Skip to main content

Christopher Houlihan to present Vierne organ symphonies in nationwide performances

THE DIAPASON

Louis Vierne’s six organ symphonies will be played in marathon performances in six North American cities this summer by the young American organist Christopher Houlihan. The first and last of these will offer all six symphonies on the same day, while the other four will offer two successive evenings of three symphonies each.



The series begins in New York City on the date of Vierne’s death 75 years ago, June 2, 2012. It will be part of the Voices of Ascension series at the Church of the Ascension, with three symphonies beginning at 3:00 pm and another three after a dinner break beginning at 7:30 pm.



St. John’s Cathedral in Denver will host the second performances on June 15 and 16 beginning at 7:30 pm.



Other performances are in Chicago at Rockefeller Chapel on July 6 and 7 at 7:30 pm, Los Angeles at the Cathedral of Our Lady of Angels on July 19 and 20 at 7:30 pm, and in Montreal at the Church of the Gesu on August 3 and 4 at 7:30 pm.



The final event will be hosted by the Church of the Incarnation in Dallas on August 18, with two sessions beginning at 3:00 pm and 7:30 pm.



Houlihan featured the Vierne second organ symphony on his debut CD released at age 19 while still a college student. He is a recent master’s degree recipient from the Juilliard School, and holds the Prix de Perfectionnement from the French National Regional Conservatory in Versailles. He spent a year as assistant musician at the American Cathedral in Paris while studying there.



All three of Houlihan’s organ teachers happen to be pedagogical descendants of Vierne; John Rose at Trinity College, Connecticut, Paul Jacobs at the Juilliard School, and Jean-Baptiste Robin at the Versailles Conservatory.



Information and details are available at
www.Vierne2012.com.

Related Content

A Conversation with Christopher Houlihan

Joyce Johnson Robinson

Joyce Johnson Robinson is associate editor of The Diapason.

Files
Default

Christopher Houlihan may very well be the youngest organist ever interviewed by The Diapason. A Connecticut native, Houlihan—sometimes known as “Houli”—made his debut album at 19 (a recording of the Vierne Second Symphony, made before he went to France in his junior year; see the review by David Wagner in The Diapaso, January 2009, pp. 19–20). His second recording (Joys, Mournings, and Battles, Towerhill Recordings) was recently released—a significant achievement for any artist, but all the more amazing given his youth. Houlihan, who placed first in the High School Division of the Albert Schweitzer Organ Competition (see David Spicer, “Albert Schweitzer Organ Competition 2003,” The Diapason, November 2003, p. 17), is a graduate of Trinity College, where he studied with John Rose; during his senior year he made his orchestral debut with the Hartford Symphony Orchestra, performing Barber’s Toccata Festiva. Rose had insisted that Houlihan pursue some study with a different teacher, so during his junior year Houlihan studied with Jean-Baptiste Robin at the conservatory in Versailles, where he earned the French equivalent of an artist’s diploma. He also served as assistant musician at the American Cathedral in Paris, under Edward Tipton, working as choral accompanist and directing two children’s choirs. One Sunday when Tipton was away and Houlihan was to serve as both organist and choir director, the cathedral received a few hours’ advance notice that the President and First Lady of the United States, Mr. and Mrs. George W. Bush, would attend.
Houlihan’s first teacher, John Rose, described meeting the youngster prior to playing a recital—the young man and other family members came an hour early to get a bird’s-eye-view seat, in order to see the console and player up close. This initial meeting led to lessons with Rose at Trinity College, and subsequently to Houlihan’s matriculating there. Rose notes that one of Houlihan’s qualities is the ability to generate excitement about the organ and its music, to be able to communicate the music and his passion for it to an audience, and credits some of this to Houlihan’s technical mastery of rhythm and accent in way that makes the music “electrifying.” Rose feels that Houlihan’s “thirst for knowledge and learning” lead him to be “well informed about various performance practices,” yet realizing “the importance of bringing his own ideas and a fresh outlook to his interpretations. He also understands (and enjoys) the need to adapt his ideas uniquely, as needed, from one organ to the next.”
Christopher Houlihan’s fans are of all ages and include an 85-year-old retired math teacher at Trinity, along with students at the college; they have formed a group known as the “Houli Fans,” and this has expanded into marketing: t-shirts, caps, and mugs are available. Most of these students had never experienced an organ recital before supporting their friend. When he performed with the symphony during his senior year, they chartered buses to take throngs of students to the orchestra hall, where they rained down loud cheers from the balcony. Christopher Houlihan currently studies with Paul Jacobs at the Juilliard School, and is represented by Phillip Truckenbrod Concert Artists (www.concertartists.com). Houlihan can be found on Facebook and YouTube, and his website is www.christopherhoulihan.com.

