Duquesne University Celebrates Jean Langlais Centennial

Carolyn Shuster Fournier

A French-American organist and musicologist, Carolyn Shuster Fournier is an international concert artist and titular of the Aristide Cavaillé-Coll choir organ at La Trinité Church in Paris, France (cf. www.shusterfournier.com). Her latest CD, “An American in Paris” (Ligia Digital, distribution Harmonia Mundi), recorded at La Madeleine church, features French and American music. Chevalier in the Order of Arts and Letters, Dr. Shuster Fournier has written several articles for The Diapason.

1. In the beginning
As soon as he was appointed choirmaster at the Sainte-Clotilde church in Paris, France, Franck had the ambition of becoming the titular of the Cavaillé-Coll under construction: one of his programs, a concert given on February 22, 1858 in Orléans, attested that “the piano will be played by M. César Franck, the choirmaster and the first organist at the Sainte-Clotilde parish in Paris.”1 During the official inauguration of the church on December 19, 1859, during which he played (as did Lefébure-Wély), the musical press presented him as the “organiste titulaire de Sainte-Clotilde.”2

In his biography of César Franck, Maurice Emmanuel justly reveals:

César Franck was choirmaster at Sainte-Clotilde (1858) where Théodore Dubois accompanied his choir. Imposed upon him by Abbot Hamelin, the parish priest, this choir could be compared to a loose-fitting overcoat whose sleeves hampered him from conducting. Franck was also organist in this same church, where he possessed one of the most beautiful instruments ever constructed by Cavaillé-Coll and whose admirable voices gradually aroused his genius as an improviser.3

Franck generously allowed Théodore Dubois to play this instrument occasionally when he conducted the choir, as on April 2, 1861, for the first performance of his three-voice Mass in A Major, op. 12 (1860) with orchestra.4 As Dubois has confirmed in his Souvenirs, it was only in 1863 that Franck was finally named titular of this most poetic instrument.5
Although Dubois left Sainte-Clotilde to begin his functions as choirmaster at La Madeleine beginning on November 27, 1868, he remained César Franck’s close friend. He strongly supported his nomination in 1871 as organ professor at the Paris Conservatory. He recalled this moment in his short speech given during the inauguration of the monument in César Franck’s memory, by Alfred Lenoir, in the square located in front of the Sainte-Clotilde Basilica on October 22, 1904:

When the position as organ professor became vacant following Benoist’s death, I went right away to see my master Ambroise Thomas, then director, and I said to him, “There is only one man truly dignified to now occupy this post: it is César Franck”; he responded to me: “This is true.” And he named him to this post.6

Dubois dedicated to Franck his Prélude, the first piece in his Twelve Pieces for Organ or Piano Pédalier (Paris, Leduc, 1886).
Among the liturgical works written for ceremonies at Sainte-Clotilde, Franck composed several choral works during the first decade of his service as choirmaster: in addition to his three-voice Mass, op. 12, a dozen offertories, motets and several hymns, his oratorio The Seven Last Words of Christ on the Cross, finished on August 14, 1859, and notably his Dextera Domini, Offertory for Easter, op. 11, dedicated to the Abbot Pierre Ambroise Hamelin (priest from 1857–1883).7 In 1867, Théodore Dubois composed, at Hamelin’s request, his version of the Seven Last Words of Christ for Good Friday. This work was then traditionally performed each Good Friday at the Madeleine church. Samuel Rousseau, a musician who served this parish between 1870 and 1904, also composed religious music with harmonies openly inspired by Franck, which was used for the ceremonies at Sainte-Clotilde: two collections of his music even indicate this in their titles: Répertoire de Ste-Clotilde (Le Beau, 1887; reissued by Pérégally & Parvy, 1893–94) and Hymne à Sainte-Clotilde (1897, Pérégally & Parvy), with the text by Abbot Le Droz, which was dedicated to Abbot Gardey, General Vicar of Paris, the main priest at Sainte-Clotilde from 1883–1914.

2. The heritage
The Sainte-Clotilde musical tradition remains unique because it produced a group of musicians whose line of transmission from the professors to their students remains unbroken. The line of students of the titulars at Sainte-Clotilde who belonged to this tradition, listed below, is the most complete one to this day, without however pretending to be exhaustive:

César Franck (his organ students at the Conservatory)8
Samuel Rousseau (Nov. 1871; 2nd acc. 1872; 1st acc. 1875 ; 1st prize, 1877)
Guillaume Couture (Canadian) (1873 to 1875)
Charles Bordes (ca. 1880)
Georges MacMaster (ca. 1880), also a student of Théodore Dubois
Gabriel Pierné (Dec. 1880; 2nd prize, 1881; 1st prize, 1882)
Dynam-Victor Fumet (Dec. 1885)
Charles Tournemire (Dec. 1889; 1st acc., 1890)

Théodore Dubois (his students in harmony at the Conservatory)
Guillaume Couture (1873–1875)
Maurice Emmanuel (1st acc. 1883)
Léon Cazajus (2nd prize 1887)
Jules Meunier (ca. 1895)

Charles Tournemire (private organ and improvisation students)
Ermend Bonnal (beginning in 1904)
Maurice Duruflé (beginning in 1920)
Daniel-Lesur (ca. 1927)
Henriette Puig-Roger (ca. 1930)
Jean Langlais (1931)
Bernard Piché (1938–1939)

Jean Langlais (private organ students or those enrolled at the Schola Cantorum)
Pierre Denis (beginning in 1932)
Pierre Cogen (beginning in 1950)
Marie-Louise Jaquet-Langlais (beginning in 1966)
Jacques Taddei (1980).

The example of Théodore Dubois to Maurice Emmanuel
An example of faithful support of a professor to his students, that of Théodore Dubois to Maurice Emmanuel alone illustrates the quality of their relationship. At the time of Emmanuel’s nomination as choirmaster, on October 20, 1904, Dubois wrote him the following letter:

My dear friend,
I am delighted that you have accepted the functions of choirmaster at Ste-Clotilde. You have plenty of ideas, a cultivated spirit; you know how to manage, in these particularly difficult circumstances when we have imposed the “Motu proprio,” the departure of some good and of some bad. You will scarcely be the sectarian and uncompromising man from the “Schola Cantorum,” and you will neither glide to the side of worldly music, so-called more or less religious or rather more or less poorly written. You must be firm and active. You will have all of that, and in addition you are young. Please accept therefore my congratulations and my most sincere wishes, and you know that I am always affectionately devoted to you.
Théodore Dubois9

Two years later, on July 1, 1906, Dubois congratulated him for his actions within this parish:

My dear friend, I would like to express my complete satisfaction with the beautiful performance of my Mass in the Palestrinian style this morning at Ste-Clotilde. I congratulate and heartily thank you for your fine artistic interpretation. It is difficult to acquire the necessary suppleness in such a style. You must then encourage the singers of your choir and give them the compliments they deserve.
Congratulations also for the Plain-Chant [sic], which, thus sung and phrased, loses all of the cavernous severity that one is in the habit of giving to it, and which too often renders it disagreeable.
Beautiful organ pieces, well-played.
All my respects to Mrs. Emmanuel and affectionately to you,
Th. Dubois10

One year later, after Maurice Emmanuel resigned from his position as choirmaster at Sainte-Clotilde, Théodore Dubois wrote to him on April 2, 1907:

My dear Emmanuel,
That which you have told me does not surprise me! My long personal experience in this field where I worked for so many years of my life, has not hardly left me any illusions neither on the goodness, nor on the piety nor on the intelligence of those whom you know!
I was just going to write to you to say that I just learned about your resignation from Mr. Meunier, without a doubt the one whom you refer to with a M.— He just came to visit me, telling me this: “Mr. Emmanuel resigned from Ste-Clotilde, I am most certain; I am not less certain that my candidacy has a chance; I would be grateful if you would support me with a recommendation to the priest.” In these conditions, I could not refuse to write him this note, especially since I have known him for quite a long time. I therefore wrote a small letter to the priest conceived more or less in these terms: “I have been informed that Mr. Emmanuel has left his position as choirmaster at Sainte-Clotilde. If this is true, please allow me to etc. . . .”
Since I always tell the truth, I was going to write this to you, really certain that you did not take this solemn decision until after a series of all sorts of disgusting events in which you did not want to tarnish your dignity.
You remain a Christian and a believer; this is good! Strong souls support without weakness all human iniquities. You are among them!
The last phrase of your letter reminded me of my past. How many times my most sincere efforts remained unknown and were ridiculed and how many times I was treated unjustly and in a biased manner! But like you, I can say that I had “received sympathy from a minor elite, and that a sincere work in view of an elevated art is never entirely lost.”
Madame Dubois joins me and hopes that you will share with Mme. Emmanuel the assurance of our most affectionate sympathy.
Théodore Dubois11

The dedications
The dedications of works by composers from the Sainte-Clotilde Tradition to their colleagues demonstrate their mutual esteem and their fraternal relationships. Samuel Rousseau dedicated his Fantaisie, op. 73, “to the memory of my dear Master César Franck,” the Cantilena of his Fifteen Pieces (Paris, Leduc, 1892) to Léon Cazajus, and an Offertoire funèbre in this same collection to the Abbot Chazot, named second vicar at Sainte-Clotilde in 1889. Maurice Emmanuel dedicated his Three Organ Pieces (Paris, Lemoine, 1986) to his assistant Emile Poillot. Ermend Bonnal dedicated his Prayer and Chorale, op. 27, to the memory of his friend Samuel Rousseau. Gabriel Pierné dedicated the Prelude of his Three Pieces, op. 29, to the choirmaster Samuel Rousseau, and the second piece in this collection, the Cantilène, to Théodore Dubois, who became titular of the Grand Orgue at La Madeleine. Pierné also composed a Tombeau de César Franck for piano (published posthumously), based on one of César Franck’s improvisation themes.
Following Samuel Rousseau, Charles Tournemire dedicated his first important organ work to César Franck, his Triple Choral (Sancta Trinitas), op. 41, written in November, 1910 (Lyon, Janin, 1912) “to the memory of my venerated Master César Franck. This work renders homage to my master’s musical testament, his Three Chorals (1890).” For Tournemire,

the highest expression of organ music is manifest in the choral. The refined style which ensues gives it a special significance. This is not only a question of writing, its significance is higher: it is the result of a special state of the soul. . . . From the instant when the composer enters this temple perfumed with incense, he feels penetrated with dignity: his prayerful soul is filled with light.12

Tournemire’s Triple Choral contains three sources of inspiration:

1st Choral—You are grand, oh Father! You have created the world. You have regulated the grandiose rhythm. You have created life. We glorify you and we love you.
2nd Choral—The one who regulates the immense rhythm of the world, this power that is beyond all our comprehension, in order to save us took on our humanity, was born in a manger, grew up among men, lived a life in a miserable world, taught with sublime maxims, died on a cross between two thieves. Admire Christ’s ineffable sweetness and admire his unfathomable goodness and greatness. Love Christ.
3rd Choral—This grandiose manifestation of the silent march of the stars in space, the sublime act of Christ on the cross, all of these acts beyond our comprehension were dictated by the Holy Spirit.13
Charles Tournemire dedicated several of his works to his substitute organists: in 1930, to André Fleury, no. 15 of the op. 56 from l’Orgue mystique (Laetare), and to Daniel-Lesur, no. 16. In 1934, he dedicated no. 40 (for the XIVth Sunday after Pentecost) to Emile Poillot as well as no. 41, op. 57, from l’Orgue mystique (for the XVth Sunday after Pentecost) to Maurice Duruflé. Duruflé, in turn, reconstituted Five Improvisations for organ, which Tournemire had recorded at the beginning of 1931 for Polydor.
To his former student, substitute, and friend Ermend Bonnal, Tournemire dedicated several of his works: in 1895, Le Ménétrier (one of his Six Pieces for piano, op. 20—Marseille, Georges Kaufmann, 1900), an Offertory in G Major, op. 21, from the Variae Preces for harmonium (edited in Lyon by Janin in 1904, along with an Entrée in B Major, dedicated to Samuel-Rousseau) and in 1931, the 33rd office of l’Orgue mystique, op. 57, for the eighth Sunday after Pentecost (Paris, Heugel, 1931). In turn, Bonnal dedicated to his maître his Paysage landais (Paris, A. Durand & Fils, 1904), and to André Fleury, the third piece of his Paysages pyrénées, rebaptized Paysages euskariens, Cloches dans le ciel. Bernard Schulé dedicated in memory of Ermend Bonnal his Icône, the fifth of his organ pieces entitled Enluminures, op. 12 (Rouart Lerolle et Cie., 1946).
Tournemire dedicated his Fioretti, op. 60, no. 2 (Paris, Hérelle, 1932) to his friend Jean Langlais. It is moving to read the text written to his student, blind since the age of two:

You judge me well because, to punish me for my deep faults you weakened my eyesight and momentarily I lost my sight! Oh! Am I not only too worthy of these tribulations? And don’t I deserve even yet greater ones?14

Let us recall that it was with much emotion that Jean Langlais played this work at a concert at Sainte-Clotilde in homage to Tournemire on November 16, 1989 (to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of his death). This was the last time that Pierre Cogen heard Langlais play in this church that he had served as an artist for 43 years. Too weak to go up to the Grand Orgue tribune, Langlais, who strongly wished to perform this work, decided to perform it on the choir organ. Jean Langlais dedicated his Rhapsodie Grégorienne (no. 9 of his Nine Pieces, op. 40, published in Paris by Bornemann in 1945) to the memory of his maître Charles Tournemire as well as his In Memoriam, op. 231 (Paris, Combre, 1987).
In September, 1986, Langlais dedicated his Three Antiphons to the Holy Virgin, op. 242, for solo voice (or for unison choir) and organ (Pro Organo, 1991) to Father Joseph Choné, who had just been named head priest at Sainte-Clotilde, as well as several works to his colleagues: to his former student and substitute organist Pierre Denis, Hommage à Landino from his Twenty-Four Pieces for Harmonium or Organ, op. 10 (Paris, Hérelle, 1939) and his Suite française, op. 59 (Paris, Bornemann, 1948); to his disciple and substitute organist Pierre Cogen in 1973, “Oh oui, viens Seigneur, viens Seigneur Jésus,” no. 4 from his Five Meditations on the Apocalypse, op. 175 (Paris, Bornemann, 1974); and to the choirmaster François Tricot, Dominica in Palmis, op. 83 (Paris, Schola Cantorum, 1984). Pierre Cogen dedicated several works to his maître: in 1988, Offering (Paris, Combre, 1990) and his Two Chorales (Paris, Combre, 1993); in 1980, he dedicated his Hosanna in exsilio to François Tricot (the first of his Two Hosannas on Gregorian texts; Vienna, Universal, 1985).
To his student and second wife Marie-Louise, Jean Langlais dedicated his “Il était, Il est et Il vient,” no. 2 of his Five Meditations on the Apocalypse, op. 175, and his “Feux d’artifice,” no. 4 of his Rosace, op. 211 (Paris, Combre, 1981). In turn, Marie-Louise Jaquet-Langlais wrote a biography on Langlais and his work: Ombre et Lumière, Jean Langlais, 1907–1991 (Paris, Combre, 1995). To Jacques Taddei, Jean Langlais dedicated, in 1988, “He is Born,” no. 6 of his Christmas Carol Hymn Settings, op. 243 (H. T. Fitzsimons, 1988).

Improvisation
Improvisation on the Grand Orgue played a primary role in the music at Sainte-Clotilde. As Joël-Marie Fauquet emphasized,
the fame of César Franck as an organist was founded on improvisation. . . . As a composer, he rarely put himself in the forefront. . . . Of the six hours of his class each week, the Master devoted at least five of them to improvisation. This says everything. . . . Franck intended to bring it to a level of perfection that had never been achieved, thus transcending the liturgical requirements which motivated this transient art.15
His two books of improvisation themes, which later belonged to Gabriel Pierné, were used especially at Sainte-Clotilde. This art served as a springboard for his imagination, which he expressed with fluidity, poetry and lyricism. Franck transmitted this art to his students. It is notably Charles Tournemire who understood so well his improvisations and their relationship with specific aspects of the Cavaillé-Coll at Sainte-Clotilde. Maurice Emmanuel was a first-hand witness to this transmission:

Please allow me, as one of Charles Tournemire’s comrades, to share a past experience during a heroic moment when, at Sainte-Clotilde, we attempted to charm our parishioners with music that was far too austere. Several weeks ago, while listening to the brilliant postlude he improvised, this brought back distant memories of how amazed I was when I listened to Tournemire’s musical commentaries during the service; on certain days, during the Postlude, his playing produced furious outbursts from the organ: for this mystic is also a genuine dramatist. If his art voluntarily brings serenity and peacefulness, it can suddenly break forth with energy: and, trembling, he attacks the keyboards, which previously sang meditatively, in response to the liturgical functions.16

Tournemire transmitted this art to his students; his pupil Jean Langlais relates:

His pedagogy, as admirable as it was, was not lacking in originality. For example, concerning a plan for improvisation: First, create the atmosphere . . . Secondly, impose it on your listeners, so that the central part is rich. Rise . . . Rise . . . then, your public will follow you . . . They will begin to pant . . . no longer able to breathe . . . Then play for them two brief and dissonant chords on the entire organ . . . Observe a long silence . . . The audience is dead . . . Then, open the gates of heaven with a poetic conclusion on a Bourdon 8? and a Voix Céleste . . .17

3. In conclusion
All of the musicians who served Sainte-Clotilde during the past 150 years had personalities and religious beliefs that were strongly different. César Franck, who kept Ernest Renan’s The Life of Jesus on his bedside table, loved the splendor of the worship services,

that which exalts the exemplary and transcending quality of sublime drama, above all human, as the pediment of Sainte-Clotilde shows, where the sculptor represented Christ showing his wounds, according to the sad bent of the piety that it thus affirms.18
Samuel Rousseau was kind, cordial, obliging and elegant. His compositions were easily accessible to the parishioners. Gabriel Pierné was neither a practicing nor a fundamental Christian, a true contrast to the great mystics Dynam-Victor Fumet, who was closely associated with anarchists and who married into a family close to the founder of the Theosophical Society, and Charles Tournemire, an emotional eclectic fond of the writings of Ernest Hello, Joseph Péladan and Dom Guéranger. For Tournemire, “all music which is not written to glorify God is useless.” This last statement puzzled Jean Langlais who dared to ask his master in 1931: “But what do you do with Debussy, Ravel, Stravinsky, Bartók?” “USELESS, he responded dryly.”19 A firm Christian believer from Brittany, Jean Langlais was attracted at a young age by the ideals of his professor at the Institute for the Blind in Paris, Albert Mahaut, the author of the book, Le Chrétien: l’homme d’action.20
In spite of the many difficulties encountered throughout the history of this parish, the musicians of Sainte-Clotilde were able to respond as best they could to the aristocratic parishioners’ taste for worldly music, to the various reforms of church music (notably to the separation of the church and state in December, 1905, to the restoration of plainchant and Gregorian chants and to Palestrinian music and much later, to Vatican II). They also kept their artistic ideals, in order to strongly adhere to high-quality music. Maurice Emmanuel, who did not succeed in accomplishing his mission within this parish, remains “historically victorious”21 because he later did so in other contexts, notably in the circles in Saint-Germain-en-Laye and in his classes at the Paris Conservatory, where he formed an entire school of church musicians, notably Olivier Messiaen. His lucidity concerning César Franck and Charles Tournemire sums up the role of the musicians in the Sainte-Clotilde musical tradition:

