Jean Langlais’ Suite médiévale and Vatican II

Bynum Petty

Bynum Petty is former archivist of the Organ Historical Society Library and Archives. He was a founding member of Petty-Madden Organbuilders of Hopewell, New Jersey, from which he 
is retired.

He has written three books related to the history of the American pipe organ and is working on a fourth. He lives in rural central New Jersey.

Restoration of Aeolian-Skinner Opus 1273—Renewal of interest in the works of Charles Tournemire—and revitalization of the oldest city in Pennsylvania

In the beginning: Colonial Era

This is a study of improbabilities, of events inconceivable, unimaginable, and unlikely, yet of those inscribed into the canon of human existence along the banks of the Delaware River in Southeastern Pennsylvania. The improbabilities are obvious, but that a performance of music by a neglected and poorly appreciated French composer on an organ built by a company once scorned by contemporary scholarship in a city once pronounced derelict¹ and without hope all demand our attention.

Less than twenty miles south of today’s Philadelphia City Hall, a small group of Scandinavians established a colony on the west bank of the Delaware River and named it Upland after their homeland region near Uppsala, Sweden. The year was 1644. When William Penn founded Philadelphia in 1682, he renamed Upland as Chester, already the oldest city in Pennsylvania. The small river town grew rapidly and became a major source of manufactured goods—especially machinery, locomotive engines, shipbuilding, and textiles.

As the town grew, the wealth of its merchant class and industry owners increased and provided funds for the construction of civic and religious institutions. In 1681, Penn arrived in Upland and declared it a haven for Quakers. Other religious congregations grew, too, and in 1702 Christ Church of Philadelphia established a mission in the prosperous riverfront community. On January 24, 1703, the first service was held in the new church, a modest and unadorned structure not unlike neighboring Quaker meeting houses. The rectangular building was forty-nine feet long and twenty-six feet wide and contained twenty-four pews. Named Saint Paul’s Church, the congregation struggled to survive throughout the remainder of the century and was closed during the Revolutionary War, even though Chester continued to prosper. Yet, the city of Chester was not without its own severe reversals of fortune, for in 1793 and 1798 yellow fever killed twenty percent of the city’s residents. Due to these struggles, there was no rector and no congregation at Saint Paul’s Church into the first quarter of the nineteenth century.

Rapid growth

In 1831 with the appointment of John Baker Clemson as vicar of Saint Paul’s, a long, steady period of growth brought new life into the parish, so much so that a new church building was completed in 1850. To make room for a growing congregation, the building was enlarged in 1873, and for this structure is the first mention of a pipe organ at Saint Paul’s Church. The Chester waterfront was alive with shipbuilding activity, and its capitalist leaders were awash in disposable income to spend on their community, with houses of worship being the most conspicuous display of this newfound wealth.

Not unexpectedly, the nation’s preeminent builder of pipe organs was commissioned to construct an instrument for the recently enlarged church building. Under the moniker E. & G. G. Hook, brothers Elias and George Hook built their first organ in 1829 for the Unitarian Church in Danvers, Massachusetts. Within a period of ten years, the brothers had built fourteen organs and moved from Salem, Massachusetts, to Boston, where their tonal and mechanical abilities became legendary. In 1872, Francis Hastings entered a partnership with the Hook brothers, at which time the firm was renamed E. & G. G. Hook & Hastings. After 1881, the company name was changed to Hook & Hastings. When Hastings became a partner, the company was already capitalizing on modern methods of mass production of stock models, made possible by innovations of the Industrial Revolution. In 1884, Hook & Hastings installed Opus 1223 in the enlarged and restored Saint Paul’s Church.²

1884 Hook & Hastings Opus 1223

GREAT (Manual I)

16′ Bourdon

8′ Open Diapason

8′ Dulciana

8′ Melodia

4′ Octave

2-2⁄3′ Twelfth

2′ Fifteenth

8′ Trumpet

SWELL (Manual II, enclosed)