Joyce Robinson: Do you come from a musical family?
Christopher Houlihan
: My family isn’t musical, but my parents have always been incredibly supportive of my passion. I think my mother signed me up for piano lessons just so I would have something to do after school. At the beginning I liked it, I thought it was all right, but I kept practicing and eventually joined a church choir in my hometown of Somers, Connecticut when I was about 8, and discovered the organ. The organ in the church was an electronic organ, and the organist there always had the tremolos on, but she showed me everything she knew and encouraged me to explore. She let me practice on the instrument. I was immediately excited by it and drawn into it, and I started reading as much as I could about the organ and tried to talk to other organists, but at the same time, I had no idea how to take organ lessons. It was obvious you could take piano lessons or lessons on any other instrument, but the organ was kind of a mystery to both my parents and me. My mother loves telling the story of walking into my bedroom and seeing me at my digital keyboard, moving my feet around. She discovered I had put rows of masking tape on her hardwood floor, in the outline of the pedalboard, so that I could learn how to play the pedals. She was a bit horrified that I had put tape all over her floor, but at the same time, she thought it was pretty clever.
Then, in 1999, my mother read in the newspaper that there was an organ concert going on in Springfield, Massachusetts. We’d never been to an organ concert before, never really heard any classical organ music, but we went, and I got hooked. I still have the program from that recital, and, looking back on it, I can’t imagine having had a better introduction to concert organ music: I heard Franck’s Pièce Héroïque and Vierne’s Third Symphony for the first time that day. After the concert, we spoke with the organist, and I said, “I want to take organ lessons, what do I do?” And the man said, “Why don’t you come down to Hartford and play for me?” This was John Rose. We went to Trinity, and I played for him; I was twelve years old, and he took me on as a student. From there, it just took off—I kept studying with him throughout high school, and when it came time to look at colleges, Trinity turned out to be a very good fit for me. John never pushed for me to go to Trinity; he would have been supportive of any decision I made, but for a lot of reasons I chose Trinity, and I’m really glad I did.

JR: Is that where your interest in Vierne came from? John Rose is well known for his work on Vierne, and your first recording was mostly Vierne.
CH
: Yes, it was. John has been a wonderful mentor, and he’s never forced any particular style of playing on me, and I’ve studied all sorts of repertoire with him. But I do suppose I’ve had more exposure to Vierne than many other people, certainly because of his love of Vierne. I remember working on the “Berceuse” from the 24 Pieces in Free Style; that was probably my first Vierne piece.

JR: How old were you then?
CH
: I’m not sure! I was in middle school, probably 13. Then when I got to Trinity, he said “You should really learn the Vierne Second Symphony, I think it would be a good piece for you.” And I learned it, and I absolutely loved it. Vierne is very chromatic, it’s very different from most Widor . . . Some people say things like, “You should never play a complete French symphony, it’s too long, it’s trash, audiences don’t like it,” but I find it incredibly gratifying as a performer and as a listener to hear a complete symphony. You rarely go to an orchestral concert and hear the Finale from a Beethoven symphony—you hear the whole work. I think a Vierne symphony works much better as a complete piece . . . the individual movements speak much more profoundly when you hear them in the context of the whole symphony.

JR: You must have worked on quite a bit of French repertoire with John Rose before you went to France.
CH
: I did.

JR: And when you got to France, did you find the approach to French music to be different?
CH
: That’s a complicated question to answer, but yes, the approach was very different. I went to France because I had a strong affinity for French romantic music, but I also wanted to learn more about French classical music, as well as study modern French music. Certainly one of the most beneficial aspects of studying organ music in France is hearing and playing on French organs. But having grown up on American organs, playing primarily in drier American acoustics, and approaching music from an American perspective in general, I really had to learn a new style of playing, one that was more effective for those instruments and rooms. My teacher, Jean-Baptiste Robin, often talked to me about “taste,” which is, of course, completely subjective, but I became more aware of the fact that taste is also cultural, and people from two different backgrounds (musical and otherwise) will have very different opinions about what they consider to be “in good or bad taste.” For example, sometimes I would phrase something a certain way, or accent something a certain way, and Jean-Baptiste would remark that it sounded “American.” Well, I am American, after all!
What is true, though, is that French music sounds most “at home” on French organs. One of the most incredible experiences I had was going to Poitiers Cathedral, where Jean-Baptiste Robin is titulaire, and hearing the 1791 Clicquot organ there. When I heard French classical music on that instrument I was almost in tears, it was so beautiful. That music came alive and worked in a way I had never heard it before. The same can be said of romantic music, but to a less extreme degree, when hearing it on French romantic organs. But what I’ve come to believe through those experiences is that what is far more important than choosing the historically correct stops, or playing in a historically correct way, is the type of musical effect that comes across to a listener. If hearing Widor played at St. Sulpice brings you to your knees, then that music should have the same effect wherever you’re playing it, and, typically, in my opinion, to get that kind of effect on American organs, you have to play the music in a very different way than you might in France.

