≈ 1 hour and 15 minutes · No intermission
Last updated: December 11, 2024
Program
Barbara Hannigan, soprano
Bertrand Chamayou, piano
OLIVIER MESSIAEN Chants de terre et de ciel (Songs of Earth and Heaven) (28 minutes)
I. Bail avec Mi (pour ma femme) / Lease with Mi (for my wife)
II. Antienne du silence (pour le jour des Anges gardiens) / Antiphon of Silence (for the Day of the Guardian Angels)
III. Danse du bébé-Pilule (pour mon petit Pascal) / Dance of Baby Pilule (for my little Pascal)
IV. Arc-en-ciel d’innocence (pour mon petit Pascal) / Rainbow of Innocence (for my little Pascal)
V. Minuit pile et face (pour la mort) / The Two Sides of Midnight (for death)
VI. Résurrection (pour le jour de Pâques) / Resurrection (for Easter Day)
ALEXANDER SCRIABIN Poème-Nocturne (Poem-Nocturne), Op. 61 (8 minutes)
ALEXANDER SCRIABIN Vers la flamme (Toward the flame), Op. 72 (6 minutes)
JOHN ZORN Jumalatteret (22 minutes)
Proem—opening invocation
I. Päivätär (sun goddess)
II. Vedenemo (mother of waters)
III. Akka (queen of the ancient magic)
IV. Louhi (hostess of the underworld)
V. Mielikki (the huntress)
VI. Kuu (moon goddess)
VII. Tellervo (forest spirit)
VIII. Ilmatar (air spirit)
IX. Vellamo (goddess of the sea)
Postlude
There will be no intermission.
Text and Translation for Chants de terre et de ciel
I. Bail avec Mi (pour ma femme)
Ton œil de terre,
mon œil de terre,
nos mains de terre,
Pour tisser l’atmosphère,
la montagne de l’atmosphère.
Étoile de silence
à mon cœur de terre,
à mes lèvres de terre,
Petite boule de soleil
complémentaire à ma terre.
Le bail,
doux compagnon de mon épaule amère.
I. Lease with Mi (for my wife)
Your eye of earth,
my eye of earth,
our hands of earth,
to weave the atmosphere,
the mountain of the atmosphere.
Star of silence
to my heart of earth,
to my lips of earth,
little ball of sun
complementary to my earth.
The lease,
sweet companion of my bitter shoulder.
II. Antienne du silence (pour le jour des Anges gardiens)
Ange silencieux,
écris du silence dans mes mains,
alleluia.
Que j'aspire le silence du ciel,
alleluia.
II. Antiphon of Silence (for the Day of the Guardian Angels)
Silent angel,
write some silence in my hands,
Alleluia.
May I drink in the silence of heaven!
Alleluia.
III. Danse du bébé-Pilule (pour mon petit Pascal)
Pilule, viens, dansons.
Malonlanlaine, ma.
Ficelles du soleil.
Malonlanlaine, ma.
C’est l’alphabet du rire aux doigts de ta maman.
Son oui perpétuel était un lac tranquille.
Malonlanlaine, ma.
Douceur des escaliers, surprise au coin des portes.
Tous les oiseaux légers s’envolaient de tes mains.
Oiseaux légers, cailloux, refrains, crême légère.
En poissons bleus, en lunes bleues,
les auréoles de la terre et de l’eau,
un seul poumon dans un seul rosseau.
Io, io, malonlaine, ma.
L’œil désarmé, un ange sur la tête,
ton petit nez levé vers le bleu
qui s’avale,
ourlant de cris dorés
les horizons de verre,
tu tendais ton cœur si pur.
Chanter, chanter, chanter, ah!
chanter, glaneuses d'étoies, tresses de la vie,
pouviez-vous chanter plus délicieusement?
Le vent sur tes oreilles, malonlaine, ma,
joue à saute mouton, malonlaine, ma.
Et la présence verte et l’œil de ta maman.
En effeuillant une heure autour de mon sourire.
Malonlaine, ma.
Autour de mon sourire.
Malonlaine, ma, ma, ma, ma, io!
ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! io, io!
III. Dance of Baby Pilule (for my little Pascal)
Pilule, come, let's dance,
Malonlanlaine, ma.
Strings of sunshine,
Malonlanlaine, ma.
It's the alphabet of laughter on your mummy’s fingertips.
Her perpetual “yes” was a tranquil lake.
Malonlanlaine, ma.
Gentleness of the stairways, surprise at the doorways.
All the delicate birds fly away from your hands.
Light birds, pebbles, refrains, light cream.
In blue fish, in blue moons,
the halos of the earth and of the water,
a single lung in a single reed.
Io, io, Malonlanlaine, ma.
The disarmed eye, an angel upon your head,
your little nose upturned towards the blue
that goes downstream,
hemming with golden cries
the glass horizons,|
you offer up your heart so pure.
Sing, sing, sing, ah!
Sing, gleaners of stars, tresses of life,
could you sing more deliciously?
The wind on your ears, malonlanlaine, ma,
plays leapfrog, malonlanlaine, ma.
And the green presence and the eye of your mother.
Plucking the petals off an hour around my smile.
Malonlanlaine, ma.
Around my smile.
Malonlanlaine, ma, ma, ma, ma, io!
ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! io, io!
IV. Arc-en-ciel d’innocence (pour mon petit Pascal)
Pilule, tu t’étires comme une majuscule
de vieux missel.
Tu es fatigués; regardes ta main.
Jouet incassable,
les ressorts fonctionnent toujours;
mais on ne peut pas le lancer par dessus bord
comme la jolie poupée en coton.
Rêve aux plis de l’heure;
tresse, tresse des vocalises autour du silence :
le soleil t’écrira sur l’épaule du matin
pour lancer des oiseaux dans ta bouche sans dents.
Sourire, sourire, ce que tu chantes,
chanter, chanter, t’a appris à sourire.
Ce que tu ne vois pas,
sauras-tu en rèver?
Viens, que je te catapultes dans le jour
comme la libellule avivateur!
Te voilà plus haut que moi;
que plaisir de dominer tous ces géants!
Attache à tes poignets fins
les arcs-en-ciel d’innocence
qui sont tombés de tes yeux,
fais les frémir dans les encognures du temps.
Très loin, très près;
recommençons cent fois le jeu!
Où est-il? si haut qu’on le voit plus?
Saute, mon bilboquet Pilule!
Tu t’agites comme un battant de cloche pascale.
Bonjour, petit garçon.
IV. Rainbow of Innocence (for my little Pascal)
Pilule, you’re stretching like an illuminated letter
from an old missal.
You are tired; look at your hand.
Unbreakable plaything,
the bedsprings still work;
but we can’t throw him overboard
like the nice doll made of cotton.
Dream in the folds of the hour;
weave vocalises around the silence:
the sun will write you on morning's shoulder
so as to throw birds in your toothless mouth.
Smile, smile, what you sing,
singing, singing, has taught you to smile.
That which you have not seen,
will you be able to dream?
Come, so I may catapult you into the day
like a dragonfly aviator!
Here you are, higher than me;
what a pleasure to dominate all those giants!
Grab in your delicate fists
the rainbows of innocence
that fell from your eyes,
make them shudder in the corners of time.
Very far, very close,
Let’s start the game over again a hundred times!
Where is he? So high I can’t see him any more?
Jump, my ping-pong-Pilule!
You act like a clapper of an Easter bell.
Good morning, little boy.
V. Minuit pile et face (pour la mort)
Ville, œil puant, minuits obliques,
clous rouillés enfoncés aux angles de l’oubli.
Agneau, Seigneur!
Ils dansent, mes péchés dansent!
Carnaval décevant des pavés de la mort.
Grand corps tout pourri des rues,
sous la dure lanterne.
Carrefour de la peur !
Couverture de démence et d’orgeuil !
Rire, aiguise-toi, rire, avale-toi :
ces flambeaux sont des montagnes de nuit.
Nœuds bien serrés de l'angoisse,
Bête inouïe qui mange.
Qui bave dans ma poitrine.