If Franck ignored the joys that the least of artists can ever know, he was conscious of their force and of their liberty. The survivors of the time when the Saint-Clotilde organ sounded under the fingers of a master, his happiness in playing, his improvisations that he delivered, was recalled by privileged listeners, . . . In his organ loft, Franck was king. It took several minutes for his power to break forth in all its fullness, and it brought forth an orchestral tumult, in which the master played an imposing prelude. To compel him to intone the triumphal hymn, he seemed to shake the keyboards; suddenly the hymn appeared in a grandiose construction . . . More than once the horrible bell, rang by the singers’ accompanist “to tell the organist to stop playing,” announced the end of the offertory and the necessity to conclude . . . Franck, who had just played a series of evocative arpeggios, then began to proclaim: “I have not yet said anything!” or if indeed he was completely inspired: “What a shame.” But he obeyed the bell. During the Vespers, the verses of the Magnificat gave him the opportunity to create brief masterpieces in spite of the clergy’s reprimands and the congregation’s impatience, totally insensitive to the splendors of this art. It is at the organ that Franck spent his best moments when his energies were renewed, where the disdain of his contemporaries no longer troubled him, where the dignity of his life without intrigues received in the Lord’s house its supreme reward.
Art is made of new beginnings, the destiny of artists as well. Franck was not the last of musicians for whom life was sparing of favors. The most noble ones, with character and talent, those who avoid pushing others around, meditate, and only claim of their works that they be written, remain ignored for too long. César Franck, the service finished, delivered treasures to them. Have the times changed? The parishioners, do they listen to the artist who today (1926) through a close alliance with liturgy and with art, equally respecting the religious and musical functions, constructs an edifice built on the themes taken from the service of the day that is as disciplined in its structure, as those by César Franck, of whom he was one of the last students? His master bequeathed to him the gift of these contemplative and impassioned improvisations, sometimes serene, other times tumultuous, and which are like mystical dramas conceived in the secret corners of the soul. The successor of the master of the Beatitudes also buries himself in the meditation of his work and only emerges to express the thousand voices of his organ with much lyrical rejoicing, which the congregation does not seem to understand . . .22
For more information concerning the musicians of the Saint-Clotilde church in Paris, France, one may contact the following associations:
Association E. Bonnal
“Héritage Musical”
Chemin des Jardins
30700 St. Victor des Oules, France
www.bonnal.org
[email protected]

Association Théodore Dubois
Christopher Hainsworth, président
Rue de la Fontaine
34800 Lacoste, France
[email protected]

Les Amis de Maurice Emmanuel
Anne Eichner-Emmanuel, présidente
30, rue Céline
92160 Anthony, France
[email protected]

César-Franck-Gesellschaft E. V.
Internationale Vereinigung
c/o Dr. Christiane Strucken-Paland & Dr. Ralph Paland
Berrenrather Straße 134
50937 Köln, Germany
tel: 0049-(0) 221-5103355
[email protected]

L’Association des Amis de Jean Langlais
Brenda Dean, Présidente
3, rue des Moulins
35560 La Fontenelle, France
www.jeanlanglais.eu
Monsieur Denis Havard de la Montagne
“Le Moulin blanc”
87300 Bellac, France
[email protected]

This article first appeared in French in L’Orgue 2007, II-III, no. 278-279, pp. 177–185.

Acknowledgements
Carolyn Shuster Fournier warmly expresses her gratitude to Francis Dubois, Anne Eichner-Emmanuel, Denis Havard de la Montagne, Helga Schauerte and to the Ruth and Clarence Mader Memorial Scholarship Fund for its grant in 2006.

Choirmasters and Organists at the Sainte-Clotilde Basilica, Paris
The following list was established with the kind assistance of Denis Havard de la Montagne (substitutes and assistants are indicated in parentheses).1

Choirmasters
1857–1863: César Franck
1863–Nov 1868: Théodore Dubois
Nov 1868–1869: Edouard Marlois
1869?–1875: Stéphane Gaurion
1876–1882?: Alexandre Georges
1882–1904: Samuel Rousseau
1904–1907: Maurice Emmanuel (Emile Poillot)
1907–1946: Jules Meunier, replaced during the war by Etienne Audfray (Pierre Besson and Robert Vincent)
Dec 1946–June 1987: François Tricot
June 1987–Sept 1988: Yves Castagnet
Sept 1988–Aug 31, 1989: Philippe Brandeis
1989–1993: Pierre-Michel Bédard
1993–June 1994: Marcel Bardon

Organist Accompanists
1857–1863: Théodore Dubois
1863?–1869: Stéphane Gaurion
1870–1878: Samuel Rousseau (Guillaume Couture)
1879–1887: ? (Dynam-Victor Fumet, organist of the Catechism Chapel in 1884)
1888?–1890?: Clotaire-Joseph Franck
1891–1923: Léon Cazajus (Emile Poillot)
1923–ca. 1964: Pierre Besson
ca. 1964–June 1987: François Tricot
June 1987–Sept 1988: Yves Castagnet
Sept 1988–Aug 31, 1989: Philippe Brandeis
Sept 1989–1993: Pierre-Michel Bédard
1993–Dec 2003: Sylvie Mallet
2004: Olivier Penin

Titulars of the Grand-Orgue
1863–1890: César Franck, but already in 1859 he played the Grand Orgue (Gabriel Pierné, after 1885)
1890–1898: Gabriel Pierné (Georges MacMaster in 1893–1894)
1898–1939: Charles Tournemire, numerous substitutes:
Ermend Bonnal ca.1910
Roger Stiegler ca. 1920
Maurice Duruflé 1920–1927
André Fleury ca. 1922–ca. 1930
Daniel-Lesur 1927–1936
Henriette Puig-Roger in 1929
Antoine Reboulot ca. 1935
Bernard Piché in 1938 and 1939
Bernard Schulé 1938–1945
Dec 1941–Aug 1944: Joseph-Ermend Bonnal (Bernard Schulé until 1945)
Nov 4, 1945–Dec 1987: Jean Langlais (Pierre Denis 1945–1972; Pierre Cogen 1972–1975, then titular; Marie-Louise Jaquet-Langlais 1979–Dec 1987)
Jan 1976–June 21, 1994: Pierre Cogen
since Easter 1988: Jacques Taddei (Olivier Penin)

Carolyn Shuster Fournier

Carolyn Shuster Fournier expresses her gratitude to Pierre Cogen and to Ann Labounsky for providing material and advice for this article, to Marie-Christine Ugo-Lhôte for the loan of her father’s collection of the review L’Orgue, to Mifa Martin for having read through the text, and to the Ruth and Clarence Mader Memorial Scholarship Fund for its grant in 2006.
An international concert artist, Dr. Carolyn Shuster Fournier is titular of the Aristide Cavaillé-Coll choir organ at La Trinité Church in Paris, France. She has written several articles for The Diapason. In October 1983, she was privileged to perform Jean Langlais’ Double Fantasy for Two Organists with the composer, in his concerts during his last tour to England: at the Royal Festival Hall in London (on October 26), at the Salisbury Cathedral, and at the Christ Church Chapel in Oxford.

The Sainte-Clotilde Tradition1 is based on the lineage transmitted in a teacher/student relationship from Franck to Tournemire to Langlais.2 Especially beginning with Charles Tournemire, these organist/composers, as well as many of their substitutes (among others, Maurice Duruflé, André Fleury, and Daniel-Lesur), the choirmaster Maurice Emmanuel,3 and other titular organists at Sainte-Clotilde—notably Joseph Ermend Bonnal, Jean Langlais, and Pierre Cogen—had an intimate, spiritual understanding of the Gregorian chants used in the traditional Catholic liturgy. This was manifest in their deeply poetic and colorful interpretations, and in their use of Gregorian chants in their improvisations and compositions. They all served their art with humility. This article is dedicated to Pierre Cogen, a French organist-composer in the Sainte-Clotilde Tradition.

Pierre Cogen’s musical formation under Jean Langlais’ guidance

Pierre Cogen (see illustration 1) was born in Paris on October 2, 1931. From 1944 to 1951, he studied at the Petit Séminaire de Paris in Conflans.4 He sang in the Schola choir, directed by the Abbot Jean Revert.5 Such a framework provided Cogen with a musical training in the ancient, pure classical tradition—in a church choir school that sang Gregorian chants as well as the classical polyphonic choral repertory. At the age of 14, Cogen began to accompany this choir on the 12-stop Cavaillé-Coll organ6 in the school chapel. Each year, Jean Langlais was invited to give a concert on this instrument. When Cogen heard him improvise brilliantly on the Gregorian Sunday mid-Lent Introit, Laetare Jerusalem, he was moved so deeply that he immediately requested to become his student. At the age of 19, Cogen studied privately with him, taking lessons either on the two-manual harmonium with a pedalboard in Langlais’ home, on the Cavaillé-Coll organ in his class at the Paris Institute for the Blind, or on the chapel organ at Cogen’s school.
After graduating from this school in 1951, at the age of 20, Pierre Cogen studied for one year with Edouard Souberbielle at the César Franck School in Paris, during Langlais’ first tour to the United States. This distinguished and cultivated professor helped Cogen to solidify his technique. Cogen then continued to take private lessons with Langlais, studying organ interpretation (especially of the works associated with the Sainte-Clotilde Tradition), and also harmony, counterpoint, fugue, and improvisation (notably of the fugue). Cogen also studied harmony with Jean Lemaire and took preparatory courses for the exam that would qualify him to become a music professor with Eliane Chevalier (Marie-Madeleine Duruflé-Chevalier’s sister) and Raymond Weber. After obtaining his Certificat d’Aptitude as a music education professor, he taught in Paris, in public schools and at the private Alsatian School from 1961 to 1993. In the meantime, from 1952 to 1966, he directed a children’s choir, Les Petits Chanteurs de Championnet, which sang four-voice a cappella music from Palestrina to Langlais. It toured, notably to Germany in 1964 and 1965.
From 1952 to 1979, in exchange for numerous lessons, Cogen assisted Langlais’ wife Jeanne7 as a musical secretary, notating Langlais’ compositions onto paper and proofreading them for publication. In 1954, he helped Langlais prepare his edition of C. P. E. Bach’s Six Sonatas.8 When Langlais urgently composed his Salve Regina Mass for the Christmas Eve midnight mass at the Notre-Dame Cathedral in 1954, his wife notated the text during the day; each night, Cogen prepared the separate vocal scores. Among other compositions, he notated Langlais’ In Paradisum (Triptyque grégorien) in a hotel in Haarlem, during the International Improvisation Competition in 1978. In 1971, Pierre Cogen decided to complete his musical training, in both organ and improvisation, as well as in counterpoint and fugue. He therefore enrolled at the Schola Cantorum—in Langlais’ organ class from 1971 to 1973, then in Yvonne Desportes’ fugue class from 1974 to 1976—obtaining the Prix de Virtuosité in organ and improvisation in 1973, and Superior Diplomas in harmony, counterpoint and fugue in 1975–76. During the first term of 1973, when Langlais took a leave of absence for illness, Cogen took lessons with his substitute, André Fleury, studying his Prélude, Andante and Toccata, acquiring a more dreamlike interpretation of the Prélude and a more flamboyant spirit in the Toccata. Fleury insisted upon absolute precision and rigor in carrying out registration changes. Cogen greatly appreciated his honesty, his rectitude of character, and his constant friendship.9
In July 1975, Pierre Cogen participated in an improvisation academy in Nice with Pierre Cochereau, driving from Paris to Nice with the American organist George Baker. When Cogen improvised an “Elevation,” Cochereau immediately put him at ease, with his customary simplicity and warmth. Cogen recalls that they began with modulation exercises, all types of canons and toccata formulas, developing numerous forms: the sicilienne, various suite movements, and, of course, the fugue. Among the advice that Cogen retained:

Carry out your effects tactfully. Don’t say everything initially!
Interweave all of the elements, one upon another.
Don’t abuse the use of major and minor scales.
Establish the tonalities of your development.
Beware of your repeated chords, too many arpeggiated formulas.
How can you return to the principal tonality? And the 6/4 chord!10

In 1979, Pierre Cogen obtained, by competition, the Aptitude Certificate for Teaching Organ and Improvisation (C.A.) in the national French conservatories. In 1984, he created the organ class at the Maurice Ravel Conservatory in Levallois, near Paris, remaining there until his retirement in 1993.

Titular at the Sainte-Clotilde Basilica in Paris

Beginning in 1955, Cogen began to substitute for Langlais at the Sainte-Clotilde Basilica when his official assistant, Pierre Denis,11 was not available. The Grand Orgue gave solemnity to the church services, and prepared and prolonged the atmosphere of the liturgical chants during the masses, vespers, weddings and funerals. When Langlais asked him to substitute for him, Cogen played for three Sunday morning masses: the 9:30 a.m. high mass was in Latin and Gregorian chant; the two others, at 11 a.m. and noon, were low masses. At the high mass, Cogen played the Prelude, the Offertory, the Elevation, the Communion, and the Postlude. During the low masses, he played continuously while the celebrant recited his prayers in a “low” voice. During the church services, Cogen based his improvisations and his choice of repertory on the appropriate chants of the liturgical year. For the vesper services, after playing a processional entrance, he improvised fifteen verses, first for the repeated antiphons that follow each of the five psalms, then, in alternation with the choir, for the verses of the hymn and the Magnificat, and then again for the antiphon.
In 1972, Pierre Cogen played the organ regularly, becoming Langlais’ official assistant. During this period, he only played two Sunday morning masses, at 11 a.m. (preceded by a long prelude) and at noon. Although the vespers were no longer held, he still played for weddings and funerals. At the beginning of 1973, when Langlais fell ill, Cogen played for all of the services. When Langlais resumed his activities, he dedicated to Cogen the fourth of his Cinq Méditations sur l’Apocalypse: “Oh oui, viens, Seigneur viens, Seigneur Jésus.”12
On January 31, 1976, at Langlais’ request, Pierre Cogen was named as a co-titular organist at Saint-Clotilde. He still played for the same number of masses. Even more important, since he had unlimited access to the organ, he became well integrated into the Sainte-Clotilde Tradition, playing much of its related repertory. On the occasion of his nomination as co-titular organist, Langlais presented him with Léon Vallas’s biography of César Franck13 with the following inscription (see illustration 2).
From 1978 to 1985, in addition to the two morning masses, Cogen played for a traditional low mass in Latin every Sunday at 6:30 p.m. (except in the summer). On May 17, 1987, Cogen accompanied Langlais’ Messe Solennelle for four-part choir and two organs15 while Langlais played solo pieces during a televised Sunday morning mass that celebrated Langlais’ 80th birthday. In April 1988, when Langlais resigned at the age of 80 due to a bad heart condition, he was named “Honorary Organist at Sainte-Clotilde.”16 Cogen succeeded him as titular, and Jacques Taddei was also named as titular, joining the list of their illustrious predecessors:

1863–1890 César Franck17
1890–1898 Gabriel Pierné
1898–1939 Charles Tournemire
1942–1944 Joseph Ermend Bonnal
1945–1988 Jean Langlais
1976–1994 Pierre Cogen
1988–present Jacques Taddei

After his nomination, Cogen dedicated his Offrande to Langlais and premiered this work during the 11 a.m. Easter Mass at Sainte-Clotilde on April 3, 1988, the day he succeeded Langlais as titular. At the beginning of this piece, a beautiful pentatonic melody is harmonized with refined simplicity (see illustration 3). After Langlais’ death on May 8, 1991, Cogen and Taddei, with other instrumentalists and choirs, played for his funeral on May 30.
From 1988 to 1991, in addition to his service playing, Cogen organized organ concerts at Sainte-Clotilde every Friday after the noon mass. These concerts continued until the church was closed in 1992 for restoration work. When it reopened in 1993, Cogen and Taddei only played for the 11 a.m. mass, but a song rehearsal that immediately preceded the mass prevented them from playing a prelude. On June 21, 1994, Cogen retired at the age of 62, after 39 years of service to this parish (21 years as a substitute organist and 18 years as a titular). On April 2, he played there for the last time—for the Easter Vigil and the midnight Easter mass, ending it with the following postlude: Langlais’ Incantation pour un jour saint, which combines the Lumen Christi chant from the Easter Vigil and the Litanies, which had been sung by the congregation during the vigil to implore heavenly aid.

International concert organist and recording artist

As a concert organist, Cogen had the privilege of premiering several of Langlais’ pieces. On December 30, 1979, he inaugurated his Noëls avec Variations, Op. 204, at the Saint-Louis des Invalides Church in Paris. On November 18, 1985, he premiered Langlais’ Talitha Koum, Op. 225, at a second concert that celebrated Langlais’ 40 years of service as an organist at Sainte-Clotilde. On Sunday, December 13, 1987, at Sainte-Clotilde, Cogen premiered, with Claire Louchet, soprano, Langlais’ Antiennes à la Sainte Vierge, Op. 242, for one voice and organ.
On February 1, 1987, Pierre Cogen performed at the Madeleine Church in Paris, along with François-Henri Houbart and Georges Bessonnet, in a concert that celebrated Jean Langlais’ 80th birthday. On February 15, 1987, Langlais’ 80th birthday, he attended Cogen’s recital at the Notre-Dame Cathedral. Cogen performed Langlais’ Chant de joie, Rosa mystica, Triptyque, and Dans la lumière, an extract from L’Offrande à une âme. At Sainte-Clotilde, Cogen also performed in several memorable organ concerts: one was held in Tournemire’s honor on November 16, 1989. It is particularly moving to note that Cogen heard Langlais play for the last time during this concert—a moving rendition of the second of Tournemire’s Sei Fioretti, which had been dedicated to him 57 years earlier, in 1932!18
Also at Sainte-Clotilde, Cogen played in two concerts that celebrated the centenary of Cesar Franck’s death in 1990 and in several recitals that were held in Langlais’ memory in 1991. On Good Friday in 1989, 1990 and 1991, Cogen was privileged to perform at Sainte-Clotilde Tournemire’s Sept Chorals-Poèmes pour les Sept Paroles du Christ, Op. 67. Father Choné, the church priest, introduced each piece with a commentary of the Gospel.
Cogen also rendered homage to his two predecessors by recording their works on the Sainte-Clotilde Grand Orgue:
1. Langlais’ works (carried out in the composer’s presence): Incantation pour un jour saint, Ave Maria, Ave Maris Stella, Offrande à Marie, Suite medievale (a 33 rpm record published by Tempo FR 760310), 1976;
2. Langlais’ Première Symphonie, Suite folklorique, Triptyque by Cybélia (CY-867), 1986; 3. Tournemire’s Sept Chorals-Poèmes pour les Sept Paroles du Xrist en Croix, L’Orgue Mystique (the Assumption and the Epiphany Offices) (CD, Cybélia, CY-883), 1990. In 1997, he also recorded Langlais’ Suite médiévale, Suite brève, and Suite française on the organ at the Church of the Holy Spirit in Mannheim (CD, Aeolus, AE-10081).

