Any review of the Vingt regards should begin by discussing how well the pianist conveys the cycle's visionary awe and builds its disparate sections into a true cycle. But here the virtuosity is so remarkable that even listeners with a profound distaste for Messiaen – for whom the 15th Regard ('The kiss of the infant Jesus') is a by-word for sentimental religiosity – may listen openmouthed.
Sheer virtuosity is an important part of the cycle's language: one of the functions of Regard No 6 ('By Him all was made') is to astonish, and the power and excitement of Aimard's playing are indeed astonishing. Virtuosity is also desirable if Messiaen's demands for a huge palette of colour and orchestral or super-orchestral sonorities are to be met. In No 14 ('The gaze of the angels') his notes evoke 'powerful blasts of immense trombones'; Aimard's prodigious range of timbre and dynamic provide just the sound that Messiaen must have imagined. The penultimate Regard makes a more extreme demand: that in the hushed coda the player should recall a passage from the Fioretti of St Francis where 'the angel drew his bow across the string and produced a note so sweet that if he had continued I should have died of joy'. Here the effect is suggested not by virtuosity but intense concentration, stillness and purity of colour. Could it have been a little slower? Possibly; Aimard's timing is faster than most and a few of his silences could have been held longer but his dazzling technique and fabulous range of colour make this the most spectacular reading of the Vingt regards yet.