8′ Open Diapason

8′ Viola

8′ Stopped Diapason

4′ Flute Harmonique

4′ Violina

8′ Oboe (treble)

8′ Bassoon (bass)

PEDAL

16′ Bourdon

8′ Flöte

Mechanical registers

Swell to Great coupler

Great to Pedal coupler

Swell to Pedal coupler

Tremolo

Blower’s signal

Pedal movements

Forte combination, Great Organ

Piano combination, Great Organ

Balanced Swell pedal

 

Compass: Manual, 58 notes, C–a3; Pedal, 27 notes, C–d1

Prosperity and financial security

At the same time, shipbuilding in Chester was entering a phase of rapid growth. In 1871, the city’s largest shipbuilding company went into receivership and was purchased by John Roach, who transformed it into the Delaware River Iron Shipbuilding and Engine Works, America’s largest and most productive shipyard through the 1880s. Altogether the company built 179 ships, including ten warships for the United States Navy.

Conspicuous display of wealth

Again, the correlation between local industry and Saint Paul’s Church is palpable. A decision was made in 1895 to relocate to a new, larger building. The cornerstone was laid on June 1, 1899, and the new building was occupied on Easter Sunday, April 15, 1900, and there, the church celebrated its two-hundredth anniversary in 1903.

The church’s sixteen-year-old Hook & Hastings organ was moved to the new building and later modified by C. S. Haskell sometime before 1909. The Haskell nave façade is all that remains of that organ.

Meanwhile, a war was brewing in Europe, the effects of which would take Chester and Saint Paul’s through unprecedented growth for more than four decades. Early in the nineteenth century, Sun Oil Company needed tankers to transport oil from company fields in Texas to its refinery in Marcus Hook adjacent to the south side of Chester. The Pew brothers, owners of Sun Oil, purchased fifty acres of riverfront in Chester, where they built one of the largest shipyards in the country. From 1917 onward into the middle of the century, Sun Ship and Dry Dock Company built about 700 vessels. During World War I, the company employed more than 10,000 people; and by the time the United States entered World War II, more than 35,000 employees worked at Sun Ship.

Opus 1273

Shipbuilding in Chester peaked mid-century, and it was time for Saint Paul’s to purchase a new pipe organ. Again, it turned to Boston, home of one of the nation’s most prestigious organ companies, Aeolian-Skinner,³ as the source of its choice. Like Chester’s industry, it might be said that the Aeolian-Skinner Organ Company reached its production peak mid-century. G. Donald Harrison, its president and tonal director, was at the zenith of his prowess and fame, with major religious and educational institutions holding instruments bearing the Aeolian-Skinner nameplate.

Given that Harrison was already deeply involved with finishing organs at Saint Thomas Church, New York City, and Saint Paul’s Church, Philadelphia (Chestnut Hill), Joseph Whiteford was given responsibility for the design and construction of Opus 1273 for Saint Paul’s Church, Chester. Joseph S. Whiteford joined the Boston staff in 1948 as assistant to the president.

Born into a wealthy family, Whiteford’s arrival at the organ works could not have been more propitious, as Harrison was desperately in need of help and the company was constantly in need of capital. Arriving at Aeolian-Skinner at the age of twenty-seven, the young Whiteford was sophisticated, articulate, and personable. His love of the human voice led him to emphasize the role of the organ in choral and congregational accompaniment, although this love never materialized consistently into instruments ideally suited for that task.

After Harrison’s unexpected death in 1956, during Whiteford’s short occupancy as president of the firm, he supervised the design and construction of instruments for some of the country’s most prestigious concert halls: Ford Auditorium, Detroit; Academy of Music, Philadelphia; Philharmonic Hall at Lincoln Center, New York City; and Kennedy Center in the nation’s capital; yet none of these survived the test of time or public enlightenment.