Pierre Cogen’s organ works

After retiring from his post at Sainte-Clotilde in 1994, Pierre Cogen was able to devote more time to performing and to composing. His compositions were inspired by Tournemire’s poetic language and by Langlais’ colorful harmonies. The influence of the Sainte-Clotilde Tradition is also manifest in Cogen’s use of modal tonalities, Gregorian chants, and the imitation of bells. Several of Cogen’s organ works were commissioned, notably by the Austrian organist and composer Thomas Daniel Schlee, by two organists in Switzerland, Eva and Marco Brandazza, and by the Austrian organist Herbert Bolterauer. In the following list of Cogen’s works, the titles are given in French, along with information concerning their dedications, their premieres and their publication. A brief description of each piece provides the composer’s remarks concerning his works.

1. Deux Chorals, dedicated to his dear master Jean Langlais, composed as birthday presents for him; they were premiered privately, on Langlais’ house organ, on February 15, 1974 (the second choral) and in 1977 (the first choral): “Es ist ein Ros’ entsprungen,” 1977; “Herzlich tut mich verlangen,” 1974.
Published in Paris: Combre (C 5464), 1993 (6'30").
The association of these two chorals recalls two vital extremities, one’s birth and death, as Cogen explains.
The first choral, with its inherently intimate character, uses the famous Praetorius Christmas carol in a clear, contrapuntal style, with particularly soft registrations (Gambe and Voix Celeste, Bourdon 8', with a soft Pedal Flute). The melody, in long note values in the soprano, is accompanied by a discreet movement of eighth-notes in the inner voices, while syncopated rhythms in the bass line (played on the pedal) lull the upper voices.
Cogen was studying improvisation with Langlais when he composed the second choral. Langlais had insisted that the pedal part should not stagnate in the lower notes. His student followed his advice far beyond his master’s wishes, since the pedal sings entirely in the upper range on the following stops: Flute 4', Nasard 22⁄3', Larigot 11⁄3' and Piccolo 1' (registration that was dear to Messiaen in his Banquet céleste). The choral melody, resolutely sustained with homophonic writing, is confined to the manuals (Bourdon 8', Voix Humaine and tremolo on the Swell or, if this is not available, on 8' foundation stops that can sufficiently balance the opposing chant in the pedal). If the pedalboard does not contain a G3, it is possible to play the entire pedal part an octave lower on a registration based on 2' stops.

2. Nocturne sur un thème populaire Breton, 1976, dedicated to Michèle Vermesse, his future wife; premiered by Ann Labounsky in a concert at Sainte-Clotilde in Paris on May 21, 1979.
Published in Paris: Combre (C 5396), 1992 (7'30").
Recorded by Hans Leitner at the Passau Cathedral in 1995, in Klangfarben der grössten Kirchenorgel der Welt, CD 118, Symicon, Passau, and by Ulrich Karg at the Saint-Vith Church in Belgium, 1999, in Organs in Wallonie, a province of Liège, Blawète Records, Liège.
The theme of this nocturne is a Breton hymn proposed to Pierre Cogen as an improvisation theme to conclude a concert given at Douarnenez (in the southern Finistère) on August 17, 1975. This evening hymn affirms a faith as solid as the granite that is exposed to harsh atmospheric conditions; it is presented as such in the old Breton night legends (ankou, korrigans, etc.). Cogen tried to bring this atmosphere to life in this symphonic, three-part Andante: following the triple exposition of the theme, interspersed with mysterious bell tolls, a sombre and anguished central section develops certain fragments of the theme; then a re-exposition is calmer and more lyrical. This piece finishes with a reminder of the bell tolling: at the beginning and the end of this work, two chords are superposed in the lower keyboard range, solely on the Nasard 22⁄3' and the Tierce 13⁄5' stops.

3. Chorale “Erbarm dich mein, ô Herre Gott,” 1978, unpublished (5').
In an ecumenical approach, Pierre Cogen had planned on writing several suites that would combine Lutheran chorales with Gregorian themes. This is the only work that was completed. In a particularly slow tempo, the chorale theme passes successively from the lower to the upper ranges, from pianissimo to triple forte with dense polyphonic writing, whereas the Gregorian theme, Miserere mei, Deus, serves as a countrapuntal element.

4. Deux Hosannas sur des textes grégoriens: I. Hosanna in exsilio, 1980, to François Tricot; II. Hosanna Escalquensis, 1982, to Jeanne Langlais, in memoriam.
Published in Das neue Orgelalbum II, Vienna: Universal Edition (UE 17480), 1985 (7'30").
The first piece begins with an excerpt of the Sanctus from the Missa Orbis Factor. Then, a two-part development built around a group of four descending notes is followed by a recapitulation with a canon at the seventh and a brief coda. The fear-stricken character of the music alludes to the title of the piece: we are not in heaven (in excelsis), but in this world of banishment (in exsilio), to which the Salve Regina alludes.
In the second movement, the theme, a fragment of the Missa Cunctipotens Genitor Deus in the second mode, appears three times. A fugato, based on a fragment of the theme, introduces the development section. A large-scale rallentando leads to a mysterious carillon: that of the Escalquens Church (near Toulouse), where Jean and Jeanne Langlais are buried. This carillon is played very slowly (see illustration 4, page 28). The bell tolling and the thematic fragments are developed with a crescendo, leading to a brilliant, luminous presentation of the theme in a canon at the interval of a fifth.
5. Psalmodie, composed at Cernay la Ville on December 31, 1985, dedicated to his mother.
Published in Pedals Only, Vienna: Universal Edition (UE 18601), 1988 (5').
The author could have inscribed an epigraph under the title of the piece, citing the passage in the Gospel of St. Luke (chapter I, verse 39), following the text concerning the Annunciation: “Mary left hastily to visit her cousin Elizabeth in the mountains.” At the beginning of Psalmodie, a series of three groups of three quiet F-sharps on the Flute 4' stop recall the Sainte-Clotilde church bells when they toll for the Angelus.19 As Cogen explains, after this introduction comes a three-voice fugue, whose joyful subject is none other than that of the psalmody in the eighth mode, sometimes used to sing the Magnificat. After several expositions and divertimenti, the movement is accelerated while the subject is compressed through several canons (strettos), leading to the tutti, a radiant B-major chord. Two codas are proposed, with solo pedal or with the addition of the manuals.

6. Offrande, 1988 (initially composed in 1963 for an a cappella four-voice choir with the title Le Lotus d’Or), dedicated to his dear master Jean Langlais; premiered by Cogen during the 11 a.m. Easter Mass at Sainte-Clotilde on April 3, 1988, the day he succeeded Langlais as titular.
Published in Paris: Combre (Collection Horizon), 1990 (3').
Recorded by Andrew Cantrill, at St. Paul’s Cathedral in Wellington, New Zealand.
This is a unique piece: Cogen’s only work from the 1960s, when he was strongly influenced by early twentieth-century composers such as Debussy, Ravel, Stravinsky, Bartók, and Milhaud. It is based on a Birman folklore melody in the pentatonic mode and is structured according to its four original strophes. The melody initially appears in the soprano on the Swell Oboe 8', accompanied by the left hand on the Positive Salicional 8' and a soft 16' and 8' in the Pedal. In the second strophe, a trio, the melody appears in the left hand on the Positive Cromorne, while the alto is played by the right hand on the Swell Cornet, with a Grand Jeu de Tierce in the Pedal. In the slightly agitated third strophe, the melody in the soprano is sustained by the two voices in the alto, which develop in imitation before sounding together in parallel thirds. The work finishes peacefully on the Swell Gambe and Voix Celeste stops that accompany the melody on the Great Bourdon 8'. As Cogen indicates, the absence of the B and E notes in the pentatonic melody allowed him to truly modulate: while the first and the last strophes maintained their “white” key signature, the B-flat intervenes in the second strophe and joins the E-flat in the third one.

7. Fantaisie sur une Antienne for organ with four hands and pedal, 1988, finished at Cernay-la-Ville, near Paris, on November 4, 1989, dedicated to Claire and Thomas Daniel Schlee; premiered by Cogen and Schlee in a concert that celebrated 50th anniversary of Tournemire’s death, at Sainte-Clotilde on November 23, 1989, along with T. D. Schlee’s Prisme, also a work for four hands and pedal.
Published in Vienna: Universal Edition (UE 19550), 1988 (7').
Recorded by Eva and Marco Brandazza at the Schloss Church in Bad Mergentheim (Germany), in Ite, missa est, Organum Musikproduktion, Öhringen, 1996; and by Sylvie Poirier and Philip Crozier on the Casavant organ at the Très Saint Sacrement de Jésus Church in Montréal, Canada, in Historic Organs of Montreal, CD 1.
Pierre Cogen’s fantasy contains three main sections of polyphonic writing—Lento, Andante and Allegro—that alternate with freely expressive recitatives. The Lento section sounds like a funeral march on the soft 8' foundation stops, After progressing from the lower to the upper registers, a heavy pedal note imitates a bell-like toll on low C. The Andante presents a fugue whose vigorous rhythmical theme appears in the alto, then in the tenor and in the bass. In the final Allegro, a litany-like dialogue on the foundation stops with the mixtures, the composer presents the Gregorian antiphon on which this piece is based: the “Ego dormivi” from the Easter matins, which Tournemire used several times in his L’Orgue mystique, notably in his Paraphrase Carillon. Cogen’s work ends majestically on the full organ.

8. L’Epiphanie du Seigneur, 1991, in homage to the painter, Werner Hartmann, dedicated to Geneviève and Daniel Hartmann; premiered by Pierre Cogen on November 10, 1991, for the tenth anniversary of the death of this painter, at the Parish Catholic Church in Gerliswill-Emmenbrücke, near Lu-cerne, Switzerland. Unpublished (14')
Werner Hartmann’s series of large paintings (5.60m x 1.90m) of the Epiphany of the Savior, which inspired this piece, are located in the choir of the Catholic church, Pfarrkirche Gerliswill, in the Gerliswill-Emmenbrücke district of Lucerne. They depict the three miracles related in the Epiphany Gospel: the star followed by the Wise Men (who ride on horses instead of camels), the water changed into wine, and the descent of the Holy Spirit during Christ’s Baptism. While looking at these paintings, Cogen was struck by their link with the Gregorian antiphon in the first mode, the “Tribus miraculis” from the Magnificat of the Second Vespers of Epiphany. Since this work is based on this theme, it may be sung as an introduction.
According to Cogen, in the first movement, “The Star, the Three Wise Men and the Manger Scene,” mysterious and stark sonorities (due to the light discord on the Nazard stop) recall the night and the starlit sky. The central part of this movement recalls the Wise Men (who travel on horseback to follow the star that led them to the cradle). At the end, a slow descent leads to a lulling movement, a sweet evocation of the manger scene.
In the second movement, “The Wedding at Cana and the Baptism of Jesus,” light flutes sound a discreet carillon, while the rustic reed stops introduce a folk melody full of Mediterranean light. The development, initially calm, becomes more intense, leading up to a brief and turbulent agitato that represents the servants’ astonishment when the miracle takes place. Then, the melody is transformed into a Grand Plein Jeu—solemn and hieratic—the manifestation of the Divine Presence. This fragment finishes with the first notes of Ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est.
The Baptism of Jesus by John, a penance baptism, begins with low notes and rustic sonorities that depict the universe filled with minerals and the dry desert where John the Baptist carried out his mission. This long tension is resolved in less dissonant harmonies, the first fruits of the salvation announced by John the Baptist. The quotation of the Veni Creator recalls the descent of the Holy Spirit onto Jesus. The work concludes in a luminous atmosphere with the initial Gregorian theme—that of the antiphon Tribus miraculis.

9. L’Exaltation de la Sainte Croix, Diptyque for Organ, 1994, dedicated to Monseigneur Jean Revert, Honorary Choirmaster at the Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris, for the 50th anniversary of his ordination to the priesthood; premiered by Pierre Cogen at the Notre-Dame Cathedral on Palm Sunday, on March 27, 1994. Unpublished (11')
According to Cogen, this work is a grand Gregorian paraphrase in the spirit of similar pieces by Tournemire and Langlais. The title refers to the Feast of the Holy Cross. The melodic material is taken from several liturgical antiphons and hymns from the Holy Week, in particular, the antiphons Ecce lignum Crucis, Crucem tuam adoramus, and the hymn Vexilla Regis. A Meditation on the Mystery of the Cross, an instrument of Christ’s torture but also a symbol of the Redemption, this work is in the form of a diptyque in two connecting parts:
I. After an introduction inviting one to the Adoration of the Cross, a somber procession intones the hymn Vexilla Regis in the lower ranges of the organ. This first part ends peacefully, in expectation of the Resurrection.
II. At the very beginning of the second part, the atmosphere changes. A theme of exaltation, Exaltavit illum, first in the upper range of the organ, gives birth to a fugato. Profiting from secondary episodes, the theme of the hymn Vexilla Regis winds its way into the low ranges before powerfully bursting forth. The work concludes with a fanfare, recalling its various themes.

10. Lucernaire for two organs, “Paravi lucernam Christo meo” (Ps. 131/132, v. 17), for the Christmas season or for a celebration of the Light, 1994, commissioned by Eva and Marco Brandazza and premiered by them on January 10, 1995, at the Jesuit Church in Lucerne, Switzerland (with Eva on the choir organ and Marco on the tribune organ). Unpublished (17')
Recorded by Eva and Marco Brandazza (see item 7 above).
Underneath the title, the composer placed a verse of the Psalm 131 (132): “I have prepared a lamp for my Christ.” According to Cogen, this expectation and coming of the Light, an idea that repeatedly occurs in the Christmas season liturgical texts, guided him during his preparations, from the antiphon O Oriens (for the winter solstice) and the Lumen ad revelationem gentium of the Feast of the Purification, until the hymn Jesu, Redemptor omnium and its verse. By referring to these texts that were sung during the vespers of the Christmas season, the composer thought of structuring his work in the manner of an evening service, notably the one that was formerly referred to as Lucernaire, because one lit lamps during this service. In addition, the composer did not neglect to bring out the similarity between the Latin word lucerna, the lamp, and the name of the city of Lucerne.

11. Cortège, 1996, in memory of Adrien Maciet, the organ builder; Herbert Bolterauer premiered it on November 8, 1996, at the Mariahilf in Graz, Austria.
Published in Paris: Combre (C 05909), in Enluminures. Dix Pièces pour orgue sur un thème donné, 1999 (5').
Herbert Bolterauer, the organist at the Mariahilf Church in Graz, Austria, had requested nine different composers to write a short piece on a theme by Alexandre Schrei. The title of this collection, Enluminures [Illuminations], refers to the way the composers, through the variety of their styles, were able to “illuminate” the various aspects of the thematic material. Since Cogen’s piece is a memorial one, he chose a writing style that is essentially contrapuntal, quasi-vocal. He begins his piece in a slow and grave tempo: Schrei’s theme initially appears when the pedal enters. The piece intensifies until its conclusion. According to the composer, each interpreter can choose either to maintain its restrained character throughout the work, or to increase the sonorities, leading to a maximum of sound at the end of the piece.

12. Psalm “De Profundis” for organ and brass, 1998, in memory of his father-in-law, Edouard Vermesse; Pierre Cogen premiered it on July 17, 1998, with the brass ensemble Hexagone and the solo trumpeter Pierre Dutot, at the Abbatial Church in Guîtres, France (in Gironde, near Bordeaux). Unpublished (8')
This piece develops the various aspects of Psalm 129 (130), from its initial distressful plea to its message of the Lord’s kindness and redemption expressed in verse seven. It uses various Gregorian melodies: the antiphons from the Requiem and the Christmas Vespers, the Offertory from the twenty-third Sunday after Whitsun, and the chorale Aus tiefer Not schrei’ ich zu dir (the Lutheran equivalent of the De profundis).

13. Introduction, Thème et Variations sur “Innsbrück, Ich muss dich lassen” (Variations on a song by Heinrich Isaac), 1999–2002, dedicated to Thomas Daniel Schlee; on July 8, 1999, Cogen premiered an excerpt of this work at the parish church in Igls-Innsbruck; he then premiered it in its entirety on June 18, 2002, at Saint-Sulpice in Paris, France.
Published in Paris: Combre (C 06460), 2006 (13').
In 1996, when Cogen gave a concert in Igls, in the immediate vicinity of Innsbruck, he was inspired to compose a work on Isaac’s tune known as Innsbrück. The association between its name and that of the river Inn inspired him to write an introduction followed by five variations on this theme. As in most variations, this work enables the performer to present the various tonal colors of the organ. An initial Andante introduction develops several motives of the theme, on the foundation stops and the Swell Trumpet 8¢; the theme is then presented un poco più vivo, on the 16', 8', and 4' foundation stops. After the addition of the manual mixtures and the Pedal Basson 16', Isaac’s theme is entirely presented on the full organ, with harmonies reminiscent of those of the fifteenth century, when the melody was originally composed. The following five variations present the various colors of the organ:
Variation 1: an Adagio presents the theme in the lowest part of the pedalboard, using the Swell Bourdon 8', Voix Humaine 8' and tremulant, with the Pedal Flutes 8' and 4' and, if possible, the mutation stops forming the Grand Jeu de Tierce;
Variation 2: an Andante, with the theme played by the left hand, in a light character, on the Gambe stops;
Variation 3: a lyrical movement that dislocates the theme, using dissonances and “harsh” sounding reed stops, such as the Great horizontal Trumpet 8' with the mixtures;
Variation 4: a Moderato movement on the Swell Gambe 8' and Voix Celeste, with a canon between the alto (played by the right hand) and the soprano (played on the Pedal Flute 4');
Variation 5: a vigorous Fugue, Allegro ma non troppo, that begins on the Swell 8', 4', and 2' foundation stops with the mixtures; a progressive crescendo leads to the triumphal return of Isaac’s song, in a “resolutely modern harmonization” (P. Cogen).
A coda concludes this work on the full organ, resounding an open fifth: D–A.