Tête, tête, quelle sueur!
Et je resterais seul à la mort qui m’enroule?
Père des lumières,
Christ, Vigne d’amour,
Esprit Consolateur,
Consolateur aux sept dons!
Cloche, mes os vibrent, chiffre soudain,
décombres de l’erreur et des cercles à gauche,
neuf, dix, onze, douze.
Oh! m’endormir petit!
sous l’air trop large, dans un lit bleu,
la main sous l’oreille,
avec une toute petite chemise.
V. The Two Sides of Midnight (for death)
City, putrid eye, lopsided midnights,
rusty nails stuck in the corners of forgetfulness.
O Lamb, O Lord!
They dance, my sins dance!
Disappointing carnival of the paving stones of death.
Large corpses of the streets, all rotten,
under the harsh streetlamp.
Crossroads of fear!
Blanket for madness and pride!
Laugh, whet your appetite, laugh, swallow yourself:
these torches are the mountains of night.
Well-tied knots of anguish.
Unheard-of beast who eats.
Who drools on my chest.
Head, head, what sweat!
And I should stay alone before the death that envelops me?
Father of light,
Christ, vine of love,
Consoling Spirit
Consoler of the seven gifts!
Bell, my bones jar, count suddenly
the debris of error and of counterclockwise circles,
nine, ten, eleven, twelve.
Oh, to go to sleep like a child,
under the too-big air, in a blue bed,
my hand under my ear,
with a tiny nightshirt.
VI. Résurrection (pour le jour de Pâques)
Alleluia, alleluia.
Il est le premier, le Seigneur Jésus.
Des morts il est le premier-né.
Sept étoiles d’amour au transpercé,
revêtez votre habit de clarté.
“Je suis ressuscité, je suis ressuscité.
Je chante : pour toi, mon Père, pour toi, mon Dieu, alleluia.
De mort à vie je passe.”
Un ange. Sur la pierre il s’est posé.
Parfum, porte, perle, azymes de la Vérité.
Alleluia, alleluia.
Nous l’avons touché, nous l’avons vu.
De nos mains nous l’avons touché.
Un seul fleuve de vie dans son côté,
revêtez votre habit de clarté.
“Je suis ressuscité, je suis ressuscité.
Je monte : vers toi, mon Père, vers toi, mon Dieu, alleluia.
De terre à ciel je passe.”
Du pain. Il le rompt et leurs yeux sont dessillés.
Parfum, porte, perle, lavez-vous dans la Vérité.
Original French text by Olivier Messiaen
VI. Resurrection (for Easter Day)
Alleluia, alleluia.
He is the first, the Lord Jesus.
Of the dead, he is the first-born.
Seven stars of love to the Pierced One;
clothe yourself with clarity.
“I am resurrected, I am resurrected.
I sing, for you, my Father, for you, my God, alleluia.
From death to life I pass.”
An angel. On the stone he is leaning.
Perfume, door, pearl, unleavened bread of Truth.
Alleluia, alleluia.
We have touched him, we have seen him.
Of our own hands we have touched him.
A single river of life flows down his side,
clothe yourself in clarity.
“I am resurrected, I am resurrected.
I ascend: toward You, my Father, toward You, my God, alleluia.
From earth to heaven I pass."
Bread. He breaks it and their eyes are opened.
Perfume, door, pearl, wash yourself in the Truth.
English translation © Laura Claycomb; reproduced with kind permission by The LiederNet Archive
Text and Translation for Jumalatteret
Original Finnish text
Proem—opening invocation
Mieleni minun tekevi, aivoni ajattelevi lähteäni laulamahan, saa’ani sanelemahan, sukuvirttä suoltamahan, lajivirttä laulamahan. Sanat suussani sulavat, puhe’et putoelevat, kielelleni kerkiävät, hampahilleni hajoovat. ylistykseksi jumalattaret!
English translation
Proem—opening invocation
mastered by impulsive desire, by a mighty inward urging, i am now ready for singing, ready to begin the chanting in praise of the goddesses!
