A thunderous and monumental organ piece; at once dark, reverent, ferocious, and meditative.

On Friday, I, along with a small audience, went to St. Paul’s Chapel to listen to a transcendental performance of a work of organ music. The piece, Les Corps Glorieux, was a seven-part organ cycle composed in 1939 by French composer, Olivier Messiaen. Translated as “the glorious bodies,” it was written to represent “seven brief visions of the life of the resurrected.” A strongly religious work, each movement is accompanied with a biblical name and a subtitle. Because the subtitles often indicated the nature of the movement, I’ve reproduced them all below.

The organist, Marco A. Jimenez, is a third-year in the Columbia/Juilliard dual-degree program, where he studies Philosophy, Composition, and Organ. To add to an already incredibly impressive academic background, Jimenez has also won numerous awards and is currently composing music for an educational series by NOAA’s National Ocean Service.

Over the next hour, I sat transfixed as the enormous pipes of the St. Paul organ sang one of the strangest pieces of music I’ve listened to in a long time. It was a fantastically alien piece, slow, grandiose, and intensely diverse in its textures, sounds, and moods. Neither Messiaen nor Jimenez shied away from utilizing the full capacity of the organ, and both were greatly successful in painting a musical picture of the resurrection.

1. Subtilité des Corps Glorieux

An earthly body is being sown, a spiritual body is raised. (I Corinthians 15:44)

And they shall be as the angels of God in heaven. (Matthew 22:30)

Starting slow, the first movement was an unaccompanied melody based on a Gregorian chant. As the name suggests, it’s a subtle piece that doesn’t reveal much, instead sowing the seeds the rest of the piece reaps.

2. Les eaux de la Grâce

The Lamb in the midst of the throne will lead the chosen to the waters of life. (Revelation John 7:17)

This was a strange movement. The melody was a series of chords driven forward by a consistent, repeated pattern (known as an ostinato) played on the pedals. The movement never reaches a satisfying resolution, and instead ends in the midst of itself, a musical cliff-hanger.

3. L’ange aux parfums

The fragrance of incense rose up to God with the prayers of the saints from the hand of the angel. (Revelation 8: 4)

A deeply musically inconsistent movement punctuated by a short theme.

4. Combat de Mort et de la Vie

Death and life fought a strange struggle. Though dead, the prince of life is victorious and reigns. He saith, My father, I am risen, and I am with thee. (from the Sequence and Introitus of the Easter festival)

This was by far the longest movement in the piece, and also easily my favorite. About 16 minutes in length, it depicted a battle between life and death. The movement begins powerfully, with earthshaking low notes and fast, percussive chords. Marked by dissonance and agitation, the “death” section of this movement put me at the edge of my seat.

After about five minutes, though, the intensity of the movement vanished as quickly as it arrived, as though death had been defeated by life. From here on, I enjoyed a lush, vibrant, almost modern-sounding piece. Long, complex, chords lay the foundation upon which a quiet, slow, and beautiful melody drifted languidly along. As the movement continued, it only got warmer and prettier. I wanted this part to go on forever.

5. Force et agilité des Corps Glorieux

A weak body is sown, a powerful body is raised. (I Corinthians 15:43)

Jarringly, after the warmth of the last movement, this one felt more forceful. It was tense, but not in the same agitated way that the fourth movement was. This one felt more like a march, doubtlessly to convey the “powerful body” referenced in the subtitle. Despite the intensity, the last chord, which was held for a long time, was wonderfully light.

6. Joie et clarté des Corp Glorieux

Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their father. (Matthew 13:43)

The aftermath of the battle, the sixth movement was punctuated by trumpet-like fanfare. It was heroic and victorious, and, as its subtitle suggests, it felt righteous and full of sunlight.

7. Le Mystère de la Sainte-Trinité

Almighty Father. With your only Son and Holy Spirit, you are a God. Not in the uniqueness of a person, but in the Trinity of a Being. (from the Preface to the Sunday Trinitatis).

The last movement was a bit puzzling, ending the entire piece, not with a bang, but with a meditation. Long and slow, it faded into nothing.

This performance was part of a series of performances at St. Paul’s Chapel by Sacred Music at Columbia. A full recording of the performance can be found here, and a schedule for all of this semester’s performances can be found here.

Images via Author