Ann Labounsky

Mystic Modern: The Music, Thought and Legacy of Charles Tournemire, edited by Jennifer Donelson and Stephen Schloesser. Church Music Association of America, P.O. Box 4344, Roswell, NM 88202 (musicasacra.com), 2014, $40.00, ISBN 978-0-9916452-0-6, 456 pages.

Visions of Amen: The Early Life and Music of Olivier Messiaen by Stephen Schloesser. William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, Grand Rapids, Michigan, 2014, $40.00, ISBN 978-0-8028-0762-5, 572 pages.

 

These two new books present the results of academic research on Charles Tournemire and on the life and works of Olivier Messiaen. Through the efforts of Jennifer Donelson, the guiding light behind the academic outreach of the Church Music Association of America and the managing editor of Sacred Music (the official publication of the CMAA), there have been two conferences on Tournemire, the first in Miami in 2011 and the second in Pittsburgh in 2012. Mystic Modern is a reproduction of the papers given at the Miami and Pittsburgh conferences. Stephen Schloesser, author of Visions of Amen: The Early Life and Music of Olivier Messiaen, is a Jesuit priest and professor of history at Loyola University, Chicago, and also the author of Jazz Age Catholicism: Mystic Modernism in Postwar Paris, 1919–1933. 

Mystic Modern was published in the summer of 2014 in time for the annual CMAA Colloquium in Indianapolis. Schloesser’s Messiaen book was also published in July 2014, coinciding with the American Guild of Organists’ national convention in Boston. Beyond the coincidence in publication dates, what is remarkable about the two books is the relationship between Tournemire and Messiaen. Tournemire influenced Messiaen to a much greater extent than is normally assumed; but Messiaen eclipsed his mentor by gaining greater fame during his lifetime. Book after book has been written about Messiaen, while Tournemire has remained in relative obscurity until fairly recently.

A first glance at both of these books reveals that there is much more to understand about Charles Tournemire and Olivier Messiaen than one can know only through a study of their musical scores. This “much more” element encompasses knowledge of the personal lives of the two men and the personal relationship between them. It also focuses on how history, culture, theology, literature, symbolism, and aesthetics affected them both. Mystic Modern and Visions of Amen are a must read not only for scholars or devotees of Tournemire and Messiaen, but for those interested in liturgy, music, and theology. Fortunately both books can be read in small sections, slowly and with the help of excellent indices. In the case of Visions of Amen, Messiaen’s important duo-piano work from 1943, a link to an audio recording of a live performance is included in the text.

Tournemire was certainly a modern composer who influenced Messiaen, Langlais, and many other 20th-century French composers. The extent of his “modernism” led many to dismiss his music as obtuse, and his mysticism certainly was another reason that many dismissed his music as unapproachable. Stephen Schloesser explains Tournemire’s “modernism” in his 2005 book, Jazz Age Catholicism:

Tournemire imagined the musical devices representing ‘passion’—chromaticism, polytonalism, and the perceived resulting ‘dissonance’—as the most appropriate material carriers of the ‘eternal’ and unchanging Latin forms. Images of dress abounded in ancient chants were imagined to be ‘clothed’ in ‘modern’ musical fashions.¹

The main Tournemire scholarship consists of a doctoral dissertation by Ruth Sisson, a picture book of photos by Ianco Pascal, and the notated catalogue of his works by Joël-Marie Fauquet from 1979.² Stephen Schloesser devotes a large part of Jazz Age Catholicism to the study of Tournemire. Lastly, Marie-Louise Langlais has published on the Internet portions of Tournemire’s Memoires that specifically address music (http://ml-langlais.com/Tournemire). The French journal L’Orgue is in the process of issuing the complete Tournemire Memoires. The editors of Mystic Modern had access to the complete version and quoted extensively from it in their essays, The Composer as Commentator: Music and Text in Tournemire’s Symbolist Method and How does Music Speak of God.

Charles Tournemire (1877–1939) died in the same year that I was born, and perhaps for this coincidence, I felt a special connection to this man. My first exposure to the “mystic modern” Tournemire was during the 1950s, in hearing my first organ teacher Paul Sifler play some of Tournemire’s music on several recitals. I remember the music sounded strange and exotic, like the music of Olivier Messiaen that Sifler played, which I, as a teenager, did not understand. It was later, as a pupil of Jean Langlais in Paris during the early 1960s, that I came to know Tournemire’s music in a different way. Langlais often played Tournemire’s music at Sainte-Clotilde on the organ that Tournemire knew and loved and often played the Eli, Eli, lamma sabacthani from the Sept Paroles of Tournemire. This blind teacher taught me the first movement and the last movement (Consummatum est) at Sainte-Clotilde during late Wednesday evenings in a dimly lit, empty church with the incomparable sounds of the Cavaillé-Coll organ. And he spoke about Tournemire as someone he knew well—little things about how he taught, how his personality was particularly quirky and unpredictable. He encouraged me to meet Tournemire’s second wife, Mme. Alice Tournemire, in her apartment—the apartment where her late husband had lived and taught. She read portions of his Memoires regarding the Symphonie-Choral, which I was planning to perform at Sainte-Clotilde. The more I played and heard Tournemire’s music, the more fascinated I became with it. His music was not instantly appealing; rather, it permeated my being slowly and compellingly.

 

Mystic Modern

The contents of Mystic Modern are divided into three sections, which develop the theme of Tournemire’s legacy as liturgical commentator, music inventor, and littéraire. In the preface, “Tournemire the Liturgical Commentator,” Donelson discusses Tournemire’s role as organist in the Roman Catholic Church and especially his place in the long line of composers incorporating Gregorian chant into both their composed works and their improvisations. 

 

The liturgical commentator

“The Organ as Liturgical Commentator—Some Thoughts, Magisterial and Otherwise” by Monsignor Andrew R. Wadsworth, begins with Wadsworth’s recollections of Messiaen’s improvisations during a Low Mass at La Trinité and then discusses the liturgical norms with an historical overview of the documents pertaining to them. He implores organists to follow Tournemire’s example in L’Orgue mystique: to improvise on the chants proper to each Sunday’s liturgy.

“Joseph Bonnet as a Catalyst in the Early-Twentieth-Century Gregorian Chant Revival,” by Susan Treacy, explains Bonnet’s decisive role in encouraging Tournemire to write L’Orgue mystique. Through explanations of Bonnet’s work as a liturgical organist in churches where he served, Treacy explains why Bonnet did not write any chant-based organ music. Although Bonnet was an abbot in the Benedictine order and was devoted to the propagation of Gregorian chant, he made a distinct difference between his published secular pieces for recital use and his improvised chant-based pieces for the liturgy. As a pupil of Charles Tournemire and fellow native of Bordeaux, Bonnet’s relationships with Dom Mocquereau and Justine Ward were also important in the founding of the Gregorian Institute. Even Bonnet’s church wedding, with a schola from the Gregorian Institute and with Tournemire as one of the organists, reflected his devotion to the propagation of Gregorian chant.

In “Tournemire’s L’Orgue mystique and its Place in the Legacy of the Organ Mass,” Edward Schaefer gives an exhaustive summary of the development of the organ Mass, its specific usage in various countries, and the ecclesiastical documents governing organ Masses. A number of charts give illustrations of the use of the organ at the various parts of the Mass. There is a long list of the ecclesiastical ceremonials governing the use of music in the Mass and a chronological list of organ settings of the Mass. Schaefer concludes that with the renewed interest and practice of the Extraordinary form of the Mass, the practical use of Tournemire’s L’Orgue mystique is possible. This was demonstrated during the first Tournemire symposium. Some of the material is based on Schaefer’s dissertation from Catholic University.³

“Liturgy and Gregorian Chant in L’Orgue mystique of Charles Tournemire,” by Robert Sutherland Lord, was originally published in 1984 in The Organ Yearbook, edited by Peter Williams. The seminal importance of this article lies in Lord’s identification of all the chants from L’Orgue mystique and their origin, Tournemire’s original plan for the composition of the work, and the ways in which the composer departed from his plan in the choice of chants. The chants from the Liber Antiphonarius (Solesmes, 1897) were the sources of most of the chants that Tournemire used for the Elevation. This volume of chant is out of print, but Lord obtained a copy from the former assistant organist at Notre Dame, Paris, Pierre Moreau. Lord includes copies of these chants in the article.

In “The Twentieth-Century Franco-Belgian Art of Improvisation: Marcel Dupré, Charles Tournemire, and Flor Peeters,” Ronald Prowse discusses differences in techniques between written compositions and improvisations in the works of Dupré, Tournemire, and Flor Peeters and cites musical examples from the chant Ave Maris Stella. Using works by those three composers, Prowse deftly compares the techniques that all three of them used in treating the same chant. He often cites his own experiences studying improvisation with Pierre Toucheque, who had been a pupil of Peeters. He often quotes Tournemire, from his book on improvisation, Précis d’exécution, de registration et d’improvisation à l’orgue, stating that a master improviser creates illusions.⁴ The issue of the difference between written composition and improvisation echoes throughout this collection of essays and remains in some ways an unanswered question.

 

The musical inventor

Prowse’s essay leads logically into the second section, “Tournemire the Musical Inventor,” which deals with Tournemire’s musical language, including his choice and sense of tempo—as well as his compositional process and impact, not merely on the Sainte-Clotilde school, but on modern French organ repertoire in general. 

In his essay “Performance Practice for the Organ Music of Charles Tournemire,” Timothy Tikker describes his lessons with Langlais and Langlais’s reports of his study with Tournemire. Tikker’s account matched what I had learned from Langlais, including the story of Langlais’s meeting with Tournemire and the invitation to become the latter’s successor at Sainte-Clotilde. The two works Tikker analyzes in detail regarding interpretation (No. 7 from L’Orgue mystique, Epiphania Domini, and Mulier, ecce filius tuus, Ecce Mater tua, from Sept Chorals-Poèmes, op. 67) were pieces that I also had studied with Langlais, and I agree with his conclusions. Tikker gives detailed graphs with measure numbers indicated and, in some places, metronome markings. Of particular interest in this essay is Tikker’s extensive discussion of the Sainte-Clotilde organ. Tournemire’s specific registrations in L’Orgue mystique include the use of sub couplers and the term petites mixtures, which indicates soft mutation stops such as gamba with a nazard. It is interesting to note that Tournemire played all of L’Orgue mystique on his nine-stop house organ, regrettably never at Sainte-Clotilde. Tikker quotes this specification from Tournemire’s Précis. One of Tikker’s particularly insightful points is his comparison of German Romantic organs and their influence on the compositions of Reger and Karg-Elert, which used the full organ in the lower registers, and Tournemire’s use of full organ that was based on the “treble-ascendant voicing for its success.”⁵

“Catalogue of Charles Tournemire’s ‘Brouillon’ [Rough Sketches] for L’Orgue mystique BNF, Mus., Ms. 19929,” by Robert Sutherland Lord, is the result of Lord’s studying the 1,282 pages of rough sketches of Tournemire’s L’Orgue mystique found in the Bibliothèque Nationale after Lord had written an extensive article on this seminal work of Tournemire. From these sketches Lord was able to determine the exact date of each office and how Tournemire departed from his original plan. Lord’s conclusion stated: 

 

After having completed the manuscript catalogue, we can verify that the “Rough Sketches” document—in sharp contrast to the “Plan” considered in my 1984 study—is far more than a mere framework for L’Orgue mystique. The “Rough Sketches” provide the harmonies, the rhythms, and the paraphrases for forty-two of the fifty-one offices. The BNF Ms. 19929 remains the only evidence we have of Tournemire’s musical preparation for any organ work he composed.⁶

From the harmonic and rhythmic details of Tournemire’s plan for L’Orgue mystique, Bogusław Raba’s article, “Creating a Mystical Musical Eschatology: Diatonic and Chromatic Dialectic in Charles Tournemire’s L’Orgue mystique” continues the discussion of the conflict between the diatonic and chromatic dialectic in Tournemire’s L’Orgue mystique. Raba uses the term dialectic as follows: 

 

Tournemire’s musical poetics in L’Orgue mystique are constructed by means of a dialectical process of diatonic and chromatic textures. This procedure (along with its symbolic functions) seems to be inherited from the Romantic Liszt-Franck tradition and is used in the service of a large narrative formal structure.⁷

Raba equates diatonicism with “eternal peace” and chromaticism with emotional “passion.” For Raba, the melding of these two elements creates pandiatonic textures, which he believes are Tournemire’s legacy to Messiaen. Finally, Raba confesses that Tournemire’s style goes beyond any structural system, and he calls this a “mystical musical eschatology.” Raba makes interesting parallels between Tournemire’s use of dissonance and that of Scriabin and earlier composers such as Frescobaldi in the Elevations from his organ Masses.

Raba’s observations on dissonance from the numinous leads into the next essay, “From the ‘Triomphe de l’Art Modal’ to The Embrace of Fire: Charles Tournemire’s Gregorian Chant Legacy, Received and Refracted by Naji Hakim” by Crista Miller. Miller’s article locates Middle Eastern elements and Arabic improvisation (taqasim) present in Hakim’s organ works with common elements with Tournemire’s Sitio (I thirst) from the Sept Paroles and Hakim’s Embrace of Fire. Miller compares these techniques with Langlais’s Soleil du Soir. She also probes the creative process of these composers. Were they aware of the techniques that they were using? In interviews with Hakim, she explains that Hakim claimed that his process was “subconscious”—in other words, he was not consciously aware that he was using a particular technique, so much was it a part of his psyche.

I had also asked this question regarding synthetic and octatonic scales with both Langlais and Daniel Lesur, both of whom reported that they were unaware that they were using these scales. The question of awareness is one that pervades our study of these composers’ works and is especially relevant to their improvisations. Miller also examines the specialized use of the Vox humana in works by Tournemire, Langlais, and Hakim.

Miller and Vincent E. Rone both discuss the use of octatonic and synthetic scales in their complementary writings. Rone’s essay “From Tournemire to Vatican II: Harmonic Symmetry as Twentieth-Century French Catholic Musical Mysticism, 1928–1970” focuses on the means by which Tournemire, Duruflé, and Langlais expressed Catholic musical mysticism and, in the case of the two younger composers, the ways in which they did so in response to their frustrations during the period of the Vatican II council. Rone concentrates on the use of octatonic and whole-tone scale patterns in the three composers’ music; he uses examples from the final pieces in Tournemire’s Nativitas and Resurrectionis offices. As examples of post-Vatican II disillusionment, Rone cites Duruflé’s Messe ‘Cum Jubilo’ and Langlais’s Imploration pour la croyance, referring to the former as privileging the Ordinary’s “transcendent and eschatological imagery through harmonic symmetry and stasis, combining a synthetic scale with subtle linear unfolding of two whole-tone collections, third-related, and bitonal harmonies.”⁸ In the latter, however, the expression is pure anger. Rone refers to Ruth Sisson’s dissertation and the discussion of the “Tournemire chord,” which employs a C#-major triad with a G-major 6/3 chord over it. The musical examples are particularly helpful to the reader in understanding these compositional and aesthetic concepts. 

 

The littОraire

The final section, “Tournemire the Littéraire,” deals with the literary aspect of Tournemire’s music and dwells on the relationship of the symbolic character of Tourmemire’s musical “commentaries” (and the legacy of this role in Messiaen’s oeuvre). It also includes Charles Tournemire’s obtuse and convoluted language in his biography of Franck. Finally, it analyzes Tournemire and Messiaen’s shared inspiration, drawn from Ernest Hello’s writings and Tournemire’s eschatological reading of history. The editors took great care with the ordering of the essays to provide cohesion to the book, and the end of each essay includes a summary. 

Stephen Schloesser’s first essay, “The Composer as Commentator: Music and Text in Tournemire’s Symbolist Method,” shows the importance of the texts in Dom Guéranger’s L’Année liturgique to Tournemire. So what then is this symbolist method? Schloesser describes it simply as “ . . . an essential relationship between a work and the literary text upon which it is based.”⁹ And he further states: 

 

For the symbolists, realism, naturalism, and positivism evacuated human existence of any mystery, fantasy, imagination, or dream world. In opposition to the positivists’ exclusive privileging of the visible, Symbolists gave pride of place to the invisible.¹⁰

 

As has been stated, Schloesser’s research on Tournemire was first published in Jazz Age Catholicism (2005). As a historian with appealing linguistic, writing, and musical skills, Schloesser has a gift of getting behind the events he is describing and going to the heart of their meaning. Here Schloesser shows how the literary texts in Guéranger’s L’Année liturgique directly inspired L’Orgue mystique. Schloesser hand-copied one example from Guéranger’s work—the Introit for the Feast of the Assumption—to demonstrate this important link between the text and the music. (It is possible to study the entire Guéranger work hand in hand with L’Orgue mystique and easily follow the plan for the entire work.) The important point is that the music is a commentary or a paraphrase of the linguistic text. All the tone painting and symbols that Tournemire uses are related to the texts, and it is important to study the texts first. Lest there be any confusion, Schloesser quotes Tournemire’s preface, which clearly states: “ . . . plainchant is, in sum, freely paraphrased for each piece in the flow of the works forming this collection.”¹¹ 

Schloesser then contrasts Messiaen’s straightforward use of textual references in all his organ works and explains how Messiaen was indebted to Tournemire for this example. Schloesser subsequently refers to numerous recital programs of Tournemire in which the term paraphrase is used in the program. The notion of symbolism, for Schloesser, comes from Tournemire’s models, Claude Debussy and Richard Wagner. Evidence of Tournemire’s deep involvement in the symbolist movement is carefully presented in the next six pages. Schloesser documents examples of Tournemire’s extensive use of the Wagnerian style of leitmotif, with the chant Ego Dormivi, the antiphon from Holy Saturday based on Psalm 3, used in ten of the L’Orgue mystique offices. Schloesser goes beyond what others have previously explained regarding Tournemire’s use of this leitmotif, relating the composer’s decision both to personal and professional circumstances. Schloesser refers to other music programs and cites the texts that Tournemire used to plan those programs. Particularly moving is the intent behind his concert at the church of Saint-Vincent-de-Paul in 1932, which opened with a tribute to Leon Boëllmann, the deceased organist of the church. The program is a good example of Tournemire’s manner of presenting an organ recital; it included three selections from L’Orgue mystique with explanations of the importance of the texts behind them. Tournemire’s choice of works by other composers showed his sense of his place in history alongside Bonnet, a musicologist (Bonnet was editor of the multi-volume set of Historical Organ-Recitals), a symbolist, and a truly modern composer. Also touching was Schloesser’s description of the reasons for Tournemire’s choice of themes for the last office of this great work and his four-year struggle to complete it. It is clear in studying Schloesser’s excellent essay that any serious student of L’Orgue mystique must become intimately acquainted with Guéranger’s 15-volume pivotal work, which is available in several English translations.