JR: So are you saying that one must register more with one’s ears than just looking at labels on the knobs?
CH
: Yes, absolutely. And at the same time, you don’t have to travel all the way to France to register that way. I think you have to go with your gut—you have to look for what’s the most musical solution when you’re registering anything. It’s not what the book says is the correct registration, but what has an effect—what makes the music come alive.

JR: Was there any particular aspect of registration that you had to make adjustments for when you returned to the U.S.?
CH
: There are all sorts of things one can do. One basic idea that is important to know about is the upward voicing that a lot of the French organs have, where things really sing in the treble in a way they don’t on most of our organs. There’s not an easy solution to this, but it’s something to keep in mind and listen for. The other thing is that our Swell boxes are, generally, much more expressive even on smaller organs, and you can use them in a different way for the kinds of musical effects that naturally occur without moving the box on a French organ. The reason Franck used the Hautbois with his 8′ foundations was to make the Swell more expressive . . . if the oboe isn’t needed, I leave it off. Many American organs have the only chorus reeds in the Swell, and they might be quite loud; therefore, you don’t always have to play with the full Swell on where Vierne or Widor says “full Swell.” If you’ve only got a full Swell and one more reed on the Great, you don’t get a crescendo effect; you go from loud to louder. You’ve got to allow more liberty for these things, because in the end you’re being truer to the composer’s intentions . . .

JR: Tell us a little more about your time in France. Life in Europe is usually different than it is here, so what was it like for you—your schedule, your study, your practicing? Did you spend time learning the language?
CH
: I was there through the Trinity College Paris program. They have about 20 to 30 students there each semester, and through that program I took French language classes, a class on French culture, a course on art history and architecture—they offer all sorts of courses, ranging from history of the European Union, to independent studies on anything you want to learn about. I did part of my coursework through them, and Trinity gave me credit for my organ lessons at the conservatory in Versailles, and my private harmony lessons with Jean-Baptiste.
I was also lucky enough to have an incredible job at the American Cathedral in Paris, working with Ned Tipton. I was the assistant musician, which meant that I accompanied the choir on Sunday mornings, and I directed two children’s choirs—the children’s group, and a teenager group—and along with all this I had an apartment in the cathedral tower, which was really incredible! You could climb to the top of the tower, and you had one of the most spectacular views of Paris. You could see all of the major monuments, really stunning. The cathedral is on the Avenue Georges V, which is right off the Champs Elysees . . . the whole experience was very surreal and I feel so lucky to have had the opportunity. And the people at the cathedral are so wonderful. There are a lot of Americans, of course, and people from England, from Australia, and French people too!

JR: During your time in France, you performed for George and Laura Bush at the American Cathedral in Paris. Can you recall that day?
CH
: I’ll certainly never forget it. It actually began on a Saturday afternoon when I got a knock at the door of my apartment. Now, my apartment was 83 steps up a cement spiral staircase, so I didn’t get very many knocks on the door . . . I was fairly surprised to discover the dean of the cathedral and two French police officers with enormous rifles standing in front of me. They explained who would be coming for a visit the following morning. To complicate things, Ned was away, the adult choir hadn’t had a rehearsal the previous Thursday, and we had the children’s choir scheduled to sing that morning too. Unfortunately, we had to keep the news completely secret for security reasons, so I couldn’t let the choirs know what would be happening. Sunday morning was a little hectic . . . security came and set up metal detectors, dogs sniffed through the whole building, and of course, they didn’t care that I had a choir to rehearse! We wound up with about 15 minutes to run through the anthems, but we pulled it off pretty well.

JR: What were your studies like with Jean-Baptiste Robin?
CH
: Robin was an excellent teacher and I learned a great deal from him. At his recommendation, we spent the year working almost exclusively on French music, and nothing could have made me happier. Each week I would prepare a different piece, by de Grigny, Marchand, Couperin, or one of the other French Baroque composers. We worked a great deal on Franck, of course, on Alain’s Trois Danses, as well as one of Robin’s own pieces, Trois Éléments d’un Songe.