III. Akka
Viel’ on muitaki sanoja, ongelmoita oppimia:
III. Akka (queen of the ancient magic)
there are other words of magic, incantations i have learned
IV. Louhi
siitti siivet sulkinensa kuuhuen käsin tavoitti
IV. Louhi (hostess of the underworld)
made a pair of feathered wings, with her bare hands by her magic
VII. Tellervo
Keksi piirtämän kivessä, valeviivan kalliossa.
VII. Tellervo (forest spirit)
secret sign drawn on the rock
VIII. Ilmatar
Parempi olisi ollut ilman impenä elää,
VIII. Ilmatar (air spirit)
better had it been for me to have stayed the airy virgin
Postlude
Ellös täältä ilman pääskö,nousko, kuu, kumottamahan, pääskö, päivä, paistamahan, kun en käyne päästämähän, itse tulle noutamahan yheksän orihin kanssa, yhen tamman kantamalla!
Postlude
Moon of gold and Sun of silver, Hide your faces in the caverns Of Pohyola’s dismal mountain; Shine no more to gladden Northland, Till I come to give ye freedom, Drawn by coursers nine in number, Sable coursers of one mother!
Repertoire
Chants de Terre et de Ciel (Songs of Earth and Heaven)
I. Bail avec Mi (pour ma femme) / Lease with Mi (for my wife)
II. Antienne du silence (pour le jour des Anges gardiens) / Antiphon of Silence (for the Day of Guardian Angels)
III. Danse du bébé-Pilule (pour mon petit Pascal) / Dance of Baby Pilule (for my little Pascal)
IV. Arc-en-ciel d'innocence (pour mon petit Pascal) / Rainbow of Innocence (for my little Pascal)
V. Minuit pile et face (pour la mort) / The Two Sides of Midnight (for death)
VI. Résurrection (pour le jour de Pâques) / Resurrection (for Easter Day)
Following his marriage to violinist Claire Delbos in 1932, French composer Olivier Messiaen (1908–1992) was inspired to write two song cycles for soprano and piano: Poèmes pour Mi (“Mi” was his pet name for Claire) in 1936, and Chants de terre et de ciel in 1938, a year after the birth of their son, Pascal. For both, he wrote his own texts, which, as music critic Paul Griffiths explains, “gloss marital and parental relationships with a mixture of biblical imagery and language derived from the surrealist poets he admired at the time, especially Pierre Reverdy.”
Soprano Jane Manning calls the latter of the two “a wonderfully seductive blend of the physical and the spiritual,” with the voice and piano parts being highly individual and virtuosic in their respective ways. Chants de terre et de ciel, like Poèmes pour Mi, was originally composed for the dramatic soprano Marcelle Bunlet, who premiered it with the composer at the piano on March 6, 1939, at the Concerts du Triton in Paris.
Earthly and heavenly references are eloquently juxtaposed within the songs as well as in the layout of the cycle, which Griffiths aptly describes as a “triptych of diptychs”. The first two songs appear to set in comparison life on earth with a spouse (“Bail avec Mi”) and a relationship of peaceful security with a guardian angel (“Antienne du silence”). Although it might be translated as “pact” or “agreement”, the word “bail” literally means “lease”, thus referring to the idea that husband and wife are “loaned” to each other on trust from God during their temporary time on earth, compared to the eternal (and ideal) union of Christ and his Church. The text lists many bodily details that surround a celestial image of Mi as the “star of silence”, at which point the music slows down for a moment of reverential awe. In the ethereal second song, this image become a wholly spiritual one, in the form of a silent angel.
The central pair of songs are about little Pascal, who is referred to as “Pilule”—Messiaen’s endearment for his son. “Danse de bébé-Pilule”, the longest song of the cycle, is a charming portrait of a child at play, as his loving parents encourage him to dance, play games, and sing for their delight. Here, the music bubbles along energetically with lilting and animated rhythms as well as quick changes in tempo and dynamics. A chanting refrain of nonsense syllables adds to the buoyant mood throughout. Rambunctious joy is followed by a parent’s tender musings while watching his sleeping son, in “Arc-en-ciel d’innocence”. The voice shifts between recitative-like patter, song-like fragments, and longer phrases, twice culminating in soaring lines complemented by the piano’s chordal passages—the first, at “le soleil t’écrira”, and later, on the touching and somewhat protective plea to “Attache à tes poignets fins les arcs-en-ciel d’innocence”. At the end, the father, with deep affection, greets his waking son.