Again, acknowledging the superb manner in which this book is organized, it is appropriate that Elizabeth McLain’s Messiaen-oriented essay “Messiaen’s L’Ascension: Musical Illumination of Spiritual Texts After the Model of Tournemire’s L’Orgue mystique” follows that of Schloesser, whose discussion of Messiaen’s early life and influences in Visions of Amen is also covered in this review. McLain’s main point is that Tournemire’s use of commentaries on sacred texts in his compositions profoundly influenced Messiaen, but that unlike Tournemire, Messiaen’s quest was to take music inspired by sacred texts out of the church and into the concert hall. McLain’s essay explains that this early opus of Messiaen had its birth as an orchestral work, premiered in Paris before he had arranged it for organ. McLain gives many musical examples from the orchestral version of the work and clear structural and harmonic analyses of the entire work.

“Desperately Seeking Franck: Tournemire and D’Indy as Biographers” by R. J. Stove is the shortest of all the essays, but it is a fascinating comparison between Tournemire and D’Indy’s biographies of Franck. Anyone who has read any of Tournemire’s own writings can certainly agree with Stove’s description of Tournemire’s writing style as an “exotic jungle.” And further, “His high-flown French is a burden to imitate in any other language, let alone a language which lays as much stress on understatement, irony, and clarity as modern English usually does.”¹² Stove’s critical assessment of the two biographers, themselves students of Franck, explains much about the differences in their personalities and a possible jealousy on the part of Tournemire toward D’Indy, on account of the differences in the successes of their respective careers and their relationship to Franck. D’Indy had known Franck for two decades, while Tournemire had known him for only two years.

In her essay, “How Does Music Speak of God? A Dialogue of Ideas between Messiaen, Tournemire, and Hello,” Jennifer Donelson compares in great depth the approaches to addressing God through music in the writings of Tournemire, Messiaen, and the mystic writer from Brittany, Ernest Hello (1828–1885). She explains how the writings of Hello, particularly his 1872 work L’Homme: La Vie—La Science—L’Art, “encapsulates an understanding that was friendly to the Symbolist and anti-positivist tendencies of both composers.”¹³ Hello’s influences on Tournemire are found in Tournemire’s writings, particularly in his unpublished memoirs and correspondence between the two composers. Donelson explains with great care the differences in philosophy between Messiaen, seeking a perfect expression of the Catholic faith, and that of Tournemire. In conclusion she sums up the answer to the title of her essay in quoting Hello:

In a “clear vision of the role of the Catholic faith in art and culture, Hello saw spiritual realities as more real than material (indeed, as their source) and concluded that, for art to be truly beautiful or ‘sincere,’ the artist must have a clear vision of the world as redeemed by God with the Incarnate Christ at the center of God’s plan for salvation.”¹⁴

Peter Bannister’s essay, “Charles Tournemire and the ‘Bureau of Eschatology’” explains the meaning of eschatology in the historical context of the first half of the twentieth century in France. Bannister quotes frequently from the 20th-century Swiss Catholic theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar. The author’s reference to “Bureau of Eschatology” refers to Balthasar’s quote from Troeltsch’s dictum, “The bureau of eschatology is usually closed,” explaining that “this was true enough of the liberalism of the nineteenth century, but since the turn of the century the office has been working overtime.”¹⁵ Bannister explains the notion of life as a progression from darkness to light, often quoting from Léon Bloy, the French agnostic who converted to a strict form of Roman Catholicism, and Tournemire’s unpublished memoirs, and symphonies. Bannister laments the paucity of writings about Tournemire, citing the lack of primary source material. Bannister does not mention that this problem will soon be rectified; a forthcoming issue of the French review L’Orgue will be devoted to the difficult and highly secretive diary of Tournemire, Memoires.

I, for one, am not as pessimistic as Bannister when he states: “The likelihood is that for years to come, Tournemire will sadly continue to be regarded as an obscure figure outside the (dwindling) organ world . . . ”¹⁶ The two Tournemire conferences and these essays belie his conclusion. Consider that such composers as Bach, Mendelssohn, Rheinberger, and Langlais were less appreciated during their lifetimes than after their deaths, and certainly today they are not considered as “obscure figures.” 

Tennille Shuster’s cover, a surrealistic picture of the front of the Basilica of Sainte-Clotilde with dramatic reddish-brown clouds in the background, reflects the book’s mystical nature. The typeface and illustrations are exquisitely reproduced. 

Drs. Donelson and Schloesser are to be commended on the physical beauty of the book and the depth of scholarship that the book represents.

 

Visions of Amen

Messiaen’s Visions de l’Amen is an esoteric, extremely difficult seven-movement work for two pianists at two separate pianos, and its difficulty lies both in its technical demands (requiring extremes in dynamic range and tessitura) and in its obscure symbolism (which deals with astrology, theology, angels, saints, and birds). In the biographical aspect of this latest book on the early life of Messiaen, Stephen Schloesser develops the themes surrounding the composer’s connections with the mystic Charles Tournemire. 

The driving force behind the book came from Schloesser’s collaboration with pianists Hyesook Kim (Calvin College) and Stéphane Lemelin (University of Ottawa), with whom Schloesser received a $5,000 grant from the Calvin Center for Christian Scholarship for a project entitled “Olivier Messiaen’s Religious Perspective and Performance of Visions of l’Amen.” In 2004–2005 the two pianists performed the work at a number of locations in the U.S. and Canada, with Schloesser giving lecture notes on the work and Messiaen’s life. Their original plan was to produce a compact disc with liner notes written by Schloesser. The Messiaen centennial in 2008, however, yielded a plethora of new material for Schloesser, and the project subsequently grew into the present book format, with a link to the audio recording on the Internet. A detailed analysis of the work with timings from the recording makes it possible to follow the work without the score.

The title of the book leads one to believe that Schloesser focuses on the early life and music of this composer. But the extent and depth of the material goes far beyond a discussion of Messiaen’s early years. Schloesser examines Messiaen’s entire life, giving explanations of literary, symbolist, surrealist, mystical, and theological forces that inspired his compositions. In many of Messiaen’s biographies and his own writings, the writers Paul Éluard, Dom Columba Marmion, and Ernest Hello are mentioned, but Schloesser goes farther with extensive quotations from these authors, showing their influence on Messiaen’s music. For example, in the discussion of Messiaen’s Nativity of the Lord (1935), Messiaen frequently quotes Marmion’s book Christ in His Mysteries:

 

But the main reason for keeping alive such feelings within us is our status as children of God. The Divine Sonship of the Father’s only-begotten is of the essence and eternal. But, in an infinitely free act of love, the Father has willed to add a sonship, a childship, of grace.¹⁷ 

Schloesser divides the book into four sections. The first, dealing with Messiaen’s parents, Pierre Messiaen and Cécile Sauvage, covers 1883–1930. This section can be read by itself without reference to Messiaen’s compositions as an introduction to the psychological underpinnings of his personality. Part two, “Budding Rhythmician, Surrealist Composer, Mystical Commentator: 1927–1932,” continues this psychological approach and discusses in some detail his earliest works. The third part, “Theological Order, Glorified Bodies, Apocalyptic Epoch, 1932–1943,” delves into a detailed description and analysis of Visions of Amen. For musicians, a study of Messiaen’s score is helpful, but even without the score, Schloesser gives a detailed analysis of each movement, with timings from the recording in an appendix. Part four, “Legacy, 1943–1992,” includes a discussion of Messiaen’s last work: Et Exspecto Resurrectionem Mortuorum. Throughout the book, Schloesser’s use of extensive footnotes on the same page as the text is helpful. The appendix of scriptural references is logical and welcomed.

The recording by pianists Kim and Lemelin is of high quality, with a wide range of dynamics and tessituras. This is a work that Messiaen and his second wife Yvonne Loriod played together frequently, and it is dedicated to her. Much of Messiaen’s piano music is extremely difficult technically and demands the utmost in coordination between the two performers here on two pianos. One could wish that a compact disc had been included with the book, so that one could listen to the performance without using a computer.

But even if the reader has no interest in this difficult piano work, composed during the darkest period of World War II when Paris was occupied by the Nazis, there is more than enough material about Messiaen’s personal life and that of his parents to engage the reader. It is well known that Messiaen’s mother was a poetesse; the drama of her life and the struggles she endured with her husband Pierre is explained in great detail. In the introduction, Schloesser explains his approach as a “history of emotion.” In this age of a “confessional” approach to biography, it is impressive how Schloesser combines very personal material with scholarly writing.

Visions of Amen can be read on two levels: first, theological—the birth of creation, the passion of Christ, angels, saints, birdsong, judgment; and second, as a personal statement of Messiaen’s love for Yvonne Loriod. In general, “Amen” signifies “So be it,” but for Messiaen and other French composers, it was also a code name for an expression of love. This code reference using his second mode of limited transposition is also found frequently in Messiaen’s Turangalila Symphony and throughout Messiaen’s oeuvre. 

 

Notes

1. Stephen Schloesser, Jazz Age Catholicism: Mystic Modernism in Postwar Paris, 1919–1933 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2005), 281.

2. Ruth Sisson, “The Symphonic Organ Works of Charles Arnould Tournemire” (Ph.D. dissertation, Florida State University, 1984). Ianco Pascal, Charles Tournemire ou le mythe de Tristan (Geneva, Editions Papillon, 2001). Pascal knew Madame Odile Weber, the niece of Tournemire’s second wife Alice Tournemire, who shared many of her photographs with him. Joël Marie Fauquet, Catalogue de l’œuvre de Charles Tournemire (Geneva, Minkoff, 1979).

3. Edward Schaefer, “The Relationship Between the Liturgy of the Roman Rite and the Italian Organ Literature of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries” (Ph.D. dissertation, Catholic University of America, 1985).

4. Charles Tournemire, Précis d’exécution, de registration et d’improvisation à l’orgue (Paris, LeMoine, 1936).

5. Tikker, in Mystic Modern: The Music, Thought and Legacy of Charles Tournemire, edited by Jennifer Donelson and Stephen Schloesser (Church Music Association of America, 2014), 131. 

6. Lord, in Mystic Modern, 137.

7. Raba, in Mystic Modern, 186.

8. Rone, in Mystic Modern, 230.

9. Schloesser, in Mystic Modern, 266.

10. Ibid., 267.

11. Ibid., 257.

12. Stove, in Mystic Modern, 312.

13. Donelson, in Mystic Modern, 317.

14. Ibid., 318.

15. Hans Urs von Balthasar, “Some Points of Eschatology” in Explorations in Theology, Vol. I: The Word Made Flesh (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1964), p. 255, translated by Bannister. 

16. Bannister, in Mystic Modern, p. 352.

17. Stephen Schloesser, Visions of Amen: The Early Life and Music of Olivier Messiaen (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2014), p. 230.

 

Ann Labounsky earned a Ph.D. in musicology from the University of Pittsburgh, an M.Mus. from the University of Michigan studying with Marilyn Mason, and a B.Mus. from the Eastman School of Music, studying with David Craighead. She studied in Paris with André Marchal and Jean Langlais on a Fulbright Grant and holds diplomas from the Schola Cantorum and Ecole Normale. Author of the biography Jean Langlais: the Man and His Music (Amadeus Press, 2000), she recorded the complete organ works of Jean Langlais for the Musical Heritage Society (reissued on the Voix du Vent label) and narrated and performed in a DVD of his life based on this biography, a project sponsored by the Los Angeles AGO Chapter. Labounsky is chair of organ and sacred music at Duquesne University, active in the American Guild of Organists, the National Pastoral Musicians, and the Church Music Association of America, and serves as organ artist in residence at First Lutheran Church, Pittsburgh. 

Marijim Thoene, Lisa Byers

Marijim Thoene received a D.M.A. in Organ Performance/Church Music from the University of Michigan in 1984. She is an active recitalist and director of music at St. John Lutheran Church in Dundee, Michigan. Her two CDs, Mystics and Spirits and Wind Song are available through Raven Recordings. She is a frequent presenter at medieval conferences on the topic of the image of the pipe organ in medieval manuscripts. Lisa Byers received master’s degrees in music education and organ performance from the University of Michigan, and a J.D. from the University of Toledo, Ohio. She is retired from teaching music in the Jefferson Public Schools in Monroe, Michigan, as well as from her position as organist/choir director at St. Peter’s Episcopal Church in Tecumseh, Michigan. She currently subs as organist in the Monroe area.

This year’s gathering marked the fiftieth anniversary of the University of Michigan Conference on Organ Music, directed by its creator, Marilyn Mason. Organists from France, Germany, Poland, and the U.S. performed on the Aeolian-Skinner on the stage of Hill Auditorium. The shimmering golden pipes of this organ made this year’s theme especially appropriate: “Pure Gold: Music of Poland, France and Germany.” The conference was dedicated to the memories of Erven Thoma, a Michigan DMA graduate in church music, and William Steinhoff, Professor Emeritus of English at U-M and husband of Marilyn Mason.

Sunday, October 3
Frédéric Blanc, 43-year-old native of Angoulême, opened the conference with a program of all-French music. He introduced his program by saying that Fauré, Ravel, and Debussy are never far away in nineteenth and twentieth-century French organ music. Their influence was undeniable in the works Blanc performed, a mix of well-known and loved repertoire—Franck, Choral in A Minor and Cantabile; Vierne, Carillon de Westminster and Méditation Improvisée (reconstructed by Duruflé), repertoire that is occasionally heard—Prelude in E-flat Minor (from Suite, op. 5) by Duruflé and Allegro (from Symphony VI) by Widor, and repertoire that is rarely heard—Introduction et Aria by Jean-Jacques Gruenwald, Toccata (from Le Tombeau de Titelouze, on Placare Christe Servulis) by Dupré, and Prelude (from the suite Pélleas et Mélisande) by Debussy, transcribed by Duruflé.
Blanc’s technique is formidable and his choice of registration was both poetic and daring; however, his playing became more impassioned and inspired in his improvisation—a Triptych Symphony based on three submitted themes: Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring, Hail to the Chief, and Somewhere Over the Rainbow. His imagination and creativity were dazzling as he altered rhythms and keys of the submitted themes, seamlessly moved from dark and somber to warm and brilliant colors, from pensive to ebullient moods, and ending with a bombastic pedal toccata. He delighted in making the instrument hum, growl, and break forth in glorious trumpeting.

Monday, October 4
On Monday afternoon Frederic Blanc gave a lecture entitled “A Mind’s Eye.” He spoke informally of how his life as a musician has been shaped and influenced by unique circumstances, his teachers, and his views on improvisation. While he was a student at the Bordeaux Conservatory, Xavier Durasse heard him play and persuaded him to come to Toulouse, where he was then asked to be organist at St. Sernin. There he had all his nights to play the organ, and there he met Jean-Louis Florentz, André Fleury, and Madame Duruflé. When she heard him improvise, she said, “I will take you to Paris and I will make you work very hard.” He told how he was not prepared to play Dupré’s Variations on a Noël, one of the required pieces for the Chartres competition, and she told him he had to be able to play it from memory in fifteen days or she would never see him again. She was delighted when he came back in fifteen days and played it from memory. Blanc said that the most important thing he learned from her was that “each piece has its own way to be played, you must express yourself, your sensitivity must flow through the music.”
Blanc’s candid answers to questions about his own improvisation left me feeling that here is a man whose life is charmed, who is fully conscious of the rare gift he has been given, and is fully committed to nurturing it. When asked who taught him how to improvise, he answered: “I wasn’t. I listened to Madame Duruflé, Pierre Cochereau, Jean Langlais, and to recordings of Tournemire. Nobody can give you the gift. If you are not given the gift you will never be able to improvise a symphony . . . I heard Cochereau at Notre Dame and it was like magic, like being pierced by a sword, raised to heaven. He was at one with the organ.”
When asked about the state of organ building in France today, Blanc lamented that there are no organs in concert halls, and the organist cannot be seen in the lofts in churches. He commented that Cavaillé-Coll was a builder who turned toward the future and restored his own organs for new music, especially those organs in Notre Dame and Sacré Coeur.
Blanc’s final dictum concerning how to play French organ music: “After historicism, it must be the music and what you have inside.”
Charles Echols, Professor Emeritus of St. Cloud State University, lectured on “Observations on American Organ Music 1900–1950,” covering a large variety of topics: the movement of American composers to create “American” music; changes in musical style and organ building between 1930–1950; approaches to researching organ music by American composers; and an introduction to the organ music of René Louis Becker, whose scores have been given to the University of Michigan by his family, who were present at the lecture.
On Monday evening Martin Bambauer, 40-year-old organist and choirmaster at the Konstantin Basilika in Trier, played Dupré’s Poème héroïque, op. 33; Tournemire’s Triple Choral, op. 41; Liszt’s Eglogue (from Années de Pèlerinage), transcribed for organ by Bambauer; Karg-Elert’s Partita Retrospettiva, op. 151; Iain Farrington’s Fiesta!, plus his own improvisation. He played with great precision and refinement. His performance of Tournemire’s Triple Choral, op. 41 was an Ann Arbor premiere. Farrington’s four-movement work, Fiesta!, was a bit of fresh air, conjuring up all sorts of secular venues, from a stripper’s stage to a cocktail lounge.