JR: What made you choose Juilliard for graduate study? For that matter, why even bother with graduate study, because you had already made a recording, you were signed to professional management before you even got a bachelor’s degree, if my calculations were correct?
CH
: True. I chose Juilliard because I really wanted to work with Paul Jacobs and I have had a wonderful time studying with him. I’ve been lucky at this point to have studied both at Trinity and at Juilliard, and have had vastly different experiences at both schools. At Trinity, the focus was on studying music in a broader context—a liberal arts school; I took classes in all sorts of things: science, math, philosophy—it was wonderful, and I made friends with all sorts of people studying all different subjects, and I can’t say enough positive things about how that can affect one’s perspective on making music. But I really felt I was ready to study music in a much more intense environment, and Juilliard was a great choice for that. I love being in New York City, being at Juilliard, and working with Paul. It’s been very rewarding.

JR: Has it been an opportunity to learn a lot of new repertoire, or just refine what you already know?
CH
: One of the unique things about the Juilliard program is that we’re required to perform a new piece each Thursday morning in our organ studio class, which is open to the public. And that was definitely a big draw to go there, to learn a lot of repertoire. It can sometimes be difficult to learn a piece very deeply when you’re going through so much music so quickly, but you can always bring things back to Paul and work on them more, and of course work on them more on your own, which is where the real music happens, spending time getting to know the music very intimately. To touch on the last question again, even though I’ve been lucky to have these opportunities to record a CD and study in France and work under management, which I’m incredibly grateful for and excited by, I believe one never really stops learning. Juilliard has been a wonderful place for me to grow more as a musician, and I hope to continue to do that for the rest of my life.

JR: You have a website, and a presence on Facebook—do you find that these media help build your audiences?
CH
: I’m not sure, but I do think they’re incredibly important tools. How many people are on Facebook now? I have no idea, but there’s no reason not to take advantage of it and to be communicating in the world where most people are interacting today. I don’t know if my online presence necessarily helps build my audience, but it certainly doesn’t hurt it. It certainly helps attract younger people.

JR: Do you notice that your audience has a younger demographic than that of other organists?
CH
: I don’t think so, not yet at least, but attracting younger people to classical music is something I feel very strongly about. And one of the greatest things I experienced at Trinity was bringing my friends who weren’t musicians to my organ concerts, and getting them excited about it. They responded very positively.

JR: Would that be the Houli Fans?
CH
: The Houli Fans grew out of that, from friends of mine who weren’t musicians, but who came to my organ concerts and got excited by the music and discovered something far more fantastic than they ever expected to. I would have never guessed some of my college friends would greet me by humming the opening bars of Vierne’s Second Symphony—or talk to me about how fascinating a Bach fugue was. Houli Fans has caught on in a very organic way, and audiences everywhere I go are interested to hear more about it. At Trinity, students came to the concerts and saw that I loved performing, thought the music was exciting, and they responded by getting more people to come! This is such a good sign for organ music, to see people, of any age, who don’t know anything about organ music responding to it. I think in a way the organ may stand in a better place now than it ever has, I suppose you could say—it has been so dismissed and ignored for so many years, that now it stands to be rediscovered. We’ve all been in situations where people ask about being an organist. They really don’t know what that is, they don’t know what that means, what we actually do. When they hear exciting classical organ music, they’re so wowed by it—it’s true. I’ve played recitals this year and people come up to me and say, “This was my first organ concert and it was way better than I ever expected!” I tell them, “Now go tell somebody else. And come back again and bring them!” Once people discover what’s going on, they’re excited by it. And that’s a really good sign.

JR: Do you see any special role for technology such as iPods or YouTube to advance organ music, or are those just tools like a CD would be?
CH
: I think what’s important is reaching as many people as you possibly can. And people are on Facebook, on YouTube—a lot of people are using these things, and if we ignore them (and I’m not suggesting we necessarily are), you’re ignoring a big part of your audience. So I think it can absolutely help. YouTube is a fantastic resource for hearing and seeing performances—it’s an incredible archive of music and musicians and organs and all kinds of music, not just organ music, and quite a tool for marketing and advertising. Everything links to something else, and people can see you and discover other organ music and other performances.

JR: Well, back to the Houli Fans. What are they up to these days?
CH
: We have shirts and hats and coffee mugs, and people are really responding well to it. Everywhere I’ve been this year I hear “Oh, I’m going to join the Houli Fans” and “I’m your newest Houli Fan” and things like that. And I find that both musicians and non-musicians want a very fun way to connect with the performer and somehow be involved in the performance. It’s fun!
And there’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of fun, or with classical music being fun. It’s been fun for centuries!

