Eternal

Today

Last Saturday, with the greatest of sadness, I said goodbye to my brother David. As the church filled up the organist began to play. "That's Messiaen", I whispered to Paul "La Nativité du Seigneur."

In My Day

Without David's influence there would be a great deal of music that I would never have thought to hear. His enthusiasm and surefootedness made an enticing combination. 

During the late '60s he and I were cultural companions in London; going to concerts and the theatre together. One day he told me that he had tickets to hear "La Nativité du Seigneur" played on the organ of Westminster Cathedral.

I don't think that I had ever set foot in the cathedral and was suitably awed by this yawning Byzantine space. The Messiaen music simply swept me away. While I could never really grasp the musical jungle that is Turangalila, this pared-down, ecstatic music had me transfixed. The music is an evocation of the birth of Christ, but never lapses into sentimentality, even the lilting shepherds' melody fits perfectly into the design.

At the time it even inspired me to art: this drawing in pastels which hung on my sister's wall for many years, entitled "Dessins Eternel".  At school we were asked to write a poem inspired by a piece of music and I chose "Les Anges" - also from the same work. I can't comment about the quality of either poetry or art, but it's enough that the music haunted me to such an extent.

It's impossible to work out just how many pieces of music entered my head, courtesy of David. It's his eternal gift to me, and I wish him a music-filled eternity.