Tuesday, October 5
On Tuesday, Martin Bambauer began his lecture, “Tournemire’s Triple Choral,” by saying that it was Tournemire’s first major organ work, and he had learned it in a week (!) and played it for the fourth time in public yesterday, and that it was not a very popular piece. Truly, I would have thought he had been playing the piece for years. This early work of Tournemire is introspective and cerebral, and at the same time hints at the other-worldliness that would characterize his later work. Bambauer mentioned that in 1896 the Liber Usualis became Tournemire’s constant companion, and when he became Franck’s successor at the Basilica of St. Clotilde in 1898 he only improvised on chant in the services. He thought sacred music was the only music worthy of the name, and when Langlais questioned him, asking what about the music of Debussy, Ravel, and Stravinsky, he said it didn’t matter! Bambauer recommended listening to Tournemire’s eight symphonies, among them Search for the Holy Grail and Apocalypse of St. John. Tournemire was drawn to the mysterious and supernatural, apparent not only in his music, but in his biography of Franck in 1931, and the naming of his two cottages “Tristan” and “Isolde”—his Opus 53 bears those names.
Bambauer pointed out that Tournemire was recognized as a great improviser, and Vierne described him as being “impulsive, enthusiastic, erratic, and a born improviser.” Tournemire’s Five Improvisations, recorded in 1930 at St. Clotilde and transcribed by his student, Duruflé, are his most popular works. His L’Orgue Mystique, fifty-one liturgical sets of five pieces each, was composed between 1927–1932 and is the Catholic counterpart to Bach’s Orgelbüchlein. Bambauer explained that the first edition of L’Orgue Mystique was dedicated to César Franck and states in the preface that the performer is free to choose the registration; however, in the second edition Duruflé includes registration and manual changes.
Bambauer’s insightful analysis of Tournemire’s Triple Choral not only focused on his compositional techniques—use of imitation, paraphrase, and inversion—but how and when Tournemire used the same harmonic vocabulary as Franck. Bambauer illustrated the meticulous craftsmanship in this early work of Tournemire based on his newly created chorals entitled “The Father,” “The Son,” and “The Holy Spirit,” and discussed how the prose with which Tournemire prefaced each choral was mirrored in the music. Tournemire’s prose offers a poignant testimony of his profound faith and allows the listener to participate in Tournemire’s personal vision.
Bambauer commented that the highlight of the piece occurs at the end as the three chorals softly merge together. Bambauer treated us to another performance of Tournemire’s Triple Choral and “the knowing made all the difference.”
Tuesday evening James Kibbie, Professor of Organ at U-M, presented a stunning memorized recital. He has a special affinity for the music of Marcel Dupré, Jehan Alain, Dan Locklair, and Jirí Ropek. He played Dupré’s Prelude and Fugue in B Major, op. 7, no. 1, with conviction and assurance. The pleasure of hearing Alain’s rarely played Two Preludes was heightened by being able to read the texts that accompany them. Kibbie’s sensitive interpretation made the images of the text take on a life of their own.
Dan Locklair’s Voyage was another kind of tone poem, providing a journey to fantasy lands filled with sounds of the ebb and flow of tides, jazz, bird song, chimes, and billowing waves evoked by hand glissandi. Kibbie managed to weave together these disparate elements into a fabulous and entertaining voyage.
It was a pleasure to hear Kibbie speak of his meeting Jirí Ropek when he won the Prague Organ Competition in 1979 and of his continuing friendship with this celebrated organist/composer who suffered greatly during the Communist oppression. Kibbie related conversations he had had with Ropek that offered insight into his music. Of the three Ropek pieces on the program, Kibbie said that the Toccata and Fugue (dedicated to Kibbie) was the most complex and dissonant, and mirrored in the work is Ropek’s philosophy: “Life is not only one melody, but many and dissonances, but in general I’m quite melodious. No frightening the audience.” To hear this account made Ropek’s Toccata and Fugue, filled with haunting and aggressive motives, a kind of musical autobiography. Kibbie also explained the compositional process of Ropek’s Fantasy on Mozart’s Theme. In 1775 Mozart improvised a work in a monastery, and only the first 57 measures were written down. Ropek was asked to play it and he added a cadenza. He worked on it over the years and finally he attached his own music to Mozart’s original piece. It was one of the last things he wrote before he died and is dedicated to the students of James Kibbie at the University of Michigan. It was published in 2009.
Kibbie mentioned that he had just played Ropek’s Variations on “Victimae Paschali Laudes” in Prague the week before and made a recording for the radio at the Basilica of St. James where Ropek was organist for 35 years. This beautiful work has become a signature piece for Kibbie.

Wednesday, October 6
Five recitals were performed on Wednesday, an intense day of listening.
The first recital of the day was played by Andrew Lang on the Létourneau organ in the School of Public Health. Lang is a student of James Kibbie and commutes from Chapel Hill, North Carolina. His program was well suited for the room and instrument: “The Primitives” and “Those Americans” (from Five Dances for Organ) by Calvin Hampton; Dies sind die heiligen zehen Gebot, BWV 678, Fughetta super Dies sind die heiligen zehen Gebot, BWV 679, and Prelude and Fugue in B Minor, BWV 544, by Bach. Lang played with verve and energy; the contrapuntal lines were electric with clarity and precision.
The day’s second recital was played at Hill Auditorium by Józef Kotowicz, who received his doctoral degree in 2001 from the Music Academy in Warsaw. He is active, playing recitals in music festivals throughout Europe, producing a radio program devoted to organs of northeast Poland, recording on the organ in the Cathedral Basilica (Bialystok), and teaching and serving as organist at St. Adalbertus Church. Two of the most interesting pieces of his ambitious program were works by Mieczyslaw Surzynski (1886–1924), Improvisation on the Polish Sacred Song “Swiety Boze,” and Stefan Lindblad (b. 1958), Espanordica. Kotowicz explained to me that “Swiety Boze” is a very popular hymn in Poland and is sung often during funeral services. A translation of the first line reads: “Holy God, Holy [and] Mighty, Holy [and] Immortal, have mercy on us.” The hymn has inspired many composers.
After hearing the performance of Surzynski’s Improvisation, it is easily understood why he is the most revered Polish composer of organ music. The work began with a statement of the hymn, and six dramatic variations followed, with variations one and five being the most riveting. In variation one, thundering chords are played in the manuals while the cantus firmus is heard in the pedals. In variation five, a fiery toccata is in the manuals while the cantus firmus thunders in the pedals.
Kotowicz’s performance of Lindblad’s Espanordica was electrifying. Each of the three movements—Rhapsodia, Nocturno, and Litanies—is built on Spanish dance motifs. Kotowicz told me that Stefan Lindblad lives in Göteborg, Sweden. Lindblad has composed two large works for organ, Hommages and Espanordica, which Kotowicz has performed in Ann Arbor. Both of these pieces have never been printed and he is the only Polish organist who has the scores. He also commented, “It’s interesting that Lindblad is almost completely unknown in Sweden, so I feel like his promoter. I know him personally because I often play in Sweden.”
In honor of Chopin’s 200th birth year, Arthur Greene, Professor of Piano at U-M, performed an all-Chopin recital. It was truly a gift to hear such great artistry.
His program provided a rich and tantalizing view of Chopin’s brilliant oeuvre. Greene drew sounds out of the piano like a magician—singing, soaring, langorous melodies, and thunderous, tumultuous chords. Greene is a master in knowing how to use his body in eliciting such sounds, and in controlling the exact timing of each key and creating suspense through poignant pauses. The audience was captivated by the huge gamut of emotions, from laughter to dark despair, that were portrayed in Greene’s memorized recital. In his hands each piece became a sort of microcosm of its own, glowing with its own unique beauty. His program included three short Mazurkas (op. 67, no. 3; op. 24, no. 3; op. 24, no. 4), the well-known Nocturne in E-flat Major, op. 9, no. 2, Écossaise, op. 72, and four Ballades (op. 23, op. 38, op. 47, and op. 52).
The 4 o’clock recital featured graduate students of James Kibbie and Marilyn Mason. Each performer played with such artistry, conviction, and joy. Their discipline and dedication to their art was obvious. Those performing from Kibbie’s studio included Joseph Balistreri (In Organ, Chordis et Choro by Naji Hakim); Susan De Kam (Partita sopra “Nun freut euch” by Lionel Rogg), and Richard Newman (Final from Symphony No. 5, op. 47, by Louis Vierne). Mason’s students included Timothy Tikker (Pièce Héroïque by César Franck) and Louis Canter (Adagio, Fugue from The 94th Psalm by Julius Reubke).
The final concert of the conference was played by Charles Echols. His entire program was devoted to the music of René Louis Becker (1882–1956). In his notes, Professor Echols described Becker’s career as a musician in the Midwest, and commented that among the many churches Becker served as organist were Blessed Sacrament Cathedral in Detroit and St. Alphonsus Church in Dearborn, Michigan. Echols also indicated those pieces that have been published and those that are in manuscript form. Echols’s playing was flawless, and he is to be thanked for advancing this composer’s work, which recalls the music of Mendelssohn.
Professor Marilyn Mason has been responsible for the organ conference at the University of Michigan, a “happening” in Ann Arbor for 50 years. When I asked her what inspired her to begin this incredible conference she told me: “I began the conference for our students; my then manager, Lillian Murtagh, urged me to sponsor Anton Heiller, who had never played in Ann Arbor. Further, I realized since the students could not have a European experience there, we could provide it for them here: especially to hear organists who had not played in Ann Arbor. Some firsts in Ann Arbor were the Duruflés, Mlle Alain, Anton Heiller, and many more. This contact also provided a window of opportunity for the students, many of whom went on to study with the Europeans after having met them here.” This gathering together of world-class performers and teachers continues to nurture and inspire. We are indebted to Marilyn Mason for literally bringing the world to us.

•

These articles represent the ten sessions that I reviewed (each session is designated by roman numerals I–X).
I. Sunday, October 3, 4 pm, A Grand Night for Singing, Hill Auditorium
This inaugural event was a multi-choir extravaganza led by conductor and artistic director Professor Jerry Blackstone. He was assisted by other U of M faculty conductors, vocalists and instrumentalists. Six U of M student auditioned groups participated, with approximately 650 students. Composers ranged from Monteverdi to Sondheim, fourteen in all, and many various ensembles, representing a variety of musical genres. Each of the sixteen presentations, including choirs, solos, opera, theater, and musicals, was greatly appreciated by the audience, which rendered a standing ovation.

II. Monday, October 4, 10:30 am, dissertation recital by Jason Branham, at Moore Hall, the School of Music, on the Marilyn Mason Organ built by Fisk
Branham’s recital featured Buxtehude’s Praeludium in E Major, BuxWV 141, Bach’s Liebster Jesu, wir sind heir, BWV 731, and Trio Sonata No. 5 in C Major, BWV 529, Clerambault’s Suite du deuxième ton, and Mendelssohn’s Sonata No. 4 in B-flat Major, op. 65. Branham performed with an understanding of musical forms, in a sensitive and confident manner. The variety of works presented allowed him to demonstrate well many registration possibilities of this unique instrument. This performance was acknowledged with great applause.

III. Monday, October 4, 4 pm, dissertation recital by Christopher Reynolds at Hill Auditorium
Cantabile by Franck, Passion, op. 145, No. 4 by Reger, Prelude on Picardy by Near, Meditation on Sacramentum Unitatis by Sowerby, Elegy in B-flat by Thalben-Ball, Praeludium in g, BuxWV 149 by Buxtehude, from Zehn Charakteristische Tonstücke, op. 86, Prologus tragicus by Karg-Elert, and Concert Variations on The Star-Spangled Banner, op. 23 by Buck. Reynolds appropriately approached and performed well the pieces that required a reflective and meditative interpretation. His registrations, musical sensitivity, and facility made his selections interesting for the listeners who aptly responded with approval.

IV. Tuesday, October 5, 9:30 am, Organs of France
IX. Wednesday, October 6, 9:30 am, Organs of Bach Country
X. Wednesday, October 6, 10:30 am, Organs of the Austro-Hungarian Empire
Janice and Bela Feher presented three narrated photographic summaries of the European pipe organs visited and played on University of Michigan Historic Organ Tours, 2005–2009.
Organs of France were viewed via a PowerPoint presentation of pipe organs from various regions of France. The Fehers showed examples of French Baroque, Classic, Romantic, and Symphonic organs, and they highlighted sites and instruments associated with important organists and composers. Instruments included organs built by Dom Bedos, François-Henry, Louis-Alexandre, and Robert Clicquot; Jean-Pierre Cavaillé (grandfather), Dominique (father) and Aristide Cavaillé-Coll (son); and Moucherel. The photographs of the organs were enhanced by illustrations of their settings; highlights of the organs included historical cases, consoles, and principal internal components.
Organs of Bach Country traced the life of Bach, with photographs of the places where he grew up, the churches where he worked, and the organs he designed and played, along with additional photographic documentation of the organs of Andreas and Gottfried Silbermann, and Arp Schnitger.
Organs of the Austro-Hungarian Empire included pipe organs of Hungary (Budapest, Esztergom, Tihany, Zirc), Austria (Vienna, Melk, St. Florian, and Salzburg), and the Czech Republic (Prague). Historic and modern organs were presented from a variety of churches, cathedrals, abbeys, and concert halls. The photographs showed churches and organs associated with Mozart, Bruckner, Haydn, and Liszt. The photographs and information about these organs and their sites will be available in the near future from the University of Michigan Organ Department website.
The photographs described above and information are contained in several books available through <blurb.com>. The Fehers, along with Marilyn Mason, have produced a photo book about historical organs of Germany and Demark related to Bach and Buxtehude, entitled Sacred Spaces of Germany and Denmark. Their second book on the organs of Hungary, Austria, and the Czech Republic is entitled Sacred Spaces of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. They are beginning to work on another book about the organs of France and Northern Spain. All books may be previewed and ordered from <blurb.com>.

V. Tuesday, October 5, 10:30 am, lecture by Christopher Urbiel, “The History of the Frieze Memorial Organ at Hill Auditorium, The University of Michigan”
Urbiel’s interesting history of this grand organ housed in Hill Auditorium began with the early instrument at Festival Hall at the World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago, Farrand & Votey organ, 1876 and 1893. Albert Stanley purchased the instrument for $15,000 during U of M President Angel’s tenure. It was placed in University Hall and named for Professor Frieze, founder of the University Musical Society and Choral Union, in 1894. In 1912 it was moved from University Hall. The organ has been changed, modified, and “rebuilt” through the years: Hutchings (1913), Moore, Palmer Christian, E.M. Skinner (1928), G. Donald Harrison, Noehren/Aeolian-Skinner (1955), Koontz (1980), renovated in 1900s, and rededicated to Frieze in 1994. Urbiel was very detailed and thorough in his presentation on the Hill Organ, a large unique instrument, and the audience showed great appreciation for his informative and delightful lecture and pictures.

VI. Tuesday, October 5, 11:30 am, lecture by Michael Barone, “Louis Vierne (1870–1937): The ‘Other’ Music (songs, piano pieces, chamber and orchestral works).”
Michael Barone presented the audience with a detailed listing (seven pages), containing comments, performers’ names, disc identification, and other information of Vierne’s “other” music as described in his lecture title. He discussed Vierne’s life and provided insight into the interpretation of his music based on the tragedies and pain Vierne suffered in the losses of his brother and son, coupled with the difficulties Vierne endured in his career, health, and home life. Barone provided more than 20 recorded excerpts, with verbal descriptions and information in an entertaining and interesting manner. Near the end of the seven-page compilation, Barone listed a disc summary of Vierne’s non-organ repertoire. The audience appreciated Barone’s thorough work, sense of humor, and sensitive presentation.

VII. Tuesday, October 5, 1:30 pm, lecture/demonstration by Michele Johns, “Organ ‘Plus’”
Dr. Johns began her lecture/demonstration by sharing some down-to-earth tips when deciding to use the organ with other instruments in services and concerts. She discussed conducting from the organ, getting funding, how to pay performers, ways to obtain band and orchestra members, vocalists, planning rehearsals, and rehearsing. Her program featured three pieces written for organ, two trumpets and two trombones, which she conducted from the organ. In celebration of this 50th annual University of Michigan Conference on Organ Music and in honor of the Organ Department, an arrangement of “Angels We Have Heard on High” for congregation, brass quartet, tympani and organ was premiered. This was a welcomed and enjoyed opportunity for the conferees to participate in this rousing and exciting setting written by Scott M. Hyslop. Dr. Johns received thanks for her expertise.

VIII. Tuesday, October 5, 2:30 pm, lecture by Steven Ball, “Music of René Becker”
Dr. Ball gave a brief history of René Becker, son of Edouard, who was an organist at Chartres Cathedral. Born in 1882, Becker and his four siblings trained at Strasbourg’s Conservatory of Music. In 1904, Becker moved from France to St. Louis and taught piano, organ, and composition at the Becker Conservatory of Music, which he formed with his brothers. He later taught at St. Louis University and Kendride Seminary. In 1912, Becker and his wife moved to Belleville, Illinois, where he became organist at St. Peter and Paul Cathedral. It was at this time that son Julius was born, the only living child of René. Julius, a retired banker, presently lives in Birmingham, Michigan.
René Becker became the first organist of the newly built Blessed Sacrament Cathedral in Detroit in 1930; an AGO member, he helped to establish the Catholic Organists Guild, and with his son founded the Palestrina Institute. Becker retired in 1952 at the age of 70 from St. Alphonsus Church in Detroit. He left over 160 compositions for organ when he died in 1956. Dr. Ball shared some pictures of René Becker and introduced Becker’s son Julius and his family to the conferees. It was a delight to see Julius Becker (keeper of some of Becker’s compositions) in person. Steven Ball received a four-year grant to record René Becker’s compositions. 

 

Andrew Scanlon

The following conversation, conducted both in person and by telephone in March 2013, explores the career of one of America’s most eminent musicians and teachers, Ann Labounsky. Dr. Labounsky was my undergraduate organ teacher at Duquesne University, and she is now in her 44th year as professor and chair of sacred music and organ at that same institution. Some years after completing graduate study and working in church music, I had the privilege of returning to Duquesne as a faculty member, teaching alongside Dr. Labounsky for four years. We maintain a close collaboration, and therefore, I have been in the unique situation of knowing Dr. Labounsky on several levels since we first met in New York City at the 1996 American Guild of Organists Centennial Convention. As a teacher, mentor, colleague, and friend, Ann has challenged, encouraged, and supported me in many ways. In this interview, we discuss Ann’s life and career. Several life chapters particularly dominate our discussion: Ann’s student days at Eastman as a pupil of the young David Craighead, and the full circle of Ann and David’s long friendship; Ann’s time as a Fulbright scholar in Paris, studying organ under André Marchal, Jean Langlais, and Marcel Dupré; and finally, Ann’s inimitable teaching career in Pittsburgh. 

 

 

Andrew Scanlon: When people ask me why I decided to learn to play the organ, I most often reply, “Actually, the organ chose me!” Most of your life has been devoted to the organ. What was your first encounter with the organ, and when did the organ first “choose you?”