The final diptych contrasts the chaotic, putrid, and anxiety-ridden nightmare of “hell” in “Minuit pile et face”, with the serene comfort of paradise, attained by humans only through faith in the saving grace of Christ and His resurrection. German musicologist Siglind Bruhn notes that the title of the former roughly translates as “the two sides of midnight”, which perhaps better grasps Messiaen’s meaning than the literal translation, “Midnight heads and tails”, in which he has evidently substituted “ou” (or) in the English “heads or tails” for “et” (and). The poem’s text evokes the terrifying consequences of human sinfulness; listen out for the diabolically rhythmic “dance of the sins” that begins in the piano. Later, tremolandos underscore “knots of anguish”, eventually arriving at a grand climax with desperate pleas to God for consolation. Near the end, the pandemonium gives way to a wistful coda, in which the voice, overtop floating chords in the piano’s right hand, wishes for the simple, unperturbed sleep of an innocent child.
The concluding song brings comfort and hope as it tells of the renewal of the universe through the resurrection of Christ. The verses, notably, have a balanced construction featuring the same (or similar) opening alleluias, a central quotation on the resurrection, and a closing vision of heaven. Connecting these common elements are paraphrases from the biblical Gospel accounts of Christ’s resurrection: the angel sitting on the stone rolled from Jesus’s tomb; the story of doubting Thomas, who touched the resurrected Christ; and Jesus breaking bread with his disciples and allowing them to recognize him. The music throughout is ecstatic, with highly virtuosic lines in the voice, to which the piano responds with brilliant gestures.
Program note by Hannah Chan-Hartley, PhD
Poème-nocturne (Poem-Nocturne), Op. 61
Russian composer Alexander Scriabin (1872–1915) was an extraordinary musical figure whose personal mysticism, synaesthesia (sensing sound and colour simultaneously), and distinctive musical language has inspired much musicological fascination and analysis. An exceptionally gifted pianist, Scriabin wrote many solo pieces for the instrument, which, when he was an adult, were the only works he performed in public. His sonatas and poèmes are among his best-known works. In the latter, he took the concept of the “tone poem” (as originally applied to orchestral music by Franz Liszt) and transformed it—from being a musical depiction of an extramusical idea to microcosms of sound that pianist Marilyn Nonken says seek to generate “novel perceptions and states of consciousness” in the listener.
An essential part of Scriabin’s compositional process was the manipulation of sounds; he was deeply interested in their acoustic properties—how they are produced and their effect on the mind and body. He himself sensed not only the notes that are heard, but also the “unheard” sonorities that resonate as sympathetic vibrations with them to create their specific tone colours (that is, the partials of a harmonic or overtone series). After 1909, Scriabin began to experiment, in his piano music, with synthesizing from the keyboard harmonic complexes that would reflect unheard sonorities, such as those he heard and felt in the sounds of bells and gongs. He devised the “synthetic chord” consisting of six (and later, seven) tones, based on the seventh to 14th partials of the natural harmonic series, which he stacked in fourths. This entity, referred to as the “mystic” or the “Prometheus” chord (for its use in Scriabin’s orchestral tone poem Promethée), became a main source of tone colour and harmony for the composer’s later works, including his Poème-Nocturne, Op. 61, from 1911.
As suggested by its title, the Poème-Nocturne is night music that vacillates between a dream-like languorous haze and sensuous episodes that suggest the arousal of erotic or mystical desire. The piano score is full of colourful performance indications, with the opening section moving from “capricious grace” to “like a confused murmur” (with a wandering passage in the right hand) to an ascending motive of flourishes and detached notes, to be played “crystalline, pearly”. In the middle section, moments of surging passion alternate with sudden bouts of languor, eventually building to two climactic points, the second reverberating on a sonority of stacked fourths, first sounding from the deep, and extended through arpeggiations and ringing repeated chords over top. A “confused murmur” leads us back to a varied reprise of the first section. There’s another brief intensification—the right hand high up with flickering figures underneath—but it suddenly becomes languorous again, and the Poème-Nocturne closes on evanescing reiterations of the “crystalline, pearly” motive.
