Pierre BOULEZ: ...explosante-fixe... (1972�1991); Notations I�XII (1945); Structures II (1956, 1961). Pierre-Laurent Aimard; Florent Boffard; Sophie Cherrier; Emmanuelle Ophèle; Pierre-André Valade; Andrew Gerzso; Ensemble InterContemporain; Pierre Boulez. Deutsche Grammophon 445833-2 [69'53"]

While in some sense the life of each of may be considered a grand work in progress, Pierre Boulez has, in his compositional career at least, taken this metaphor literally. That is to say, no score of his has ever been considered truly complete, self-contained, or finished, and may ultimately be revised, recontextualized, or used in part or in whole as material or idea for another score. In this way Boulez seems to feel that he can control not only the creative but also the philosophical parameters of his life, in keeping with the nonsystematic beliefs of his favorite authors, including Proust, Mallarmé, and James Joyce. Thus the importance of this disc lies in the latest (though probably not last) versions of these three works, including the premiere recording (in any form) of the long-awaited ...explosante-fixe...

The twelve Notations were originally composed for solo piano in 1945, when Boulez was still a student of Olivier Messiaen. At some point embarrassed by what he no doubt considered youthful indiscretions of style and emotion, Boulez withdrew them from his catalog of works, though in the mid-50s he did adapt two of them as instrumental interludes in the first Improvisation sur Mallarmé (which itself was later incorporated into Pli Selon Pli). Around 1980 he decided that the full set could be resurrected and transformed. Brief (only one is longer than two minutes, most are under a minute in length) and atmospheric, they were gradually revised and coated with a typically French, luxurious orchestration which distracts the ear from the «impurities» of stylistic influence which bothered Boulez to begin with. (The first four of them were recorded in this orchestral garb by Daniel Barenboim, on Erato 2292 45493-2). Apparently appropriate now for public consumption in their original form, Pierre-Laurent Aimard's performance here reinvests them with the acute feeling and originality of design (traces of Debussy and Messiaen notwithstanding) that the orchestral version masks under layers of color and texture.

Boulez composed his first «book» of Structures for two pianos in 1951�52, in which he attempted to systematize not only the intervals (as does serialism) but also the duration, rhythm, and dynamics of the music. He acknowledged Messiaen's similar experiment in Mode de valeurs et d'intensites by borrowing that composition's tone row as the basis for his Structure. His ultimate rejection of the idea of total serialism on philosophical grounds found him again dissatisfied with the results of this work (Structures, Book I was thus withdrawn and has not yet reappeared). The second «book» dates from 1956�61 � a period in which Boulez, attracted to John Cage's indeterminate scores but unwilling to delegate compositional authority or lose control of his creation, was attempting to incorporate unpredictable (aleatoric) elements of performer choice into the music's form. Structures II is still rigidly serial as regards organization of pitch intervals, but the interaction of the two pianos is based upon a larger set of variables, including the nature of the material, its execution by the performers, and certain acoustic phenomena (having to do with tonal resonances and harmonics � there are apparently many intricate pedal effects indicated in the score, and particular notes and chords periodically ring out, hover in the air, decay, and disappear). Regardless of how rigorously the music has been constructed, what is heard is enormously dramatic music full of dynamic explosions and heroic outbursts of energy and virtuoso filigree. As effective as pianists Pi-Hsien Chen and Bernhard Wambach are in their live recording (CBS Masterworks MK 42619, coupled with an equally admirable Notations and Le Marteau sans Maître), Aimard and partner Florent Boffard simply outdazzle them, taking greater liberties with phrasing to stress playfulness and nearly demonic possession without losing any of the music's tactile strength or coherent assertiveness.