Ann Labounsky: As a young girl, our family was living in Port Washington, Long Island, and my mother used to take me to a Methodist church across the street from our home. This was before I could read; and I must have heard the pipe organ, but I don’t have much of a memory of it.

Later, we attended Christ Church (Episcopal) in Oyster Bay, where Paul Sifler (also a composer) was the organist-choirmaster. My mother, my brother, and I all sang in the choir, and it was then that I became interested. I was fascinated by the way Paul played. I would come early for choir rehearsals or lessons to watch him practice. I began studying the organ with Sifler at age 15. He was a very good teacher for me, and I loved his compositions. One summer, I went away to a camp, where I couldn’t play the organ for about two weeks, and I missed it so much. I think at that stage, I knew I would be an organist.

 

The conventional wisdom seems to be that before learning the organ, a strong piano background is useful, even essential. Were you already accomplished on the piano? 

My piano teacher in high school was John LaMontaine, Paul Sifler’s partner. He was also a wonderful composer and had a great command of technique. He followed the Tobias Matthay school of relaxation. I would take the train to go to their apartment on 57th Street in New York to take the lessons. It was he who encouraged me to go to Eastman. 

 

Since your piano teacher encouraged you to apply to the Eastman School of Music, did you audition on both piano and organ? What was required for the audition?

Yes, we were required to perform on both instruments. For the organ portion, I remember playing Mendelssohn’s Sonata No. 6, but can’t remember which Bach I played. I do recall that I played a recital my senior year of high school and had played Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor and Wir glauben all an einen Gott on that recital, so I must have played one of those works. For the piano portion, they required that you know all scales and arpeggios, as well as the performance of a work by Bach and a Beethoven sonata. I was very nervous for the audition.

 

Before you went to Eastman, what, if anything, did you know of David Craighead? Did you want to study with him, or were you taking the advice of your teachers?

Well, no; actually, I didn’t know anything about David Craighead. But John LaMontaine had studied at Eastman, and he thought it was a very good school. He wanted me to study with Eastman’s piano teacher, George MacNabb. (It was from MacNabb that I learned the Brahms Fifty-one Exercises, which I still use.) Paul Sifler thought that Catharine Crozier would have been a good organ teacher for me, and I looked into studying with her. However, by the time I entered Eastman as a freshman, Crozier had already left the Eastman faculty for Rollins College in Florida. 

 

Did you audition anywhere else besides Eastman?

No. It always makes me laugh now, because these days, students audition at several schools. But for some reason, I didn’t.

 

Had you given any thought to what might happen if you didn’t get in?

No, that didn’t occur to me! 

 

In 1957, you moved upstate from Long Island and began your new life in Rochester. What are your memories of those undergraduate years? 

Eastman was a wonderful school. For many years, I stayed in close touch with the friends that I made there because we all struggled together. It was very demanding; in fact, I had nightmares. I was so afraid that I wouldn’t do well enough and that David Craighead would make me study with Norman Peterson, the secondary teacher! 

 

Can you recall your close friends and colleagues from that time?

Some dear colleagues included Bill Stokes, Joanna Tousey, Bill Haller, Maggie Brooks, Bruce Lederhouse, Jim Johnson, Gretchen Frauenberger, and Robert Town. Roberta Gary was working on her doctorate and David Mulberry was a senior, but they were beyond me. They were the great legends at the time!

 

How many students were studying organ then?

I think there may have been about ten—smaller compared to what it is now. 

 

Can you recall periods of particular growth in your playing during the Eastman days, or conversely, any precise struggles?

I don’t recall any struggles specifically; everything was difficult. We had to have all our repertoire memorized. I would get very nervous before performances. I wish that I would have found a way to get over that more easily, as I look back now. But all of this contributed to my growth as a musician. 

 

When you arrived at Eastman, in the studio of David Craighead, he was still fairly new to Eastman’s faculty, correct?

Yes, he had arrived in 1955, and I entered in 1957. He always told me this funny story about when I first arrived. Evidently I went up to his office and knocked on his door and introduced myself. I said, “I’m Ann Labounsky: Ann without the ‘E’!” David said he always remembered that.

 

What was Craighead like as a teacher in 1957? What aspects of learning did he emphasize as a young teacher?

He was always very precise. At that time in his life, he was rather nervous, quite inhibited. He would tell you all the things that were not right, but you always wanted to strive to do better in the next lesson. We spent a lot of time on the registration. He used the Bonnet Historical Anthology of Music, which was highly edited, and not a good edition. He used the Seth Bingham edition of Couperin’s music and I hated that music back then; it wasn’t until I went to Paris to study with [André] Marchal that I knew what it all meant!

 

That anecdote reminds us of how David Craighead evolved tremendously, over the years, both as teacher and a performer.

He did. I remember seeing him some years later, perhaps in the early 1970s. He had come to perform in Pittsburgh, and we attended the Pittsburgh Symphony together. He spoke of the Offertoire from Couperin’s Mass for the Parishes, and how he had learned about the notes inégales. For Bach, we changed registration frequently and each change was well marked in the score. Also, phrasing was carefully marked. Craighead was meticulous about every detail, but was patient in working with us until we got it right. He was most effective when he would quickly slide onto the bench to demonstrate a passage.

 

Can you remember your degree recitals?

They were all in Kilbourne Hall on the Skinner organ. For my senior recital, I played the Bach Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, BWV 543, and of course, a lot of American music. David Craighead loved the music of Sowerby. I played Sowerby’s famous Arioso, which was gorgeous on that organ. At Eastman, there was a kind of “shopping list” of music that we all had to work on. Ironically, when we got to Langlais’ music, I hated it! I had performed some of the Hommage à Frescobaldi, and I didn’t like it at all! I also remember playing in the weekly performance class in preparation for my senior recital. At one such class, having completed a play-through of the Bach “A Minor,” I remember David Craighead saying, “That was bloody but unbowed!” 

 

When you were wrapping up your days at Eastman, did David Craighead advise you about what you should do in terms of furthering your education?

David Craighead was very different from Russell Saunders, who told the students exactly what they should do. David took a far more hands-off approach. He gave his students the confidence to make their own decisions. I thought about staying at Eastman for my master’s degree, but decided to go to the University of Michigan. It turned out to be a very good thing to do that, as I would meet my future husband, Lewis Steele, at Michigan.

 

After four years at the Eastman School, I imagine that you had a much broader sense of the organ world, and you knew what you wanted?

I certainly knew that I wanted to go on to earn a master’s degree, but at that time, I didn’t know much about church music or improvisation. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted, except that I wanted to learn music.

 

In few words, can you summarize the church music curriculum at Eastman in those days?

It didn’t exist! 

 

Your next move was from Rochester to Ann Arbor. Tell us about what life was like at the University of Michigan in 1961.

In those days, the president of the AGO was Roberta Bitgood. She did a wonderful thing for the new students at U. of M. When we got off the train in Detroit, she met all the students. She had gathered members of the clergy from churches in the area that were looking for organists. She introduced all of us, and as a result, I began a church job right away in Dearborn, Michigan, about an hour from Ann Arbor. 

U. of M. was a very different school than ESM. My teacher there was Marilyn Mason. Mason was less of a teacher for me, but more of a coach. David Craighead had really formed my technique—so she didn’t have to work on that. We worked on musical details and interpretation. We always had our lessons on the organ in Hill Auditorium.

 

Were there other organ teachers?

Yes. Ray Ferguson and Robert Noehren were on the faculty at that time. 

 

Besides organ playing, were there any other memorable aspects of the Michigan graduate degree program that helped you grow?

The courses at Michigan were wonderful! I especially recall Hans David the musicologist, and Louise Cuyler, and I learned a great deal from both of them.

 

You mentioned that you also met your husband while at Michigan?

Yes, I earned the degree in one year and two summers, and I was getting ready to play my recital. I met Lewis Steele on the steps of Marilyn Mason’s studio. I needed soloists to sing in my church every Sunday since we didn’t have a summer choir. I heard his resonant voice, and asked him to sing a solo. That’s how our romance started! 

 

Would you care to elaborate?

Well, three children and four grandchildren later, we are very happy together. 

I could never have done the things I have done without Lewis’s support. He always said that in a marriage, it’s not a 50/50 partnership, rather it’s 100/100. You have to give all of yourself, all the time. He did so much in raising the children. I had no idea even how to change diapers. He taught me. So many of the things I didn’t have (for example, expertise in theology, scripture, choral directing), Lewis did have. It has been a wonderful partnership over the years. I always remember what Marilyn Mason said: “I’d marry him for his laugh!”

 

Can you sum up the church music curriculum at U. of M. in those days?

They had two tracks. You could earn the MM in organ, which I did, or the MM in church music. However, it seemed to me that the only difference was you didn’t have to memorize the recital if you were in the church music track. All students took Robert Noehren’s course in organ building, which I almost failed! You had to know the composition of mixtures, which was too much for me! He was a very good teacher, though. He had a significant influence in the organ department there at that time. 

 

As your time wound up in Michigan, the next big step would be the Fulbright process. What were you doing in Michigan to prepare for the program in France?

By the time I got to Michigan, I knew I wanted to go to France for additional study. In fact, I had applied for a Fulbright while still an Eastman student, but I didn’t get it. I applied a second time while at U. of M. I had been passionate about the French language and was determined that I would go to France one way or another. Every week, I would get together with Deedee Wotring, one of André Marchal’s former students. We would meet for coffee, and she would force me to speak French! 

 

But your love of France and the French language had begun long before Michigan, through your beloved Aunt Julia, correct?

I’m glad you mentioned Julia. You knew her and played at her funeral. She had studied art in Paris after the war, and following her arrival back home in New York, she spent every weekend with us in Long Island. Julia was determined to teach me how to speak French! My father (a geologist and engineer who worked on the Manhattan Project) was Russian, his second language being English. I was determined I was going to Paris to study, even if I had to be an au pair. 

In April, having applied for a Fulbright, saying I wanted to study with Marchal, but not yet knowing my fate, I went to a recital at St. Thomas Church Fifth Avenue, performed by Jean Langlais, whom I met for the first time. I told him I had played his Miniature on my graduate recital at the University of Michigan, and that I hoped to soon be in Paris studying. He replied that he hoped he would see me! When I returned home to Long Island from that recital, I found out I had gotten the Fulbright grant! That was such a great blessing to be able to go, with everything paid for; it was just a marvelous thing. 

I should speak a little bit about how we got to France. The first time we went over was on the “Queen Mary,” and on the “France” a number of times. It took five days, and there was no jet lag, because each day you changed the clocks only one hour. It was a wonderful way to travel. Ruth Woods (Harris) and I went together, both studying with Marchal on a Fulbright grant. We remain close friends.

 

Though you are perhaps best known as the leading American disciple of Jean Langlais, when you set off for France, your initial intent was to study with André Marchal, and you did. Tell us about studying with Marchal.

When I heard Marchal play for the first time, it was at Oberlin. He played in a way I had never heard anyone else play. Each line breathed. I heard music differently when he played, and I wanted to learn what he knew. Fortunately, my French was good enough that I didn’t need a translator, but his daughter Jacqueline often translated for the other students. Lessons were in his home at 22 Rue Duroc. I also wanted to study improvisation. Even though Marchal improvised very well, at that time he no longer taught improvisation. He said: “Well, you may study improvisation with Langlais.”

You must understand about the teachers all over Europe at that time: they were very possessive of their students. You were not able to simply study with anyone you wanted; definitely not several teachers! You went abroad to study with ONE teacher. I studied organ repertoire with Marchal, but Marchal gave me his permission to study with Langlais. After that time, while continuing to study with Marchal, I would then go to Ste. Clotilde in the evenings for my lessons with Langlais, which was wonderful. Playing on the organ that Franck, Tournemire, and Langlais knew so well, and hearing their music on that instrument, made all the difference in learning that music.

 

What musical facet did Marchal underscore the most in how to play the organ?

The touch. He had a way of phrasing each line independently. And he had such a concept of the whole piece. I remember working on Bach’s great Fantasy and Fugue in G Minor (BWV 542) with him. He had the whole piece completely engraved in his mind—every voice. It was amazing to me that this blind man knew music so well. For example, if you used a fingering that was not effective, he could tell!

 

You mentioned having studied Couperin as an undergraduate at Eastman. I know that with his interest in early music, Marchal would make the classical French school an essential part of what you studied. How did your point of view evolve with respect to this music?

Marchal just knew that music. I don’t know how—because he had studied with Gigout, and of course, everyone was playing completely legato then. Marchal attributed his style of playing to studying the harpsichord, saying that as a result, he had learned a different way of playing. And in the 1960s, no one else was playing like that. We usually associate Marie-Claire Alain as a leader in the early music revival for the organ—but even in the 1940s when Marie Claire Alain was very young, it was Marchal who was the first great leader in this movement. There was something about the way he played that helped me understand that “this is how you play!” With Marchal, I studied all Couperin, as well as all the music of de Grigny, Clérambault, Daquin, etc.

 

I recall from other conversations over the years that you recall practicing constantly during the time you were in France. You learned a great deal of music—how much repertoire did you absorb in two years?

In addition to all I mentioned just above, with Marchal, I studied all the Bach trio sonatas, all the big preludes and fugues—tons of repertoire! With Langlais I studied all of Franck’s music, much of Tournemire, and other pieces, too. In terms of how lessons worked, with Marchal (and Donald Wilkins said it was the same with Duruflé), you brought in a piece to a lesson, one of these big pieces, and they told you everything you needed to know. If you brought in the same piece again to another lesson, they said, “Well, I already told you everything I know about it last week!” We knew that we wouldn’t be there forever with those brilliant musicians. Our goal was to cover as much repertoire as possible in the shortest amount of time.

 

Do you still play the pieces you studied with Marchal or Langlais the same way as when you learned them? Or do you perform them differently now?

Wonderful question. I think that the spirit is the same; some things changed a little. I’m constantly trying to think in a fresh way, but the spirit of what I learned from Langlais and Marchal has stayed with me.

 

Concerning Marchal’s teaching, did he have any idiosyncrasies?

Many have said of Marchal that if a student was not gifted, he would be very lenient with that student; but the more diligent a student was, he would be much more strict. And that certainly was true. One funny story was about phrasing in one of the trio sonatas. I had asked why he played it that particular way, and he thought for a long time. After quite a long period of silence, finally he answered: “Because it pleases me!”

 

Many people are very well acquainted with your work and expertise on the music and the life of Jean Langlais. Much of this information can be learned from your book, Jean Langlais: The Man and His Music (Amadeus Press, 2000), as well as from the liner notes on your CD recordings. Would you share with us, in a broad sense, what it was like to be Langlais’ pupil, and how that relationship developed over many years?

Langlais was extremely supportive. He always made you feel that you could do anything! If you made a mistake, he knew, but he was just thinking about the music. Always so encouraging and supportive, he was continually trying to find places for his students to play, and to help them in whatever way he could. As I learned his music, I became more and more interested, and I wanted to learn as much as I could. 

 

Over the years, how much cumulative time did you study with Langlais?

I have no idea. I usually had a weekly lesson on Wednesday evenings, when the church was closed. In addition to that, on Saturday afternoons, we were at the Schola Cantorum, and that’s where we worked on improvisation. Over the years, I returned many more times to study.

 

After remaining in France for an extra year, what path did your career take upon returning to the States?

Langlais asked me to be his guide for his fall 1964 American tour, and I did that. Shortly thereafter, I took a job in a very large Roman Catholic church in New Hyde Park, Long Island. I had a choir of men and boys that I had to develop and direct. That was hard work. 

 

How did you end up in Pittsburgh? Did you move there to take up your position as organ teacher at Duquesne University?

In 1967, Lewis and I moved to Pittsburgh to take up a joint church position at Brentwood Presbyterian Church. Lewis was the choir director, and I was the organist. We had only one child, six months old. Two years later, in 1969, the head of graduate studies at Duquesne University called and asked if I would like to teach organ at Duquesne—but I had never heard of Duquesne! Honestly, I was not thinking about teaching in a college and university. I had done some private teaching, but had not thought beyond that. I wanted to be a church musician and recitalist. Looking back on it, I don’t know why I hadn’t considered university teaching. I was busy at the church and raising our kids. So, in 1969, I began teaching part-time, and it initially cost our family money for me to teach at Duquesne, because I had to pay for child care! At that time, there was a degree program in organ, but no sacred music program or sacred music courses. 

In 1972, around the time of the birth of our third child, the dean of Duquesne’s school of music at the time, Gerald Keenan, called me into his office and said they wanted to hire me full-time. After that time, I was the only organ teacher.

 

What was your strategy for building up the sacred music degree programs at Duquesne? 

I didn’t really have a strategy. I worked slowly, adding courses as it made sense. Even before I was full-time, I had brought Jeanne Joulain to Pittsburgh for a recital and workshop—in that way, I was already developing a tradition of guest artists. The first class that I started was the “Service Playing” course. I was always interested in improvisation, having studied it with Langlais, and I had won the very first AGO improvisation competition in 1966 in Atlanta. I began an improvisation course, focusing on rather simple aspects of improvisation. 

For a few years, we moved along slowly, trying to figure out the curriculum and course requirements. In 1976, the 25th year of the Duquesne School of Music, I decided that Langlais should come to Duquesne. This coincided with the official establishment of the sacred music degree programs. While Langlais was in residence, we awarded him an honorary doctorate, and we had a whole week of concerts featuring premieres of his music. This started things off in a huge way, attracting a lot of national attention. Gradually, more and more students wanted to come to Duquesne, continuing over the years. I couldn’t say in what specific year things really blossomed. Another aspect of our program’s emphasis in church music came after I realized there had been a huge void in the Catholic Church after the Second Vatican Council—no choirs, no hymnals, a very low level of music. I saw that Duquesne had a responsibility and an opportunity to take a lead in this area. The dean, Robert Egan, agreed with me, and we worked for several years on strengthening the program. I called many people at different universities to see what other programs were offering. In those early days, I taught all the courses myself, as we didn’t have that many students. 

 

For many years, you have been a serious campaigner for the cause of the AGO certification program. From where did your advocacy of this program emerge?

