Posted on Facebook 3/23
“The Stalag was buried in snow. We were 30,000 prisoners (French for the most part, with a few Poles and Belgians). The four musicians played on broken instruments … the keys on my upright piano remained lowered when depressed … it’s on this piano, with my three fellow musicians, dressed in the oddest way … completely tattered, and wooden clogs large enough for the blood to circulate despite the snow underfoot … that I played my quartet … the most diverse classes of society were mingled: farmers, factory workers, intellectuals, professional servicemen, doctors and priests.”
SOSMN’s friend Emily Green thus quotes Olivier Messiaen’s reflections on the first performance of his “Quartet for the End of Time” in her essay, “The Musicality of War.” Emily, a high school senior, co-founder and President of Young Musicians of Minnesota, and fabulous French hornist, graciously shared her essay with us and permitted us to share it with you! This is an enhanced edition of a presentation for her World Literature and Composition class at Centennial High School in Circle Pines. We are excerpting a few sections of her essay here, but you can read it in its entirety and view the corresponding illustrations below.
Hear “Quartet for the End of Time” performed by Osmo Vänskä, clarinet, Erin Keefe, violin, Anthony Ross, cello and Susan Billmeyer, piano on Saturday, April 4 at 10:30 pm in the Target Atrium at Orchestra Hall. This is a separate ticketed event, convenient for those attending the 8:00 concert that evening, but of course available to everyone. More info and tickets ($10) here: http://www.minnesotaorchestra.org/buy/tickets/browse-calendar/eventdetail/441/-/nightcap-quartet-for-the-end-of-time#.VGoDD_nF_l8
In her essay, Emily Green gives us insight to the nature of the WW II French defenses, how the 31-year-old Messiaen found himself in a prison camp, how his experiences intersected with his Catholic faith, how this piece came to be written, how unique and ground-breaking his style is, and the skill it takes to perform it. She says, “To play as slowly as written, performers need a great deal of trust in the music. The quartet musicians have to fundamentally alter their sense of pulse, to pass over the individual notes and follow a broader beat that is so slow as to feel almost unbearable. It’s like trying to walk in super-slow motion. In fact, it is so slow that it can be a challenge just to count to eight. But the rewards for engaging with this radical rhythmic space are profound; the music seems to touch the far edges of human experience.”
And Emily reflects on the meaning of it all. “Messiaen’s ‘Quartet for the End of Time’ offers a juxtaposition between the destructive and creative potentials of humanity. Do we seek to transform whatever forms of violence we experience into something creative and relational, or do we spit them out and perpetuate the cycle?”
Please join us (and Emily!) in the Atrium late night April 4 for this intensely musical and spiritual and thought-provoking experience.
[The photo of the program for the premier performance is from Alex Ross’ “The Rest is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth Century”]
Here is Emily Green’s full essay:
The Musicality of War
“The Stalag was buried in snow. We were 30,000 prisoners (French for the most part, with a few Poles and Belgians). The four musicians played on broken instruments … the keys on my upright piano remained lowered when depressed … it’s on this piano, with my three fellow musicians, dressed in the oddest way … completely tattered, and wooden clogs large enough for the blood to circulate despite the snow underfoot … that I played my quartet … the most diverse classes of society were mingled: farmers, factory workers, intellectuals, professional servicemen, doctors and priests.” The preceding quote was accessed from a book written by R. Rischin and is quoting Olivier Messiaen, a Frenchman taken as a prisoner of war during the invasion of France in 1940. The 1940 German invasion of France, a pivotal moment in World War II, benchmarked an era of emotionally-moving and gratifying classical music. World War II had a large effect on French prisoner of war and composer Olivier Messiaen, who through his experiences redesigned the art of influential and beautiful music in the mid-1900’s.
France’s army was believed to be the strongest in the continent. But the French had not industrialized beyond the defensive ideas that World War I had sparked, and primarily relied on their Maginot Line for all defensive protection from Germany. The Maginot Line was a very well-developed, strong group of fortifications running along the Belgian and Switzerland borders. As described by the BBC News, “The line consisted of many defensive installations constructed in depth, equipped with underground supply and communications facilities, and connected by rail lines, with all its heavy guns pointed east at the German frontier.”
Despite the defensive measure taken by the French, the Germans waged war on France May 10th of 1940, invading the country through Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg. The attack began with German air raids on Belgium and Holland, followed by parachute drops and attacks by ground forces. The French defense forces weren’t strong enough, falling suddenly and unexpectedly under the pressure exerted by Germany.