Program note by Hannah Chan-Hartley, PhD
Vers la flamme (Toward the flame), Op. 72
Vers la flamme (1914) began as sketches to Scriabin’s 11th piano sonata, but he soon turned it into a standalone work. Aptly described by Scriabin specialists Lincoln Ballard and Matthew Bengtson as “a tour de force of pianistic colour and rhythmic propulsion”, the piece makes significant demands on the performer, including frequent hand crossings, playing tricky polyrhythms (such as nine against five), and “a careful balance of sound and rhythmic momentum”. It also requires nuanced pedaling technique to create the effect of a “multidimensional layering of sound, with individual tones resonating at different intensities,” pianist Marilyn Nonken observes. “There is an obsessive focus on particular registers, whose resonance is caught and sustained in the pedal,” she further notes. Scriabin therefore “establishes independent planes of timbral colour continually refreshed, at times one layered upon the next.”
The arc of Vers la flamme moves “from the fog to the blinding light”, as Scriabin described it to his close friend the critic and musicologist Leonid Sabaneev, but in a spiritual sense. It begins quietly, on stark ruminating chords in the lower register, in inward-turning patterns as if trapped. In the right hand, a melodic phrase with a falling semi-tone motive emerges. This falling motive dominates as the music becomes more animated underneath (Scriabin has indicated here “with budding emotion”). Soon, “with a veiled joy”, the falling motive begins to ascend gradually, towards the upper register, as if drawn to the light. It continues, marks Scriabin, “with increasingly tumultuous joy”, arriving at last on tremolandos. In an ensuing episode marked “Éclatant, lumineux” (bright, luminous), the tremolandos (appearing now with the falling motive) evoke, not simply the sense of being close to a flame or light, but an ecstatic state of divine consummation, vibrating with euphoria. Later, the right-hand strikes chords built on intervals of a fourth, which give them a resounding bell-like timbre. Eventually, they ring out at the piano’s highest and most sparkling register, to draw the piece to a radiant close.
Program note by Hannah Chan-Hartley, PhD
Jumalattaret
Proem—opening invocation
I. Päivätär (sun goddess)
II. Vedenemo (mother of waters)
III. Akka (queen of the ancient magic)
IV. Louhi (hostess of the underworld)
V. Mielikki (the huntress)
VI. Kuu (moon goddess)
VII. Tellervo (forest spirit)
VIII. Ilmatar (air spirit)
IX. Vellamo (goddess of the sea)
Postlude
Program note by John Zorn and Barbara Hannigan
Using pieces of texts from the epic Finnish tale the Kalevala, Jumalattaret (2012) is a song cycle in praise of nine Finnish Goddesses out of Sami Shamanism: Päivätär, goddess of summer—Vedenemo, the mother of waters—Akka, goddess of the underworld—Louhi, a powerful witch and shapeshifter—Mielikki, the goddess of the hunt—Kuu, the moon goddess—Tellervo, goddess of forests—Ilmatar the virgin spirit of air—Vellamo, the goddess of water. The music uses a variety of musical techniques and genres, and moves from lyrical folk-like simplicity to more complex atonal and textural pyrotechnics.
John Zorn:
Barbara Hannigan was in New York City performing George Benjamin’s Written on Skin at Lincoln Center in the summer of 2015. We met for the very first time, introduced by mutual friends, for a memorable lunch at the Thai restaurant Som Tum Der on Avenue A. We stayed for hours talking candidly about music, life, collaboration, improvisation, the classical world, conductors, and so much more. It was deeply inspiring—and we began to imagine a path forward. Remembering Jumalattaret, I sent her the score and proposed it as our first adventure together.
