Tous les Matins du Monde by Pascal Quignard, Alain Corneau.
Music by Sainte Colombe and Marin Marais (played/arranged by Jordi Savall et al)
This film is a vehicle for its astonishingly beautiful, funereal music. The story fictionalises the life of the 17th
Century French musician and composer, Monsieur de Sainte-Colombe and it is told through the memories of his student; 17th/18th Century Composer Marin
Marais (played by Gerard Depardieu and also, as a younger man, by Depardieu’s
son).
Death, loss
and heartbreak are at the core of this sad film; the music reflects this.
The film begins
with Marais announcing to his students “All notes must finish like dying”. The
composer is old, corpulent and seems unable to play the viola properly anymore.
Irritated by the sound of his students as they clumsily practise he is roused to
make the claim that, in comparison with his dead mentor, Monsieur de Sainte-Colombe, he is ‘worthless’. Marais then tells the story of de
Sainte-Colombe.
Sainte
Colombe’s life is devoted to playing the viola, taking care of his two
daughters and repudiating all contact with the outside world. Dramatically, he
refuses in outrage the king’s invitation to come to the palace and play as a
court musician.
The death of
Sainte Colombe’s wife is the single, most defining fact in his life. He mourns
her constantly. His devotion to music is set in motion by her passing. He loved
and loves her, living almost completely in her wake. Although he breathes and
moves his life effectively ended the day she died.
Soon, his dead
wife starts to appear to him. When he sees her first in his music room he has
the place where she stood painted as a still life by his friend, Baugin.
As years pass
Sainte Colombe’s wife appears to him constantly. He knows and he doesn’t know
that she’s not real.
He tells her “It hurts that I can’t touch you.”
She replies: “There is nothing to touch but wind”.
He tells her “It hurts that I can’t touch you.”
She replies: “There is nothing to touch but wind”.
The
overwhelming force of an absent lover has torn him out of this world.
So with a
teacher as morose as Saite Colombe you can see that Marais hasn’t licked his
sense of fun off the stones. Marais, as a young man, arrives to seek a musical
apprenticeship with Saint Colombe. The latter accepts him not for his skills,
rather for his ‘grief’ (Marais had been kicked out of a previous singing
apprenticeship when his voice broke).
So, a match
made in misery, right from the get go!
Sainte
Colombe is effectively a recluse whose world comprises his dead wife, his music
and his 2 daughters. He places enormous demands on Marais to make the same renunciation
for the sake of music.
The
relationship between master and protégé breaks down on this point. Marais
accepts the very poisoned chalice that his teacher had refused; he becomes a
court musician and as a result he soon becomes persona non grata at the Sainte Colombe household.
Although he
had begun a passionate relationship with Sainte Colombe’s daughter, in time
Marais’ life as a court musician takes over and he leaves her, breaking her
heart and only returning to visit her briefly on the death bed his rejection
had prepared her for.
She hangs
herself in grief after he rejects her.
No surprises
then when Marais meets Sainte Colombe again after this dreadful event their
conversation is
Saint Colombe:
“So what do you seek in music, sir?”
Marais: “I
seek sorrows and tears”
My first
reaction was that this film is ponderous and turgid. That it takes itself a
little too seriously and therefore succeeds in ignoring the paradoxical absurdities,
ironies and downright comedies of its central themes – death and sorrow.
But then I
thought, maybe I just don’t understand the 17th – early 18th
Century imagination and worldview.
This film is
set, after all, right in the middle of the “Little Ice Age” ; a meteorological
period lasting from the 14th until the 19th Centuries
characterised by much colder winters and shorter summers than we see today. With
the attendant poor harvests and increased pressure on agricultural economies to
say nothing of the impacts on physical and psychological health it can’t have
been a particularly fun time to be alive in Northern Europe.
Even setting
weather aside, life expectancy can’t have been high when any passing infection
could take you off, so death and suffering must have been everyday intimates in
a way that is hard for me to imagine.
What was I
expecting in an historical film about death and suffering – Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life?
For Sainte
Colombe, music is not something that can actually be named. Neither is it
something that can name: “Music exists to say things that words cannot say,
which is why it is not entirely human”
Marais says he has found that music is for God. His teacher answers: “You’re wrong, for God speaks”.
If music is
anything at all, it is metaphoricity, which is to say it is elusivity –
it cannot be named, it cannot name, it cannot be appropriated or appropriate.
It is that which perpetually avoids being anything because it is itself naming and un-naming, appropriating and liberating.
This
non-state allows the musician and the listener to experience the non-existing
spaces between life and death, between presence and absence. In a world where
loved ones such as Sainte Colombe’s wife can be brutally, suddenly taken by illness
at any time, this property of music is important. Sainte Colombe loves and is
utterly torn out of the world by the absence of his wife. Music allows him to
experience a reality that straddles the impossible space between life and
death, it allows him to be with the woman he loves. Music becomes so important
because he cannot be with her and he cannot exist without her.
What they
settle on as a definition of music rests on its metaphorical and elusive properties.
They describe it as a gift, a libation, a sacrifice to the dead: “A refreshment
for those who have run out words. For the shadows of children”.
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