Olivier Messiaen, a World War II draftee, was a French composer, organist, and teacher whose music is influenced by his devout Catholic faith, exoticism, and nature. When Olivier was 11 years old, he attended the Paris Conservatory where he studied organ and improvisation with Marcel Dupré and composition with Paul Dukas. With the war beginning in 1940, Messiaen was involuntarily drafted as a French nurse, rather than a soldier. Soon after Messiaen began his service he was taken prisoner at Stalag VIII-A, a prison camp in southeast Germany. When Olivier Messiaen was first searched, the guards were in shock to find that he had no weapons, but rather he had music scores in his pockets. His status in the concentration camp allowed him special privileges, which included having access to the camp’s organ as well as a pen and paper to compose music.
In creating his individual style, Messiaen discovered in the music of French composer Claude Debussy the properties of "exotic" modes such as the whole-tone and diminished scales. The inherent symmetrical ideas of these modes enabled Messiaen to create progressions and melodies free of the tonic-dominant polarity of traditional tonal music, while remaining independent of the twelve-tone system. Messiaen was gifted with a strong sense of "synaesthesia," or hearing in colors. He often described his music in terms of "color progressions," also equating key signatures sets of pitches with specific colors. At an early age, Messiaen developed a strong interest in rhythm, particularly fueled by Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring. He soon left regular metric divisions behind, although repetition remained a vital part of his rhythmic vocabulary.
At the camp he befriended three other prisoners of war who were musicians, and together these men performed the Quatuor pour la fin du temps, also known as “Quartet for the End of Time”, one of Messiaen’s war compositions, in 1941. According to Mr. Rischin’s book on Messiaen’s Quartet, one of the musicians mentioned that the audience members did not know how to interpret Olivier’s unique and unusual composition styles, saying “The audience, as far as I remember, was overwhelmed at the time. They wondered what had happened. Everyone. We too. We asked ourselves: ‘What are we doing? What are we playing?” Messiaen’s “Quartet for the End of Time” was one first pieces to experiment with the technique of bird song, which became a trademark of Messiaen’s compositions and of other modern composers today. The piece was greatly affected by the environment, the concentration camp, in which it was composed.
"Quartet for the End of Time” was composed for the four instruments available at the camp – a cello, piano, clarinet and violin. The piece became one of the most popular chamber music compositions to be written in the twentieth century. Messiaen created rhythms that expanded, contracted, stopped in their tracks, and rolled back in symmetrical patterns. For Messiaen, the end of time also meant an escape from history, World War II, and a leap into an imaginary paradise. The “Quartet for the End of Time” is perhaps the first of Messiaen's works in which the contrast between movements becomes truly extreme: there is a new level of violence in the music. Messiaen’s struggle to not only endure the terrible conditions, but also to incorporate the experience into his Catholic faith was profound in his music. According to Steven Osborne’s article, Henri Akoka, the clarinettist for the premiere of the quartet, asked Messiaen to join him in attempting to escape; Messiaen answered: "No, it's God's will I am here." The result of Messiaen’s experiences is a work more emotionally engaged than any work he had written previously. In the end, Messiaen’s apocalyptic piece had less to do with catastrophe but instead records the rebirth of a soul in the cases of extreme emotion. This theme remains common in many pieces composed today, which is why the Quartet is as emotionally overpowering now as it was back in 1941.
The piece is so intricate to hear that the listener often doesn’t realize how odd the piece really is. The unusual combination of piano, clarinet, violin and cello, reflecting the players Messiaen had available to him at the camp, is only a part of it. Of the Quartet’s eight movements, only half of them involve all four players: one is a solo, two are duets, and one is a trio. Even stranger, the clarinet and cello are silent for the last 10 minutes of the piece. In fact, each musician has to sit still for almost 10 minutes once or twice, which can make the experience of the performance feel rather disjointed. This reflects a curious and vivid genesis: the duo movements are reworkings of Messiaen’s previous compositions; the solo clarinet movement was written as a gift for Akoka (the quartet clarinettist) as they travelled together under German guard; the trio was written for friends in captivity before the concept of writing a quartet had even entered Messiaen's mind. Only the remaining four movements were written with the quartet itself in mind.
To play as slowly as written, performers need a great deal of trust in the music. The quartet musicians have to fundamentally alter their sense of pulse, to pass over the individual notes and follow a broader beat that is so slow as to feel almost unbearable. It’s like trying to walk in super-slow motion. In fact, it is so slow that it can be a challenge just to count to eight. But the rewards for engaging with this radical rhythmic space are profound; the music seems to touch the far edges of human experience.
There are few pieces that offer the possibility of such transfiguration, and that it should have emerged from such horrific beginnings seems little short of miraculous. Messiaen’s “Quartet for the End of Time” offers a juxtaposition between the destructive and creative potentials of humanity. Do we seek to transform whatever forms of violence we experience into something creative and relational, or do we spit them out and perpetuate the cycle? Perhaps Messiaen's solution was an attempt to avoid the reality of his situation, an escape into his artistic and religious worlds, but it has left us an enduring and improbable masterpiece.