Barbara Hannigan:
Meeting John back in 2015 was a turning point in my life as a creative person. The connection between us as musicians was immediate and magnetic. I began working on Jumalattaret in 2016/17, but realized quite quickly, that I’d met my “Waterloo” in its virtuosic demands. I was not sure I would manage it, even though I had tackled many “impossible” pieces before. Finally, I mustered the courage to write to John with my concerns. I was hoping he might make a few corners of it a little more “possible” for me to manage.
We exchanged several emails, and John was incredibly deep in his response to the vulnerabilities I was sharing with him. I’d never experienced anything like this kind of support with a composer. He was not offended. He was really with me in the struggle.
John wrote the following to me:
one cannot transcend anything by staying on safe ground
and it is in these intense moments that we can find deeper truths, bring mind and heart together – and begin to understand the soul and its workings
in that courageous moment of letting go and going for it, the music will become alive in a special and heroic way – a way that is beyond just the notes on paper
John:
The long journey toward Barbara’s mastery of the piece is beautifully told in Mathieu Amalric’s insightful documentary Zorn III, which is focused on our back-and-forth communications, and the long process of Barbara learning, struggling, rehearsing, and performing Jumalattaret.
Barbara:
Because of John’s belief in me, I felt overcome with a new energy and summoned all my strength to throw myself into the music until I was completely immersed in it and it became a part of me. I have performed it many times now on festivals celebrating John Zorn’s music, and wanted to put it into a new performance context, programming it together with Messiaen’s song cycle Chant de terre et de ciel. Both works are deeply spiritual, mysterious, tender, and ecstatic. While the Messiaen cycle has a more male dominated focus (the God of Catholic faith), the Zorn is inspired by female power, as are many of John's compositions.
John has gone on to write another five works for my voice, with various combinations of instruments and not a season goes by that I am not singing his music, somewhere. He has become a very dear friend and inspiring mentor.
Artists
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Embodying music with an unparalleled dramatic sensibility, Nova Scotian–born soprano and conductor Barbara Hannigan is an artist at the forefront of creation. More than 30 years since her professional debut, Hannigan has created magical working relationships with world-class musicians, directors, and choreographers for audiences worldwide. Her artistic colleagues include John Zorn, Krzysztof Warlikowski, Simon Rattle, Sasha Waltz, Kent Nagano, Vladimir Jurowski, Andreas Kriegenburg, Andris Nelsons, Esa-Pekka Salonen, Christoph Marthaler, Antonio Pappano, Katie Mitchell, and Kirill Petrenko. The late conductor and pianist Reinbert de Leeuw has been an extraordinary influence and inspiration for her development.
The Grammy and Juno Award-winning Canadian musician has shown a profound commitment to the music of our time and has given the world premiere performances of nearly 100 new creations, with extensive collaborations with composers, including Boulez, Zorn, Dutilleux, Ligeti, di Castri, Stockhausen, Khayam, Barry, Dusapin, Dean, Benjamin, and Abrahamsen.
A passionate musician of unique and courageous choices, Hannigan is renowned for creating innovative concert programs, combining new and older repertoire in a highly dramatic and authentic manner. She began her career as a soprano after her studies at the University of Toronto with Mary Morrison, tackling some of the repertoire’s most challenging and virtuoso roles. Hannigan then turned her hand to conducting, with her debut in 2011 at the Théâtre du Châtelet in Paris, and now balances her engagements as a singer or conductor on a free and original path. She has held the position of Principal Guest Conductor of the Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra since 2019, and in 2026, she will begin her tenure as Chief Conductor and Artistic Director of the Iceland Symphony Orchestra. She became a member of the Order of Canada in 2016.
In recent years, she has been conducting world-class orchestras, including the Royal Concertgebouw and Cleveland orchestras, the London Symphony Orchestra, Rome’s Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia, has ongoing relationships with festivals including Aix-en-Provence and Spoleto, and has had starring soprano roles on opera stages including London’s Covent Garden, the Teatro San Carlo in Naples, the Paris Opera’s Palais Garnier, and the opera houses of Berlin, Hamburg, and Munich.