Whiteford’s design for Saint Paul’s Church marks an erudition of tonal design that merits further examination as it demonstrates a knowledge of historical pipe-scaling practices, albeit limited—one might say “cookbook-ish”—but there is an undeniable safety following proven paradigms, leaving plenty of room for creativity yet to be realized. Continuing the British pattern⁴ of reducing foundational weight and strengthening treble harmonic development as conceived by G. Donald Harrison and at the same time by Richard O. Whitelegg at the M. P. Möller Organ Company, Whiteford soon altered the harmonic pyramid to favor mid- and upper-range domination over foundation tone. Saint Paul’s organ shows the beginnings of this shift, with the 4′ Octave being the same scale as the 8′ Principal on the Great division of the organ. Even though tucked away in a chancel chamber, the organ fills the acoustical space with voluptuous grandeur, and there is an undeniable clarity and generosity of tonal color. Whiteford was still finding his own way, as it were, since the organ speaks with a strong “Harrison accent.” Whiteford remained with the company another decade or so before retiring to California in 1966. He died of a cerebral hemorrhage in 1978 at age fifty-six. His tenure at Aeolian-Skinner is under-appreciated and merits further study.

1956 Aeolian-Skinner Opus 1273*

GREAT (Manual I, 3″ wind)

8′ Principal 61 pipes (45 scale, 1⁄4 mouth, 1⁄2 on 17)

8′ Gedeckt 61 pipes (“exactly as op. 1254”)

8′ Flûte Conique (Swell)

4′ Octave 61 pipes (57 scale, 1⁄4 mouth width, 1⁄2 on 17)

4′ Rohrflöte 61 pipes (“exactly as op. 1254”)

2-2⁄3′ Twelfth (68 scale) 61 pipes

2′ Fifteenth (70 scale) 61 pipes

11⁄3′ Fourniture III–V 244 pipes (special–Stinkens)

8′ Hautbois (Swell)

Tremulant

Chimes

Great 4

Great 16

Great Unison

SWELL (Manual II, enclosed, 4″ wind)

16′ Quintaton (44 scale) 68 pipes

8′ Rohrbordun (“no. 4”) 68 pipes

8′ Viola Pomposa 68 pipes (50 scale, tapered 2 pipes)

8′ Viola Céleste 68 pipes (60 scale, then as Viola)

8′ Flûte Conique (48 scale) 68 pipes

4′ Spitzflöte (60 scale) 68 pipes

2-2⁄3′ Nasat (“no. 7”) 61 pipes

2′ Zauberflöte (“common”) 61 pipes

2′ Plein Jeu III (“common”) 183 pipes

16′ Contra Hautbois 68 pipes (A-S op. 1110)

8′ Trompette (“no. 4”) 68 pipes

8′ Vox Humana 61 pipes

4′ Rohrschalmei (“common”) 68 pipes

Tremulant

Swell 4

Swell 16

Swell Unison

PEDAL (4″ wind)

16′ Contre Basse 32 pipes (“exactly as op. 1272”)

16′ Bourdon 32 pipes

16′ Quintaton (Swell)

8′ Spitzprincipal (ext) 12 pipes

8′ Bourdon (ext) 12 pipes

4′ Choral Bass (ext) 12 pipes

2-2⁄3′ Fourniture II 64 pipes (22⁄3+2, 66 scale + 68 scale)

16′ Contre Hautbois (Swell)

8′ Hautbois (Swell)

4′ Hautbois (Swell)

Inter-divisional couplers

Great to Pedal 8

Swell to Pedal 8

Swell to Pedal 4

Swell to Great 16

Swell to Great 8

Swell to Great 4

Compass: Manual, 61 notes, C–c4; Pedal, 32 notes, C–g1

* The contract bearing the signature of G. Donald Harrison was signed on February 10, 1954, with an anticipated delivery and completion on or about May 1955. Actual installation occurred in January 1956. Annotated pipe construction details are taken from Joseph Whiteford’s handwritten notes on the organ contract. [MS 52 E. M. Skinner/Aeolian-Skinner Collection, Library and Archives of the Organ Historical Society, Villanova, Pennsylvania.]