“The Stalag was buried in snow. We were 30,000 prisoners (French for the most part, with a few Poles and Belgians). The four musicians played on broken instruments … the keys on my upright piano remained lowered when depressed … it’s on this piano, with my three fellow musicians, dressed in the oddest way … completely tattered, and wooden clogs large enough for the blood to circulate despite the snow underfoot … that I played my quartet … the most diverse classes of society were mingled: farmers, factory workers, intellectuals, professional servicemen, doctors and priests.”
SOSMN’s friend Emily Green thus quotes Olivier Messiaen’s reflections on the first performance of his “Quartet for the End of Time” in her essay, “The Musicality of War.” Emily, a high school senior, co-founder and President of Young Musicians of Minnesota, and fabulous French hornist, graciously shared her essay with us and permitted us to share it with you! This is an enhanced edition of a presentation for her World Literature and Composition class at Centennial High School in Circle Pines. We are excerpting a few sections of her essay here, but you can read it in its entirety and view the corresponding illustrations below.
Hear “Quartet for the End of Time” performed by Osmo Vänskä, clarinet, Erin Keefe, violin, Anthony Ross, cello and Susan Billmeyer, piano on Saturday, April 4 at 10:30 pm in the Target Atrium at Orchestra Hall. This is a separate ticketed event, convenient for those attending the 8:00 concert that evening, but of course available to everyone. More info and tickets ($10) here: http://www.minnesotaorchestra.org/buy/tickets/browse-calendar/eventdetail/441/-/nightcap-quartet-for-the-end-of-time#.VGoDD_nF_l8
In her essay, Emily Green gives us insight to the nature of the WW II French defenses, how the 31-year-old Messiaen found himself in a prison camp, how his experiences intersected with his Catholic faith, how this piece came to be written, how unique and ground-breaking his style is, and the skill it takes to perform it. She says, “To play as slowly as written, performers need a great deal of trust in the music. The quartet musicians have to fundamentally alter their sense of pulse, to pass over the individual notes and follow a broader beat that is so slow as to feel almost unbearable. It’s like trying to walk in super-slow motion. In fact, it is so slow that it can be a challenge just to count to eight. But the rewards for engaging with this radical rhythmic space are profound; the music seems to touch the far edges of human experience.”
And Emily reflects on the meaning of it all. “Messiaen’s ‘Quartet for the End of Time’ offers a juxtaposition between the destructive and creative potentials of humanity. Do we seek to transform whatever forms of violence we experience into something creative and relational, or do we spit them out and perpetuate the cycle?”
Please join us (and Emily!) in the Atrium late night April 4 for this intensely musical and spiritual and thought-provoking experience.
[The photo of the program for the premier performance is from Alex Ross’ “The Rest is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth Century”]
Here is Emily Green’s full essay:
The Musicality of War
“The Stalag was buried in snow. We were 30,000 prisoners (French for the most part, with a few Poles and Belgians). The four musicians played on broken instruments … the keys on my upright piano remained lowered when depressed … it’s on this piano, with my three fellow musicians, dressed in the oddest way … completely tattered, and wooden clogs large enough for the blood to circulate despite the snow underfoot … that I played my quartet … the most diverse classes of society were mingled: farmers, factory workers, intellectuals, professional servicemen, doctors and priests.” The preceding quote was accessed from a book written by R. Rischin and is quoting Olivier Messiaen, a Frenchman taken as a prisoner of war during the invasion of France in 1940. The 1940 German invasion of France, a pivotal moment in World War II, benchmarked an era of emotionally-moving and gratifying classical music. World War II had a large effect on French prisoner of war and composer Olivier Messiaen, who through his experiences redesigned the art of influential and beautiful music in the mid-1900’s.
France’s army was believed to be the strongest in the continent. But the French had not industrialized beyond the defensive ideas that World War I had sparked, and primarily relied on their Maginot Line for all defensive protection from Germany. The Maginot Line was a very well-developed, strong group of fortifications running along the Belgian and Switzerland borders. As described by the BBC News, “The line consisted of many defensive installations constructed in depth, equipped with underground supply and communications facilities, and connected by rail lines, with all its heavy guns pointed east at the German frontier.”
Despite the defensive measure taken by the French, the Germans waged war on France May 10th of 1940, invading the country through Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg. The attack began with German air raids on Belgium and Holland, followed by parachute drops and attacks by ground forces. The French defense forces weren’t strong enough, falling suddenly and unexpectedly under the pressure exerted by Germany.