JR: You also have an interest in musical theater. Do you have much time for that any more?
CH
: No, not right now, in graduate school, and with a busy performance schedule. But I did a lot of it in high school—I was music director of several shows. That was a lot of fun, and actually a really great learning experience. And I did a lot of it in college, too—music directing, performing on stage, singing, dancing, and all of that. I really enjoy it. At the moment I don’t have plans to do it professionally, but it’s a small passion of mine. I particularly love the music of Stephen Sondheim, and, coincidentally, I’m going to be inaugurating the organ at the Sondheim Center for the Performing Arts in Fairfield, Iowa.
I think there’s a lot that musicians can learn from theater, both from straight drama and musical theater, about how to approach a musical score, similar to the way an actor takes a script and analyzes everything that’s going on to create a character, and perform that character night after night. I try to approach music the same way—take the score and truly consider how to create a musical experience—in a way . . . a whole play. Not necessarily a story, but create the kind of experience I’d like to have as a listener. I think there’s a lot we can learn from theater and the other arts.

JR: Of what you’ve worked on so far, is there any particular repertoire you found a difficult nut to crack—you mentioned finding the character and learning how to bring that out; is there any music that’s been, say, a little more opaque for you?
CH
: One of the most incredible things about the organ literature, and one of the most daunting, is the centuries that it spans. All this repertoire and all these different styles—personally, I think it’s impossible to be fluent in and to perform all these styles in a convincing way. Maybe it’s possible; I’d like to be wrong. When I’m learning a piece in a different style that I haven’t studied before, I try to approach it with respect for the scholarship that’s been done on it and its performance practice, but also perform it in a way that feels honest to me, so that I can perform it and convince the audience of the music. I don’t think there is much value in performing something just because you think you should—that you should play so-and-so’s music. Well, what if you don’t like so-and-so’s music? A lot of people may like so-and-so’s music, and a lot of scholars may say it’s important . . . But I don’t have to perform everything under the sun.

JR: In one of Gavin Black’s regular columns in The Diapason, one of his points was that if you don’t really like something, why waste your time learning it? Life’s too short—unless you’re in a competition and it’s required.
CH
: At the same time, I’ve learned some pieces—I’m not sure I can name a specific one—where I’m not sure about it at the beginning, or I think I’m not going to like the piece. But then after I learn it I think, “Wow, now that I’ve studied it, and learned more about what the composer was trying to do, and found ways to make it come alive for my own performance, it really is a good piece.” And sometimes I decide to learn a piece, starting off by thinking it’s a great piece, and then after becoming more familiar with it, decide “This isn’t right for me.” It works both ways.

JR: You’ve already recorded two CDs—are you preparing any other recordings? What are your other plans for the future?
CH
: I hope to be able to keep recording, and I hope to be able to continue performing. I really enjoy traveling and meeting new people, but most importantly, I love performing and bringing music to an audience. I believe it’s more like making music with an audience. Sometimes I even tell that to the audience too—I thank them for making music with me, since I can’t do it by myself, and since I get so much joy from performing. Eventually, I’d love to be teaching and sharing my love of organ music with others in any way I can.

Christopher Houlihan Vierne Marathon: A review of the New York recital

On Saturday, June 2, Christopher Houlihan kicked off his six-city tour of the six Vierne symphonies with two recitals at the Church of the Ascension on Fifth Avenue in New York City

Jonathan B. Hall

Jonathan B. Hall is music director of Central Presbyterian Church in Montclair, New Jersey. His first book, Calvin Hampton: A Musician Without Borders, is available from Wayne Leupold Editions. He is past dean of the Brooklyn AGO Chapter.

 
Files
webDIap0812p19.pdf (463.53 KB)
Default

On Saturday, June 2, Christopher Houlihan kicked off his six-city tour of the six Vierne symphonies with two recitals at the Church of the Ascension on Fifth Avenue in New York City. This church has been since 2010 the home to a large and very successful Pascal Quoirin organ. There is no doubt that the program performed on it that day will stand as one of the greatest of its career.

There were two recitals with three symphonies apiece. First, we heard the odd-numbered symphonies. After a leisurely dinner break, the even-numbered were offered. In addition, a shorter intermission was inserted before the final symphony on each program. The programming design is astute, as it balances early, middle, and late works; the recitals were well matched in terms of sheer musical heft.

A native of Somers, Connecticut, Houlihan earned a bachelor’s degree at Trinity College in Hartford, where he studied with John Rose, and a master’s degree at the Juilliard School,  studying with Paul Jacobs. He is Artist-in-Residence at St. Ignatius of Antioch Episcopal Church in New York. During concert season 2010–2011 he performed at two AGO regional conventions, made a European tour, and inaugurated the new pipe organ at the Sondheim Performing Arts Center in Iowa. His first recording, made after his sophomore year in college, was reviewed by David Wagner (The Diapason, January 2009, pp. 19–20). An interview with Houlihan was published in the November 2011 issue of The Diapason (“A Conversation with Christopher Houlihan,” by Joyce Johnson Robinson). Christopher Houlihan is represented by Phillip Truckenbrod Concert Artists.