Renewal

Now well past the economic might of an earlier Chester, the Aeolian-Skinner organ at Saint Paul’s needed restoration. Improbably, not only did the congregation choose to remain within the city during a long, devastating decline of civic fortunes, but it also placed great historical and utilitarian value on its Aeolian-Skinner organ. Based on an established commitment to preservation, Stephen L. Emery, Inc., of Quakertown, Pennsylvania, was chosen to restore the organ at Saint Paul’s Church. Beginning in the summer of 2021, the instrument was removed for cleaning, repairs, and replacement of leather components. Restoration was completed a year later, but tonal finishing was postponed until the arrival of cooler weather in early autumn of 2022. On Sunday, October 30, 2022, Richard Spotts played the inaugural recital on the restored organ; and with his all-Tournemire recital, we near the end of our tale of improbabilities.

Charles-Arnould Tournemire (1870–1939) was a brilliant but now largely forgotten French composer, and history has not been kind to Tournemire in part because of the intimidating intellectual content of his music. Thus, his musical legacy is known but to a privileged few. After receiving a copy of Trois Poèmes, Olivier Messiaen wrote Tournemire:

The harmonic and modal richness of the first poem, and the alléluiatique and glorifiante of the third, make them very beautiful pages. I particularly like in the second movement how the flowing stream of the 8′ Bourdon and the admirable choice of the timbres bring out the freedom of counterpoint and the extreme external and internal emotion of the music. If all modern musicians had faith like you, they would perhaps not have the quality of your music, but at least their work would have more of the grandeur of life.⁵

Further commenting on Trois Poèmes, Norbert Dufourcq wrote in La Revue musicale, “The plainsong passes here and there from the pedal to the upper parts of the manuals, often as a simple pretext for flamboyant arabesques or warm harmonies. Through a single Bourdon, or an 8′ Flûte, or a Voix humaine, Charles Tournemire knows how to elicit seductive poems.”⁶

In January 1927, Tournemire began work on L’Orgue Mystique, his magnum opus completed in February 1932. Consisting of over 1,000 pages of printed music, the score took eight years for the publisher Heugel to complete. In the foreword to L’Orgue Mystique, Joseph Bonnet wrote:

A great musician was needed for its accomplishment, a master of organ technique and composition, having a great Spirit of Faith, loving the supernatural beauty of the Liturgy and of Gregorian melodies . . . . 
It is a splendid evocation of the architecture of our cathedrals, of the rich color of their stained glass, of liturgical splendor revealed to us in the Monastery of Solesmes as we would like to find in every church of the Catholic world. Our contemporary musical language possesses astonishing aptitudes to paraphrase Gregorian melodies. So without sacrificing anything of his rich imagination, of his brilliant originality, Charles Tournemire has succeeded in creating such a mystical frame for the liturgical melodies.⁷

In an encyclical of 1903, Pope Pius X wrote that

Sacred music should consequently possess, in the highest degree, the qualities proper to the Liturgy, and in particular, sanctity and goodness of form, which will spontaneously produce the final quality of universality. It must be true art, for otherwise, it will be impossible for it to exercise on the minds of those who listen to it that efficacy that the Church aims at obtaining in admitting into her Liturgy the art of musical sounds. These qualities are to be found, in the highest degree, in Gregorian chant, which is, consequently, the chant proper to the Roman Church.⁸

Denouement

We are faced with the conundrum of performing Tournemire’s organ music out of liturgical context, for indeed, it is not concert-hall music. Intellectual challenges aside, his organ music is “church music,” and until the improbable return of Gregorian chant to the Catholic Mass, it is unlikely that Charles Tournemire’s organ music will ever enter the mainstream of organ repertoire. But for some, this is a mere distraction. Among his peers—Norbert Dufourcq, Maurice Duruflé, Joseph Bonnet, Jean Langlais, Gaston Litaize, and Olivier Messiaen—his music was ne plus ultra. In present times, Richard Spotts carries the revival mantle passed onto him by Marie-Louise Langlais, Robert Sutherland Lord, Ann Labounsky, and Stephen Schloesser, S.J.; and more recently, Tournemire’s opera, La Légende de Tristan (1926), received its worldwide premiere performance ninety-six years after its completion.⁹ Further, the publication of a massive study of Tournemire and L’Orgue Mystique is imminent.