Olivier Messiaen, a World War II draftee, was a French composer, organist, and teacher whose music is influenced by his devout Catholic faith, exoticism, and nature. When Olivier was 11 years old, he attended the Paris Conservatory where he studied organ and improvisation with Marcel Dupré and composition with Paul Dukas. With the war beginning in 1940, Messiaen was involuntarily drafted as a French nurse, rather than a soldier. Soon after Messiaen began his service he was taken prisoner at Stalag VIII-A, a prison camp in southeast Germany. When Olivier Messiaen was first searched, the guards were in shock to find that he had no weapons, but rather he had music scores in his pockets. His status in the concentration camp allowed him special privileges, which included having access to the camp’s organ as well as a pen and paper to compose music.
In creating his individual style, Messiaen discovered in the music of French composer Claude Debussy the properties of "exotic" modes such as the whole-tone and diminished scales. The inherent symmetrical ideas of these modes enabled Messiaen to create progressions and melodies free of the tonic-dominant polarity of traditional tonal music, while remaining independent of the twelve-tone system. Messiaen was gifted with a strong sense of "synaesthesia," or hearing in colors. He often described his music in terms of "color progressions," also equating key signatures sets of pitches with specific colors. At an early age, Messiaen developed a strong interest in rhythm, particularly fueled by Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring. He soon left regular metric divisions behind, although repetition remained a vital part of his rhythmic vocabulary.
At the camp he befriended three other prisoners of war who were musicians, and together these men performed the Quatuor pour la fin du temps, also known as “Quartet for the End of Time”, one of Messiaen’s war compositions, in 1941. According to Mr. Rischin’s book on Messiaen’s Quartet, one of the musicians mentioned that the audience members did not know how to interpret Olivier’s unique and unusual composition styles, saying “The audience, as far as I remember, was overwhelmed at the time. They wondered what had happened. Everyone. We too. We asked ourselves: ‘What are we doing? What are we playing?” Messiaen’s “Quartet for the End of Time” was one first pieces to experiment with the technique of bird song, which became a trademark of Messiaen’s compositions and of other modern composers today. The piece was greatly affected by the environment, the concentration camp, in which it was composed.
"Quartet for the End of Time” was composed for the four instruments available at the camp – a cello, piano, clarinet and violin. The piece became one of the most popular chamber music compositions to be written in the twentieth century. Messiaen created rhythms that expanded, contracted, stopped in their tracks, and rolled back in symmetrical patterns. For Messiaen, the end of time also meant an escape from history, World War II, and a leap into an imaginary paradise. The “Quartet for the End of Time” is perhaps the first of Messiaen's works in which the contrast between movements becomes truly extreme: there is a new level of violence in the music. Messiaen’s struggle to not only endure the terrible conditions, but also to incorporate the experience into his Catholic faith was profound in his music. According to Steven Osborne’s article, Henri Akoka, the clarinettist for the premiere of the quartet, asked Messiaen to join him in attempting to escape; Messiaen answered: "No, it's God's will I am here." The result of Messiaen’s experiences is a work more emotionally engaged than any work he had written previously. In the end, Messiaen’s apocalyptic piece had less to do with catastrophe but instead records the rebirth of a soul in the cases of extreme emotion. This theme remains common in many pieces composed today, which is why the Quartet is as emotionally overpowering now as it was back in 1941.
The piece is so intricate to hear that the listener often doesn’t realize how odd the piece really is. The unusual combination of piano, clarinet, violin and cello, reflecting the players Messiaen had available to him at the camp, is only a part of it. Of the Quartet’s eight movements, only half of them involve all four players: one is a solo, two are duets, and one is a trio. Even stranger, the clarinet and cello are silent for the last 10 minutes of the piece. In fact, each musician has to sit still for almost 10 minutes once or twice, which can make the experience of the performance feel rather disjointed. This reflects a curious and vivid genesis: the duo movements are reworkings of Messiaen’s previous compositions; the solo clarinet movement was written as a gift for Akoka (the quartet clarinettist) as they travelled together under German guard; the trio was written for friends in captivity before the concept of writing a quartet had even entered Messiaen's mind. Only the remaining four movements were written with the quartet itself in mind.
To play as slowly as written, performers need a great deal of trust in the music. The quartet musicians have to fundamentally alter their sense of pulse, to pass over the individual notes and follow a broader beat that is so slow as to feel almost unbearable. It’s like trying to walk in super-slow motion. In fact, it is so slow that it can be a challenge just to count to eight. But the rewards for engaging with this radical rhythmic space are profound; the music seems to touch the far edges of human experience.
There are few pieces that offer the possibility of such transfiguration, and that it should have emerged from such horrific beginnings seems little short of miraculous. Messiaen’s “Quartet for the End of Time” offers a juxtaposition between the destructive and creative potentials of humanity. Do we seek to transform whatever forms of violence we experience into something creative and relational, or do we spit them out and perpetuate the cycle? Perhaps Messiaen's solution was an attempt to avoid the reality of his situation, an escape into his artistic and religious worlds, but it has left us an enduring and improbable masterpiece.