To play all six Vierne symphonies is a formidable undertaking, as anyone who has learned even one of them will understand. The sheer audacity of the project—all the greater, as it comes from a man not yet twenty-five years old—is enough to elicit several bravos. The recitals themselves elicited quite a few more.

I arrived at Ascension about fifteen minutes early. It was a warm day, and I soon shed my blazer. I’d chosen a seat discreetly removed from the bulk of the audience, in order to write uninhibitedly without raising curiosity or causing distraction. Dennis Keene, the gracious music director of Ascension, politely remanded me to an acoustically ideal seat in the center of the nave. Before the recital began, Keene was visible in the narthex and aisles, warmly greeting audience members. He was clearly relishing his role as host, and was a most gracious and friendly presence.

There was an attractive Vierne 2012 booklet, listing the entire tour itinerary, the ordering of the recitals, and biographical information on both Vierne and Houlihan. Also, a smaller printed program gave the history and specifications of the Manton Memorial Organ, as the Quoirin at Ascension is officially called. (See The Diapason, November 2011, pp. 1, 30–32.) Finally, I was also given a button to wear, with the same tour logo as on the booklet. Others in the audience were wearing another pin, with the words HOULI FAN in large letters. I was struck at the forthrightness and cleverness of the marketing side of the tour, which extends to a very savvy Internet presence as well. Many friends and well-wishers of Mr. Houlihan were in attendance.

It was just a minute or two after three o’clock—on the very day when, seventy-five years before, Louis Vierne had died at the console—that Dr. Keene announced the artist, and Christopher Houlihan emerged to warm applause. He began without spoken preliminaries, and launched into the First Symphony.

 

First Symphony

From the first notes, on the Swell, I was impressed. The opening movement was played with the dignity and restraint called for. The registrations were expert: silky-smooth crescendi and decrescendi, complete mastery of the swell-boxes. The mutual chemistry of organist, composer, and instrument was apparent from the start.

It must be acknowledged that not everything was perfect in subsequent movements. In particular, I think we may envision Vierne’s characteristic chromaticism as carrying the emotional content of the music; but the form of the movements, and in particular the rhythmic aspect of the music, provide a vital intellectual balance. One of the most important functions of Vierne’s characteristic ornamented ostinati, for example, is precisely to provide relief and emotional distance, while building up positive energy. Absent these, we are apt to find ourselves in a sea of existential chromatic anxiety.

At certain moments, this rhythmic element was not yet as completely well-controlled as it might have been. Even in a lighter and lyrical movement, such as the pastorale—where the singing line was exquisite, and the registrations both authentic and really beautiful—I missed the rhythmic shaping that would have strengthened what is otherwise, honestly, a rather light movement. Something similar came up in the scherzo-like fourth movement, marked allegro vivace. Here, the common performance issue (at least for organists) of cramping smaller note values caused some problems in the upward arpeggios. (I have always found the scherzo in the Twenty-Four Pieces to have more musical depth than this movement. There is scant room here for even the smallest drop in fluency.)

Also, Vierne is very fond of what I like to call his “cello solos”:  brief transitional bridges in the pedal. There were times when I missed the point of these. They were always accurate, never fear: Houlihan has formidable pedal technique, as he would often demonstrate. But they didn’t always take on the full rhythmic shape, and structural import, that they might have.

I suspect that all of these issues, whatever their cause, will settle out during the remainder of the tour. Taken all together, they are light in the balance next to the positives.

 

Third Symphony

In the Third Symphony, after a somewhat more aggressive take on the first movement than I would personally choose, there was a beautiful and convincing cantilène. Here, Houlihan’s real affinity for this music shone, with elegant shapings of the phrases, a loving and lingering touch on the solo voices, and other signs of great art. The penultimate movement in this symphony was simply gorgeously done, on all levels, and the familiar finale was just right.

 

Fifth Symphony

After a brief intermission, we heard the Fifth Symphony. I’d taken advantage of the break to re-seat myself in a more secluded spot. I was rather closer to the Swell and farther from the rest of the organ, but found I could compensate without much trouble. In addition, I was by now convinced of how deeply Houlihan “got” this organ. The first movement was masterful—in terms of its spacious breadth and harmonic language, clearly later and reminiscent (to me) of Sowerby. By this point in the recital, Houlihan seemed to be “in the zone.” Gone were the minor uncertainties, the feints at too much aggression or too much reserve. The scarifying last movement, in particular, he handled with both musical depth and technical insouciance—making one of Vierne’s most devilish moments look easy.