Initially from Walter Hilse. I met Walter while we were both students in Paris. Walter, also from New York, was studying composition with Nadia Boulanger and organ with Maurice Duruflé. On Wednesday afternoons, Boulanger taught an analysis class for foreigners at her apartment, for which she had a huge following. She had a small house organ, having been a student of Vierne. Students would play pieces (Fauré, for example), and then she would pull the pieces apart and ask questions. She was a huge personality. I still have the scores. (We had to buy the ones she was going to discuss.) At these classes, Walter Hilse encouraged me to become certified. I distinctly remember him saying “You really should take the AAGO [Associate of the AGO] exam.” He has always been a huge promoter of the exams and has had many private students. Anne Wilson and Todd Wilson, for example, prepared for the exams with Walter. While my husband and I were still living on Long Island, I decided to do this. Once I began teaching at Duquesne University, it occurred to me that those skills were so vital to all students, that they should be learning these skills while studying for university degrees. 

 

Did the desire to help students become fluent with keyboard skills such as those tested on the AGO exams prompt you to require the AGO exams as part of the sacred music degrees at Duquesne?

In the early 1980s, I was on the National Committee on Professional Certification. Only one other school in the country was making it a requirement to take the exams. So, I decided to initiate the exams at Duquesne. When you tell people they have to do it, then they just do! Not everyone passed, and people took different exams, depending on their level of expertise. I met many wonderful people on that committee, including Max Miller, Sister Theophane Hytrek, John Walker, and David Schuler, for example. Different years, various others rotated on and off that committee, such as Todd Wilson. 

 

When did you ultimately attempt the Fellowship exam? 

Since I had already made the exams a degree requirement at DU, and I was the National Councillor for Education, I decided that it was time. You can’t just say to someone, “you should do this!”—you need to set an example. During a very busy time, when I had three children, was teaching full time, playing recitals, and was on the national board, I worked with two former students in Pittsburgh, John Miller and Robert Kardasz, to prepare together for the FAGO. Eventually, we all passed! It gave Pittsburgh more people with the FAGO diploma, where previously only Charles Heaton and Don Wilkins had earned it. We needed more highly certified people for a city our size.

 

Why do you consider it so important to take the certification exams?

There are a number of reasons:

1) In order to keep growing you need both long-term and short-term goals. As a student, it’s a short-term goal. Before earning a degree, it helps you have a point of arrival.

2) After my student, John Henninger, graduated from Duquesne, he went on to Westminster Choir College for graduate school and had applied for a church job in Princeton. He had passed the CAGO while at Duquesne, and he was appointed to the job because of having the Colleague Certificate. 

3) The exams represent a very structured way of testing both theoretical and practical skill. You can work at your own pace, and everybody I know who has done this, whether or not they have passed, has profited by it. It seems like a natural thing to do this, when you consider that so many other professions offer certification.

4) Earning an AGO certificate is a way that we show we’re at a certain level in our profession.

5) Earning certification does level the playing field and sets a high standard.

Our professional organization is extremely important. I get upset with people who complain about aspects of degree programs, churches, even the AGO—when the only thing you can do is to get right in the trenches to make things better!

 

Several graduates of Duquesne have gone on to earn the highest AGO certification. How has that made
you feel?

Very proud. You [Andrew Scanlon] being one of them, and now even serving on the national exam committee—that has made me especially proud. My current colleague, Ben Cornelius-Bates, has recently earned the FAGO also. 

 

Reflecting on your almost 45 years of teaching at Duquesne, how would you say your teaching and playing has evolved?

On teaching, David Craighead always said that you learn so much from your students, and I really have. In the beginning, I felt I didn’t know much, but I learned along the way. I found some things that worked well, and I fought the scars of things that didn’t work well. I have found it important to document what each student does. Recently, I got a computer in my studio, and using the “Blackboard” tool has been transformative. I have begun taking notes for each lesson and posting them for each student to view.

In the early days of my teaching, I was still very much in the mode of the teachers I learned from in Paris—Langlais, Marchal, and Dupré. They were very directive. They told you exactly what they wanted you to do. Initially, I taught the way they taught, because it was so fresh in my mind. As things have evolved, I have wanted to help each student find his own voice. I might not always agree with the student, but feel strongly that it’s in the best interest of each student to let them develop their own musical instincts. 

Ironically, when I performed all the recitals that Langlais had organized for me, I still felt I was his student. Langlais said, “You have to do this the way you want to do it.” But he had not taught that way. For example, he was known for saying so emphatically in his teaching that “Franck is tremendously free—just like this!” In improvisation, he taught the Thème libre, which, of course, is not free at all!

As you grow older, you grow in wisdom. You learn a lot from your children, also. They keep you humble, and they really tell you when you mess up! 

When I look at David Craighead, I keep thinking of how he was when I first studied with him at Eastman. Then, he was a new teacher. I had the joy of knowing him so well for the last 14 years of his life, and he had changed so much. He started by telling the students when they had made mistakes, but ended up changing lives. I try to do that too. I try to be a mentor, to do everything I possibly can to encourage my pupils, and help them get along well together. Music school can be almost like a monastery, when you’re all working together, and it’s so important to have a good rapport with your colleagues, to show great compassion for one another. 

Secondly, in answer to your question about my own playing, several things have contributed to the way I have played over the years. One of these was earning my Ph.D. in musicology, and beginning my biography of Langlais as the dissertation. All my years of teaching, the wisdom I gained from colleagues such as Robert Sutherland Lord and Don Franklin, making all the Langlais recordings—all of that contributed to the evolution of my playing. Other factors include the 1985 Bach Year, when I was asked to play an all-Bach recital on the Beckerath organ at St. Paul’s Cathedral in Pittsburgh. I changed my approach to Bach playing, using all toes, and different fingering. Change was in the air at that time. 

 

Have there been still more recent developments?

Yes. I have been working with Don Franklin on the tempo relationships in Bach preludes and fugues. We have been looking back to Kirnberger’s tempo relationships. I am constantly trying to learn more. If you have everything figured out, you may as well just retire, and I’m certainly not ready to retire!

In addition, after being asked a few years ago to do a peer review of a string methods class, I became fascinated with the violin. I realized that I had always wanted to play the violin, but I was afraid to try! I started taking violin lessons with David Gillis, a member of the Pittsburgh Symphony, and I’m still studying! I’m working on the Vivaldi sonatas, Opus 2, which I love! It’s a whole other world. 

The most recent development is the establishment of Duquesne’s chant schola under the direction of faculty member Sister Marie Agatha Ozah, HHCJ. We study the St. Gall notation to incorporate those interpretive elements into our singing. In May 2013, I led a study trip to Paris to play the important organs there and gave a short concert at the Benedictine Abbey in Solesmes. 

 

How do you know what to say when a student plays? What not to say? 

Always, I do it by intuition, and I think David Craighead did too. I’m careful not to say too much, and not say too little. 

 

How do you decide not only what to say, but how to say it? How do you break through?

Teaching is so dynamic, because you have to figure out where the student is and how the student will perceive what you say. You always have to be honest, but you need to be helpful—not damaging. You can’t say something is good when it’s not. Some teachers are more didactic, but I find that I do almost everything by intuition.

 

Realizing that you could retire, what keeps you going?

I love what I’m doing. I’m finally at a point when I can do it more easily.

I still have a lot to give to the students. I can still make a difference in their lives, and I still enjoy it. When we look around the country, and see the teachers who have retired, only to see their programs eliminated, that is always a danger. 

 

What are your hopes for the future of Duquesne’s sacred music and organ programs?

We are working very hard to get a world-class organ on campus! We have plans, and hope to be able to do this in the near future. The last piece of the puzzle is to put a doctoral program in place. That has been in discussion for many years, and it has been very challenging because there are many hoops to jump through. Our library holdings have been critical, but we now have many sacred music collections (the Langlais Collection, the Craighead Collection, the Boys Town Collection, the Richard Proulx Collection, to name a few). We have the faculty, and the quality of teaching, but we need more financial support. 

 

What else would you like to say?

Duquesne University has always been a religious institution. Our mission is to train church musicians. There are other schools whose main issue is getting students ready for competitions, which is wonderful, and I admire them very much. But even David Craighead agreed that he wished the Eastman School had done more with church music and preparation for the AGO exams. I want to prepare students to be musicians in churches of all denominations. We are trying to evolve, as the church continues to evolve. Students have to learn both pastoral skills and musical skills. These are difficult to teach. Our internship, for example, is a requirement partially because of NASM accreditation, but it’s also a critical area that we use to help each student in that very way. 

 

Ann, thank you for sharing these details of your life in teaching and performing. Albert Einstein said, “I never teach my pupils. I only attempt to provide the conditions in which they can learn.” My experience of you as a teacher and mentor has been just so. You always gave the students exactly the right amount of guidance, and offered the right words precisely when they were needed; and yet you always allowed each student to discover his own path. You have led the way gracefully, setting a high bar and leading by example. Most importantly you have shown me the importance of constant, ongoing learning. I look forward to many more years of collaboration and friendship and wish you many blessings for continued joy in your work. 

Diana L. Akers

Diana L. Akers is adjunct professor of organ at Florida Atlantic University, Boca Raton, Florida. She has studied privately with Marie-Louise Langlais and is presently pursuing a Ph.D. in Comparative Studies in Fine and Performing Arts with a primary emphasis on the 20th-century French organ school of composition. To heighten awareness of the pipe organ, she has created and maintains <www.Organiste.net&gt;, a website/calendar and e-mail notification service for organ, music, and arts events.

The 29th International Organ and Church Music Institute was presented June 15–17 by the University of Michigan School of Music, Theatre & Dance and directed by Marilyn Mason, University Organist and Chair of the Organ Department. The institute was devoted to the study of music by César Franck and Olivier Messiaen, Gregorian, Anglican and responsorial chant, Martin Luther’s musical thinking, hymn improvisation, and pipe organs around the world. Sessions were presented by Gordon Atkinson, Ralph Kneeream, Andrew Mead, Helmut Schick, Erven Thoma, and Steven Hoffman. A concert of works for violin and organ opened the institute, and two organ recitals, one of works by César Franck and one of works by Olivier Messiaen, were presented the following two evenings.

Opening concert
The opening concert was part of the Ann Arbor Summer Festival Classical Music Series and was held at Blanche Anderson Moore Hall. Pierre Darchambeau, violin, and Marilyn Mason, organ, performed works for violin and organ by Handel, Bach, Ysaÿe, Mozart, and Rheinberger. The “Marilyn Mason Organ,” Fisk opus 87, is modeled after the medium-sized organs of Gottfried Silbermann and most closely resembles the Silbermann organ in the Georgenkirche in Rötha, Germany (www.milandigitalaudio.com/silbermannstgeorge.htm).
Two early works of J. S. Bach were heard: Partita, “O Gott, du Frommer Gott,” BWV 767, and Pedal-Exercitium, BWV 598, along with Mozart’s Andante für eine Walze in eine Kleine Orgel, KV 616. The Fisk organ, with its one-fifth-comma modified meantone temperament, was the perfect instrument for the performance of this charming piece. Belgian violinist Pierre Darchambeau displayed brilliant technique and musicianship in the performance of the demanding Sonata No. 3 in D Minor, op. 27, no. 3, for violin alone, by Eugene Ysaÿe (1858–1931). Josef Rheinberger (1839–1901) composed several pieces for violin and organ, including the Suite in C Major, op. 166, which concluded the program. Working together as one, the two soloists achieved a finely tuned balance between the instruments, which inspired the audience to call for an encore, the Arioso by J. S. Bach.

Chant
Gordon Atkinson, visiting scholar from Victoria, Australia, conducted two sessions on chant. Born in Melbourne, he spent much of his life in England and North America. He attended the Royal College of Music in London, and was organist at St. John the Baptist in Kensington, where two of his predecessors were Healey Willan and William Harris. Past president of the Royal Canadian College of Organists, Atkinson has composed a number of Mass settings, choral and organ works, including Celebration, commissioned by Marilyn Mason. It appears on a CD played by Marijim Thoene at St. Joseph Abbey, St. Benedict, Louisiana. Dr. Atkinson’s experience as composer, music director, university instructor, and organist provided the group with meaningful, musical and proper methods of singing Gregorian, Anglican and responsorial chant. He provided diverse musical samples, including his own compositions, and opportunities were given to lead as soloist and cantor and to sing with and direct the group. The session concluded with a rendition of the hymn of praise, Atkinson, O God of Light.
Dr. Atkinson later offered a rare and entertaining presentation of “Australia’s Organ Heritage.” Tracing the history of the pipe organ in Australia, he discussed the organ builders who were German emigrants—Daniel Lemke, Carl Krüger, and Johann Wolff. Significant imports came from E. F. Walcker and others, followed by von Beckerath, Jürgen Ahrend, and others. Slides of various organs were displayed, along with recordings of a range of music, from the Gigout Toccata to Waltzing Matilda.

Organ history
Two lectures on pipe organs, “Ancient Organs through Freiburg” and “Poitiers through Contemporary Organ Building,” were presented by organ historians Helmut Schick and Erven Thoma. The historical development of the instrument was documented through ancient diagrams and writings. Mechanical developments were explained and related to performance and compositional development. Audio soundtracks were matched with photos of actual instruments so that one could hear the difference in voicing and organ specifications. Photos showcased the beauty and artwork of the organ cases.

Franck
“Organ Music of Franck (1822–1890), Photographs, Documents, Texts, Scores, Live and Recorded Performances,” was presented by Ralph Kneeream. Preceding the lecture, Dr. Kneeream shared personal memories and photographs of composers such as the Duruflés, Dupré, and Tournemire, and the 19th-century organ builder Aristide Cavaillé-Coll.
Beginning with the history of Sainte Clotilde, the life and works of César Franck were presented through the interpretations of Charles Tournemire and Maurice Duruflé. Dr. Kneeream stated that Cavaillé-Coll changed the French classical organ by reducing the number of flutes and mutations and by adding stops such as harmonic flutes. He was the first to place the Grand Orgue as the lowest manual instead of the Positif, and he included couplers so that the entire organ could be played from the Grand Orgue.
An expert on the life of Charles Tournemire, Kneeream translated and edited Tournemire’s book César Franck (1930). For performance and registration information, he referred the institute attendees to this volume, citing such quotations as “modulate, modulate, modulate” and the recommendation to “play the room” by allowing endings to naturally decay instead of by counting.
Dr. Kneeream noted that Arbiter Records has recently (May 2008) reissued the original Tournemire recordings of the works of Franck on the Ste. Clotilde organ (1930–31). Kneeream wrote the liner notes and recommended that attendees listen to this CD for performance interpretation and to hear the authentic sounds of the Franck organ, before the Tournemire alteration of the organ in 1933 (www.arbiterrecords.com).
According to Kneeream, within the Ste. Clotilde tradition one can hear the lineage of the great organ composers. For example, in Franck’s Choral en la mineur one can hear the influence of Bach’s Prelude in A Minor, BWV 543. The key link among French composers such as Franck, Tournemire and Olivier Messiaen is mysticism.

Franck masterclass and recital
Masterclass performances were given by U of M students Christopher Reynolds, Jason Branham, and Aaron Tan. Institute attendees were later treated to an all-Franck recital by graduate students of Marilyn Mason on the Frieze Memorial Organ in Hill Auditorium (www.umich.edu/~urel/hill/organ.html): Pièce Héroïque, Jason Branham; Cantabile, Christopher Reynolds; Choral in E Major, Paul Haebig; Choral in B Minor, Andrew Meagher; and Choral in A Minor, Aaron Tan.

Messiaen
Professor Andrew Mead, former chair of the music theory department, presented two sessions on Messiaen: “Visions of Glory: An Introduction to Olivier Messiaen’s Works for Organ” and “Olivier Messiaen’s Works for Organ.”
Somewhat demystifying the music of Messiaen, Mead explained that precedents for several of Messiaen’s compositional ideas and colors can be found in the works of composers such as Bach and Berlioz. Trio texture dominates many of Messiaen’s works. For contrast, as in Baroque literature, three very different registrations are used for each of the three voices and, similar to a cantus firmus in chorale preludes, 4-foot registrations are sometimes used for the melody. Like the trios found in the Bach F-Major Toccata, BWV 540, many times all possible combinations of voices are presented. This concept of using all possible combinations was also used in rhythmic and pitch variations. Another Messiaen technique was to contrast a low fundamental with high registration. Preceding Messiaen in French music, Berlioz contrasted six trombones with three flutes in his Requiem.
Dr. Mead explained many of the techniques that contribute to the sense of infinity or timelessness in the music of Messiaen. His music is not about development, but rather about return and reflection. One should look for recurrent motivic spans, both identical and similar, and techniques such as stretching and contraction and non-retrogradable rhythms. Mead also explained many of the pitch techniques and sources that Messiaen used in his compositions. Modes of limited transposition and chords of the dominant are all explained in Messiaen’s book, The Technique of My Musical Language. Chords of the resonance, based on the overtone series, parallel motion in the modes and in transposed scales, and combinations of scales all contribute to the sense of timelessness in this music, which moves slowly with contrasting, ever-changing colors and rhythm.

Martin Luther
Pulling together all aspects of the institute, Steven Hoffman’s lecture and demonstration, “Next to Theology . . . Music: Luther’s Musical Thinking and Hymn Improvisation,” combined chant, textual meaning, improvisation from organ literature, and inspirational organ playing. Theology first and music second was the focus of Luther’s musical thinking. Choosing several hymns from the Lutheran hymnal, Dr. Hoffman examined the texts first, then the musical sources, and then creatively improvised introductions that portrayed the meaning of the texts. One of his most dramatic improvisations was from Messiaen’s L’Apparition de l’Église Éternelle introducing the hymn, “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence.” Citing Luther’s quotation, “Next to theology, God’s greatest gift is music,” Hoffman demonstrated how the gifts of the human voice, text, and musical skill and knowledge all can be used to celebrate the glory of God. The lecture then concluded with the uplifting, rhythmic version of “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God” (Ein Feste Burg), text by Martin Luther.

Messiaen recital
Topping the final day was an all-Messiaen recital on the Frieze Memorial Organ in Hill Auditorium. Graduate students Christopher Reynolds, Jason Branham, Andrew Meagher, Christopher Urbiel, Richard Newman, and Paul Haebig performed Le Banquet Céleste, Apparition de l’Église Éternelle, “Alléluias sereins” (L’Ascension), “Adoro te” (Livre du Saint Sacrement), “Les Mains de l’abîme” (Livre d’Orgue), and “Joie et clarté des corps glorieux” (Les Corps Glorieux). Dr. Mason performed Verset pour la fête de la Dédicace, a later work of chant and birdsong, and Dr. Mead performed three movements from Messe de la Pentecôte.
The recital was a brilliant ending to three days of a well-conceived interdisciplinary study of the pipe organ and church music. If there were one recurrent theme throughout the various sessions of the institute, it would be a sense of élan, or a call from the soul, and mysticism. In this music, reaching toward the beyond is essential for the composers, the organbuilders, the performers, and the listeners.