Bertrand Chamayou is one of today’s most strikingly brilliant pianists, recognized for his revelatory performances at once powerfully virtuosic, imaginative, and breathtakingly beautiful. A leading interpreter of French music, his vast repertoire includes major bodies of work such as the complete piano works of Ravel, Liszt’s Transcendental Études, Années de pèlerinage, and Messiaen’s Vingt Regards sur l'Enfant-Jésus. At the same time, the French pianist possesses a deep passion for new music, having worked with composers including Pierre Boulez, Henri Dutilleux, György Kurtág, Thomas Adès, Bryce Dessner, and Michael Jarrell.
This season he will appear with the London Symphony Orchestra in Gstaad and La-Côte-Saint-André, play a chamber music evening at Wigmore Hall, perform with the Seattle Symphony Orchestra, the Orchestre de la Suisse Romande, the Basel Chamber Orchestra, the Chamber Orchestra of Europe, the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra, the Basel Symphony Orchestra, Les Siècles, the Gürzenich Orchestra Cologne, the Belgian National Orchestra, and the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. A tour with Barbara Hannigan will take the two musicians to Montreal, Toronto, Vancouver, Victoria, La Jolla, Rochester, Philadelphia, New York, Ottawa, Washington, and Paris for duo recitals. Duo recitals with Sol Gabetta will occur at the Wiener Konzerthaus, the Gewandhaus Leipzig, the De Doelen in Rotterdam, and in Trieste and Bologna. This season, Chamayou will give solo recitals in Clermont-Ferrand, Metz, Bordeaux, Poitiers, Perth, Paris, Dijon, Lyon, Aix-en-Provence, Toulouse, Lille, and Oeiras.
Chamayou performs with the most prestigious orchestras, including the Vienna Philharmonic, the New York Philharmonic, the orchestras of Cleveland, San Francisco, Pittsburgh, Chicago, Atlanta, Montreal, Vienna and London, the Orchestre de Paris, the Tonhalle Orchestra Zurich, the Orchestre national de France and the Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France, the Gewandhaus Orchestra Leipzig, the Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen, the radio orchestras in Munich, Frankfurt, Cologne and Copenhagen as well as the NHK Symphony Orchestra, the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra, and the Orchestra dell’Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia. He has had the privilege of playing under the batons of Pierre Boulez and Sir Neville Marriner and working with conductors such as Esa-Pekka Salonen, Herbert Blomstedt, Semyon Bychkov, Charles Dutoit, Mikko Franck, Santtu-Matias Rouvali, Krzysztof Urbański, Philippe Herreweghe, Gianandrea Noseda, Philippe Jordan, Andris Nelsons, François-Xavier Roth, Tugan Sokhiev, Sir Antonio Pappano, and Elim Chan.
A highly regarded chamber musician, his partners include such renowned artists as Sol Gabetta, Barbara Hannigan, Vilde Frang, Renaud and Gautier Capuçon, Leif Ove Andsnes, the Quatuor Ebène, and Antoine Tamestit. He is very committed to new repertoire and has also worked with Henri Dutilleux and György Kurtág and, more recently, with Thomas Adès, Bryce Dessner, and Michaël Jarrell, who dedicated his last piano concerto to him.
Chamayou has published many highly successful recordings, including a Naïve Records CD of music by César Franck, which earned several accolades. For his recording of Camille Saint-Saëns’s Piano Concertos Nos. 2 and 5, he was awarded the 2019 Gramophone Classical Music Award for Recording of the Year. The only artist to win France’s prestigious Victoires de la Musique on five occasions, he has an exclusive recording contract with Warner/Erato and was awarded the 2016 Echo Klassik for his recording of Ravel’s complete works for solo piano. His new album Letter(s) to Erik Satie pairs the music of Satie and Cage.
Chamayou was born in Toulouse, France. His musical talent was quickly noted by pianist Jean-François Heisser, who later became his professor at the Conservatoire de Paris. He completed his training with Maria Curcio in London. Since 2021, Chamayou has been co-artistic director of Festival Ravel, the major new international festival celebrating Maurice Ravel in France’s Basque country.
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