Today is my birthday. I’m not really into birthdays, despite what my wife will tell you. The natural thing for a birthday, I suppose, would be to post my favorite piece of music, or perhaps a piece that is who I am. This, of course, brings up all sorts of questions: who am I? who am I supposed to be? who do you expect or want me to be? whose opinion matters, anyway?

It feels a bit clichéd, but Wagner‘s Prelude and Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde speaks to me more than any other piece of music. The Prelude begins not knowing where it is going, and after a long twisted journey, the only resolution you get is a return to the beginning state of unknowingness. And then, the Liebestod: possibly the longest delayed climax in history (4 hours) – but when it hits you, it’s like bliss you never even knew existed. Crying, of course, is optional.

Personal preference for this piece – the brass can simply not be loud enough. If the trombones haven’t made you deaf, then it’s a failure.

Nobody understands me …

Well, Berlioz, let’s start with your hair. With a haircut like that, nobody is going to take you seriously!

Forget my hair! The hair is nothing. What I want is for people to understand my music!

Fair enough. So, what sort of music do you have for us today?

Ah, it’s my Damnation of Faust! I just adore this book by Goethe, even though it’s by a wretched German. As soon as I read it, I knew I had to write music for it.

Sounds good! So what did you write? a Faust Symphony like Lizst? an opera like Gounod?

Of course not! It has soloists, a choir, an orchestra …

Ah, so you wrote an oratorio! You know Schumann did that too …

Absolutely not an oratorio! Nobody wants another bloody boring cantata. My audiences made that clear when they first heard my masterpiece.

An opera then?

Well, it’s … eh … sort of … a “dramatic legend.”

Ok. So it’s an oratorio.

No, it is much more than that. My roles are to be acted and lived, not merely sung.

Ok, so let’s make it an opera.

We tried that already. My music is too magnificent to be brought down to the level of mere tomfoolery on a stage with idiotic costumes. *sigh* nobody understands me …

*pause* Well then, let’s talk about ways you might improve your hairstyle.

Whenever you see Olivier Messiaen‘s name in a program, be it a sacred or secular event, his deep Catholic faith will be mentioned. What sets him apart from other religious composers is his mystical approach to writing. It’s common for composers (regardless of their beliefs) to set religious texts to music, or perhaps write dramatic music for a particular religious event. Messiaen, on the other hand, eschewed the traditional texts and instead tried to capture the essence of God in the music he wrote. The result is some truly astounding compositions that sound other-worldly, and, ironically, can’t be used in worship services because many people can’t (or are unwilling to) wrap their brains around them. Those who love Messiaen’s music find a powerful, intense river of joy, often lying beneath a calm, serene texture.

And so, today, on the Feast of Corpus Christi, I give you Messiaen’s only choral motet that is functional in a worship setting: O Sacrum Convivium. Though a traditional Eucharistic text, Messiaen’s music goes way beyond a setting of words – the low, misty beginning, the burning passion that builds the piece, the climatic high point, the serene settling. If you’re only going to write one choral piece, this is the way to do it.