The path to revival for the city of Chester has been much more arduous. While billions of public and corporate dollars have been invested in the renewal of Chester, it ranks as the seventh poorest city in Pennsylvania. With a population of about 34,000—less than half that of the 1930s and 1940s—thirty-seven percent of its citizens live in poverty.¹⁰ Political corruption and organized crime continue to harm the city, as does the lack of public safety. According to a recent report, Chester ranks twentieth on a list of the top one-hundred most dangerous cities in the United States, with a chance of becoming a victim of either violent or property crime at one in twenty.¹¹ Yet, renewal on the banks of the Delaware River is not dead, as public and private investments in the city continue to grow; but ignominiously, the City of Chester declared bankruptcy less than two weeks after being introduced to the mystical universe of Charles-Arnould Tournemire and the classic timbres of the restored Aeolian-Skinner organ at Saint Paul’s Church. Vita brevis, ars longa.

Notes

1. At one point in its history, Chester earned the name “Saloon City” because it had more bars than policemen.

2. A devastating fire destroyed much of the church interior in 1884. During repairs, the congregation met at the Presbyterian Church, which has now been destroyed by an arsonist.

3. During the tenure of G. Donald Harrison, the spelling of Aeolian was changed to incorporate the Æ ligature, which is found on the Saint Paul’s, Chester, organ contract. Æolian-Skinner’s use of the spelling was casual. Even with the Chester organ, the ligature is not found on the printed contract nor on the console nameplate, yet it is on the title page of the organ stoplist and specification, as well as on related correspondence.

4. G. Donald Harrison and Richard O. Whitelegg were British.

5. Brigette de Leersnyder, L’Orgue Cahiers et Mémoires: Charles Tournemire (1870–1939) (Paris: l’Association des Amis de l’Orgue, 1990), 87–88.

6. Norbert Dufourcq, “La Musique d’orgue français au XXe siècle” (from La Revue musicale, 1938 and 1939) (Paris: Secrétariat général des Amis de l’Orgue, 1939), 19–23.

7. Charles Tournemire, L’Orgue Mystique. 51 vols. (Paris: Heugel et Cie., 1929–1936), preface to each volume.

8. Pius X, “Tra le Sollecitudini,” http://www.adoremus.org/MotuProprio.html (accessed November 23, 2022).

9. December 15, 2022, Ulm, Germany.

10. Candy Woodall, “The 35 poorest towns in Pennsylvania,” https://www.pennlive.com/news/2018/01/the_35_poorest_towns_in_pennsy.html (accessed November 24, 2022).

11. “NeighborhoodScout’s Most Dangerous Cities–2020,” https://www.neighborhoodscout.com/blog/top100dangerous-2020 (accessed November 24, 2022).

Carolyn Shuster Fournier

A French American organist and musicologist living in Paris, Carolyn Shuster Fournier was organist at the American Cathedral in 1988 and 1989. After thirty-three years of faithful service at Église de la Sainte-Trinité, where she had directed a weekly noontime concert series, she was named honorary titular of their 1867 Cavaillé-Coll choir organ. A recitalist, she has made recordings and contributed articles to specialized reviews, on both sides of the Atlantic. In 2007 the French Cultural Minister awarded her the distinction of Knight in the Order of Arts and Letters.

Editor’s note: Part 1 of this series appeared in the February 2024 issue, pages 10–16.

