Olivier Messiaen (1908-92) still divides opinion. For some listeners, even well-attuned ones, his work remains unreachable. Noisy, too many notes, too discordant. And too eclectic. After all, what happens when you put together, say, intense Parisian Catholicism, birdsong, powerful and colourful organs, modal tonality, strange forms of transposition, word-painting, and various undefined influences from the East? Noise – or genius?
And then there is the minor matter that much of this music is playable only by a tiny number of organists in the world.
