall where the work premiered in 1974. A particularly robust percussion section ensures this is in no way a detriment to its aural impact – inclusive of a geophone, a pellet-filled drum of the composer’s own device to capture the sound of shifting sands. There’s a very substantial part for piano solo, drawing comparison to the earlier Turangalîla-Symphonie, definitively performed by Pierre-Laurent Aimard. There’s hardly a pianist today more well-versed in Messiaen’s language than Aimard who counts among his teacher Yvonne Loriod — the composer’s first wife, and pianist during the work’s premiere. Three further soloists were culled from the CSO’s own ranks: Elizabeth Freimuth (horn), David Fishlock (glockenspiel), and Michael Culligan (xylorimba).
In a nod to the composer’s fascination with synesthesia, an attempt was made to make the performance a multimedia experience — bird calls were played through the hall’s foyer, QR codes with which to view the program were distributed on postcards with James Audubon prints, a kitschy setup of tents and lawn chairs was constructed in the orchestra pit, and images of the night sky and geological splendors were projected behind the orchestra. Perhaps there was some untapped potential here as it felt this was an effort that neither added nor detracted.
There was a bit of a rocky start to the horn of the opening Le Désert, but matters quickly got on track, and one was saturated with Messiaen’s colorful, iridescent language from the onset, painting in sound the vast expanses. Les Orioles, the first of five avian portraits, was heightened by Aimard’s pianism and unparalleled understanding of the composer, even more apparent in the two movements scored for piano alone. In particular, the far-reaching portrayal of a mockingbird in Part 3 saw the pianist from the percussive to the gently trilling, mastering the rhythmic intricacies meticulously informed by birdsong.
Part 1 concluded with the first explicit acknowledgment of place, Cedar Breaks and the gift of awe. Thunderous, awe-inspiring edifices were sculpted in music. I don’t know of any other orchestral work that has as extended a passage for solo horn as Interstellar Call, and I was simply awestruck by Freimuth’s multi-layered playing and variety of sound, a conversation on the cosmic level. Bryce Canyon and the red-orange rocks is the longest movement and work’s centerpiece, an opulent depiction ending awash with the colors of the canyon.
The final part began with an ode to the star Aldebaran, depicting the shimmering beauty of the night sky, and the glockenspiel added a layer of celestial tinsel. The penultimate movement was something of an avian travelogue, a cacophonous symphony of birdcalls from as far away as Hawaii and Asia. One could sense how deeply the landscape moved Messiaen in the concluding Zion Park and the celestial city, its final pages amounting to a supernova of color and light. Much admiration to Pintscher and the CSO for their committed performance of this ferociously complex score and remarkable stamina.