After a well-earned standing ovation, there was a substantial dinner break; perhaps even longer than necessary. I walked with a colleague to a favorite nearby diner, and then a post-prandial coffee. The evening recital began right on time, and again I seated myself in a new location, this time on the left side, nearer the Great. Here, the combination action was surprisingly noisy at times, but it was a nice vantage point overall.

 

Second Symphony

The recital opened with the Second Symphony, which Houlihan played from memory. He made a good, strong start of it, which he carried through to the end; despite, again, a little rhythmic “crowding” in a few spots. In this movement, the transitional passages and contrasting materials were handled perfectly. 

The second movement—one of the most extraordinary and affirmative things Vierne ever composed—contained some wonderful registrational and interpretive moments. The second largo section is represented in my notes as “bell-like . . . luscious . . . dreamy.” The agitato sections presented almost too great a contrast to these; a study in emotional struggle, though on the fast side. The scherzo showed great insight into the pathos hidden inside Vierne’s merriment. The cantabile gave us altogether new sounds, not heard before in this recital; the use of supercouplers and tremulant was fascinating. The left-hand melody, on a reed, was exquisitely musical. Finally, the finale took off very convincingly and thrillingly after a strikingly rubato opening. There was no doubt that, again, Houlihan can cut to the emotional heart of a piece and communicate it to an audience; witness the tremendous applause this piece met at its conclusion.

 

Fourth Symphony

The brooding Fourth Symphony, so unlike anything heard previously, came off very well indeed from start to finish. The first movement brought out the crepuscular mood perfectly, as did the subsequent “allegro to nowhere” (my nickname for it). The menuet was played flawlessly if a little quickly; my notes read “a diamond, but Vierne is an opal.” But overall, the emotional content of this symphony came across in all its complex darkness. Houlihan’s vision led him to a strong, almost rough, reading of the final movement—technically perfect, and an honest and believable interpretation of the psychology of the work.

 

Sixth Symphony

Finally, after the briefest of technical problems in the organ, the Sixth Symphony crowned the day. Here, rhythmic precision and control were the order of the day, without any detriment to the emotional element. The second movement was shaped beautifully; and the scherzo was masterfully controlled, and came out in all its Halloween glory. The penultimate movement ended with simply gorgeous registrations: shimmery and ghostly, fear yielding to a moonrise.

As for the final movement, I wonder if a new tradition is in the wings? Several of us who were seated near the back found ourselves standing during the final pages, watching the entire gestalt of the performance, especially the pedal passages. These were pulled off as well as they ever have been before, ever. The fact that we were standing helped us to see, and also saved us the trouble of jumping up as the music concluded. Needless to say, the whole house was on its feet in a second.

This ambitious program of all six Vierne symphonies is a musical event that should be experienced if at all possible. It will long be remembered, I am sure, as one of New York’s all-time great organ recitals. I daresay the same will be said, or has already been said, in the remaining cities on the itinerary. Bravo to Christopher Houlihan for taking on such a massive project, and for carrying it off with so much intelligence, artistry, and communicative power. Houlihan has a bright future indeed, and it was a joy to witness this milestone in his career.

 