Which brings us to ...explosante-fixe..., which has its own convoluted history. It was first conceived in 1971 �in response to a call for brief musical homages on the anniversary of Stravinsky's death� as a theme and sequence of five increasingly elaborate variations («Transitoires») employing two flutes, two clarinets, two violins, and harp in a continuously shifting web of polyphony. Within a year's time the music had been expanded and the instrumentation changed to one each of flute, clarinet, trumpet, violin, viola, cello, harp, and vibraphone, all of which were now to be electronically modified through a computer-generated system. This version was premiered in New York in 1973, during Boulez's reign as music director of the New York Philharmonic and, rumor has it, was to have been recorded, but Boulez changed his mind. Word was that, tinker as he might, he could never arrive at a satisfactory form for the electronic component of the work, which did not stop him from redesigning aspects of the instrumental parts into Mémoriale (1985) and Anthèmes (1991). Picking up the score again in 1991, he continued its ongoing readjustments, aided by the latest computer technology, and here we have a new performing version for three flutes (subject to electronic modification) and chamber ensemble (unaffected by the electronics) of two of the variations («Transitoire VII» and «V») plus his latest thoughts on the theme («Originel», as rearranged from its subsequent use as Mémoriale) and two electronic interludes («Interstitiels»).

In this form ...explosante-fixe... sounds difficult, often dense, and undeniably dramatic. Without a score in hand it's nigh onto impossible to determine how the music has been enlarged from its original ten-minute length to this thirty-seven-minute fantasy. What can be heard are the various transitions of speed, texture, and character which the music undergoes � enough that these suggest episodes of an ongoing story, but of sometimes puzzling perspective, as one might encounter in James Joyce's fiction. There's some audible «imitation» or sharing of melodic material between the flutes and instruments of the chamber group, though many passages are scored so thickly that it's hard to discern details, and overall the sheer complexity of the music is such as to prevent easy assimilation. Credit must be given to the musicians of the Ensemble InterContemporain and especially the three solo flutists listed above for their virtuosity, concentration, and commitment.

I can't say whether you'll «enjoy» ...explosante-fixe... or the other pieces on this valuable disc. While I don't mean to imply that listening to Boulez's music is a chore �personally I find it exhilarating, challenging, and sometimes perplexing� all I can say is that it is now available for us to hear; Boulez's work (at least for the time being) is done, and ours begins.

Though he may well disapprove of the designation, in ...explosante-fixe... Pierre Boulez has written one of the great flute concertos of this or any other century. At nearly 37 minutes, it is also probably the longest, and the expansiveness of the score, dating from 1991-3, gives the lie to all those persistent tales about Boulez's reluctance to compose. He has never lacked for ideas: he's just been unusually fastidious in his concern to do those ideas full justice.

This is music of prodigious melodic inventiveness � and if you believe Boulez incapable of lyricism, try ...explosante-fixe... from as early as 1'50". It shares a relish for regular rhythmic patterns with other later works (Messagesquisse, Répons), but its primary concern is with the possibility of enhancing natural sound by electronic means. There are no sound effects, no 'funny noises', but a subtle enrichment of pitch and tone colour as the principal flute and its two satellites interact with ensemble and electronics in music that moves absorbingly between turbulence and poetic reflection in Boulez's uniquely personal way.

This is a brilliantly engineered recording, and my only regret is that it wasn't possible to present it as a sequence of tracks cued to a fuller commentary in the notes. No less engaging are the performances of Notations and Structures, Livre 2, the former revealing the very early Boulez's debts to Debussy, Stravinsky and Bartok, the latter displaying the full, formidable power of his still-youthful originality. For both books of Structures one still has to turn to the pioneering recording by the Kontarsky brothers (Wergo, 6/93), but Livre 2 can well stand alone, and here Pierre-Laurent Aimard and Florent Boffard provide a finely characterized reading, as gripping in explosiveness as in restraint, and the pianos are recorded with exemplary naturalness.

This is a superb disc. The energy and sensitivity of the works it contains puts a great deal of other contemporary music deeply into the shade, and performances and recordings are equal to the music's stature.