New Recordings

David Wagner
Default

Louis Vierne: Second Symphony for Organ. Christopher Houlihan, organist, at the Trinity College Chapel, Hartford, Connecticut. Towerhill Recordings TH-72018, $19.95 www.towerhill-recordings.com.
Here is a recording by a young musician, Christopher Houlihan, who has yet to finish his undergraduate degree in organ, studying with John Rose at Trinity College in Hartford, Connecticut. At age 19, he spent his junior year abroad at Trinity College’s Paris program, where he studied organ and harmony with Jean-Baptiste Robin at the Conservatoire National de Région de Versailles. He also served as an assistant at the American Cathedral of the Holy Trinity in Paris. Houlihan has twice been a prize winner in the Albert Schweitzer Festival Organ Festival/USA Competition and was awarded the 2005 and 2007 Charlotte Hoyt Bagnall Scholarship for Church Musicians.
Phillip Truckenbrod writes a very engaging portrait of this young artist, just beginning his career and yet years ahead in his musical and interpretive skills, noting that he is a “ . . . very balanced young man and is popular, even beloved among his fellow students, and during his freshman year his many campus friends formed a group known as the ‘Houli Fans’ who show up to his performances (with several experiencing an organ recital for the first time) to cheer and yell and demonstrate their loyalty.” How engaging and refreshing that young students of the organ should have other friends besides just organists and be able to bring their love of the instrument to people who maybe would never consider attending an organ recital.
This first recording of Christopher Houlihan opens with two works by Charles-Marie Widor, the spiritual predecessor of Louis Vierne. It was Widor who numbered Vierne among his pupils and immediately recognized his talent. Further, it was Widor who made Vierne his assistant at St. Sulpice—a great honor from a teacher who was a stern taskmaster and not one to acknowledge a student’s abilities or talents.
The two excerpts by Widor that open this recording are the Allegro from the Sixth Symphony in G minor, op. 42, no. 2, and the Andante Sostenuto from the Gothic Symphony in C minor, op. 70. Widor’s music is often divided, like the music of Beethoven, into three periods. This Sixth Symphony (Widor most often referred to his organ symphonies as suites or “collections”) contains an increased interest in contrapuntal techniques and seeks to fully exploit the tonal resources of the Cavaillé-Coll organ in its entire symphonic splendor. The opening Allegro movement is a theme and variations, combining a sixteen-measure theme with a twelve-measure “recitative” idea. These two themes weave themselves together on and off throughout the entire movement and give the work its structural unity and its sense of forward musical motion. Houlihan’s playing is striking in its rhythmic vitality, crispness of articulation, and solid and flawless technique that is put to use in the service of the music and never employed for simply empty technical display.
With the Andante Sostenuto from the Gothic Symphony (Widor’s ninth symphony and a work of his third style period), Widor shows both his ability as an improviser and his increased interest in Gregorian chant during the later part of his creative life. The Gothic Symphony dates from 1895, and—unlike the “Romane” symphony (his symphony no. 10 of 1900)—the plainchant melody is only heard in the third movement, the Andante Sostenuto, which is presented in this recording. Widor quotes the Gregorian hymn Puer natus est nobis (Unto us a child is born), the Introit for Christmas Day, and the work itself is inspired by the glorious Gothic basilica of Saint-Ouen at Rouen. What a marvelous counterpart to the dynamic opening of this recording! Here Houlihan plays with a gentle and well-controlled sense of romantic rubato that is so beautifully crafted that the listener finds himself lost in the sheer beauty of the Great Flute Harmonique on the Austin organ used in this recording. You might find yourself playing this track over and over again. Widor’s American pupil Albert Riemenschneider called this “ . . . a rare movement with a spiritual content so chaste and pure that involuntarily the atmosphere of prayer and incense suggests itself.”
After this love feast of Widor’s music, Houlihan presents the main course of this recording, the Second Symphony in E minor, op. 70, by Louis Vierne. Unlike Widor, Vierne did not use Gregorian chant in his work. Dating from April 1903, this second symphony is much more chromatic, intense and broader in concept than Vierne’s first symphony of 1899. Here Vierne embraces the cyclic form more completely. The challenge for any organist is to make all five movements, different in character yet with the same explosive and almost violent energy, come together as one continuous work that unfolds movement after movement. Christopher Houlihan does this admirably, taking the listener on a journey through the valleys and peaks of this highly personal and complex music, from the opening powerful Allegro through the opposing ideas of the second movement marked Chorale; the third movement, Scherzo, is in classic sonata-allegro form, and is the lightest and most elegant of the movements; the Cantabile fourth movement is a dialogue between the ideas of tonality and modality; and the Final is much more intense and explosive than the last movement of the First Symphony.
The listener soon forgets that he is listening to a 19-year-old American organist who has yet to finish his undergraduate degree, and is swept away with the various moods and emotions that accompany this almost 40-minute exposition of the art of Louis Vierne, at the height of his powers as unanimously elected new organist of Notre-Dame Cathedral by a jury of France’s most illustrious keyboard virtuosi.
The recording closes with the Carillon de Westminster from the Twenty-four Fantasy Pieces, op. 54, no. 6. The famous theme is the chime that is rung by the bells in the clock tower of London’s Houses of Parliament. A 13-ton bell (Big Ben) strikes the hour, and four smaller bells chime what has been known as “Westminster Quarters” every fifteen minutes, increasing the one four-note phrase at the quarter hour to four four-note phrases on the hour when it is joined by that famous big bell. Vierne often would play this piece on his American tours, along with the Berceuse from the Twenty-four Pieces in Free Style and the finale of the First Symphony. What a wonderful finish to this recording, with Houlihan literally dancing through this show stopper to conclude this recording of over 63 minutes of brilliant organ playing.
The mark of a truly great actor is that you stop thinking about the actor himself and focus all of your attention on the character and the story that is told through the performance. After a while you become so engaged emotionally and intellectually that you become one with the story. Listening to this recording, one becomes absorbed in the music, forgetting about the particular organist or the particular organ (we organists love to think about the instrument, don’t we?) and just simply let the music absorb us totally.
It is hoped that this recording will be the first of many from Christopher Houlihan, and you will no doubt become a “Houli Fan” after just a few minutes of listening to this recording.
David Wagner
Madonna University
Detroit, Michigan

 

Current Issue