The repertoire of César Franck’s organ students

What organ repertoire did César Franck’s students play, and how did they play it? Many of them stated that he did not give them any indications concerning tempi, style, technique, and registrations.⁸⁷ Let us examine if this is true by beginning with their repertoire, which was founded on the works of the great master Johann Sebastian Bach, the absolute spiritual reference for these budding organists. Franck’s students played the following Bach works during their exams and competitions:⁸⁸

Played once: Well-Tempered Clavier, Part 1, “Fugue in C-sharp Minor,” BWV 849ii, and “Fugue in F Minor,” BWV 857ii; Well-Tempered Clavier, Part II, “Fugue in C Minor”, BWV 871ii; “Fugue in D Major,” BWV 874ii, “Fugue in D-sharp Minor,” BWV 877ii; “Fugue in E Major,” BWV 878ii; “Fugue in F Minor,” BWV 857ii or BWV 881ii; “Fugue in A-flat Major,” BWV 862ii or BWV 886ii; “Fugue in B-flat Minor,” BWV 891ii. Aria in F Major, BWV 587; fugue of the Passacaglia in C Minor, BWV 582; Canzona and Fugue in D Minor, BWV 588; Prelude in E Minor, BWV 555i; Fantasy in C Minor, BWV 562i; Fantasy and Fugue in G Minor, BWV 542; Pastorale in F Major, BWV 590; Prelude in E Minor, BWV 533i; and Prelude in G Major, BWV 568; Fugue in C Major, BWV 545ii, and either BWV 564iii or BWV 566; Fugue in C Minor (unspecified); Fugue in D Minor (unspecified); “Toccata” from Toccata, Adagio, and Fugue in C Major, BWV 564; “Allegro,” first movement of Sonata in E-flat Major, BWV 525.

Played twice: Well-Tempered Keyboard, Part I, “Fugue in B-Flat Minor,” BWV 867ii. Fugue in E Minor, BWV 555ii; Prelude and Fugue in G Major, BWV 557; Prelude and Fugue G Minor, BWV 558; Prelude and Fugue B-flat Major, BWV 560; Prelude in C Minor, BWV 546i; Prelude in C Minor; Prelude in D Major, BWV 532i; Prelude in G Major, BWV 541i; Prelude in B Minor, BWV 544i; Fugue in D Minor, BWV 539ii; Fugue in E Minor, BWV 548ii; Fugue in F Major, BWV 540ii; Fugue in F Minor, BWV 534ii; Fugue in G Minor, BWV 131a; Fugue in B Minor on a Theme by Corelli, BWV 579; Fugue in B Minor, BWV 544ii; Fantasy in G Minor, BWV 542ii; Passacaglia in C Minor, BWV 582; Prelude and Fugue in E Minor, BWV 533; Toccata in D Minor, BWV 565i; Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, BWV 565; first movement of Concerto in A Minor after Vivaldi, BWV 593; O Lamm Gottes, unschuldig, BWV 656; O Mensch, bewein’ dein’ Sünde gross, BWV 622.

Played three times: Prelude in E-flat Major, BWV 552i; Fugue in C Major, BWV 566ii; Fugue in C Minor on a Theme by Legrenzi, BWV 574; Fugue in G Minor, BWV 542ii; Prelude and Fugue in C Major, BWV 566; Prelude and Fugue C Minor, BWV 546; Toccata in F Major, BWV 540i; last movement of Concerto in A Minor after Vivaldi, BWV 593.

Played four times: Concerto in G Major after Prince Johann Ernst, BWV 592; Fantasy in C Minor, BWV 537; Fugue in C Minor, BWV 546ii; Toccata in D Minor (“Dorian”), BWV 538i.

Played six times: Concerto in A Minor after Vivaldi, BWV 593; Fugue in G Minor, BWV 578.

Played eight times: Fugue in C Minor, BWV 537.

In 1887 Franck prepared five volumes with thirty-one Bach pieces in a Braille edition for the National Institute for the Blind in Paris. It used heels, heel and toe crossings, finger, foot, and hand substitutions, finger, foot, and thumb glissandi, which favored a complete legato.⁸⁹ All pieces included in this collection were performed by Franck’s students at the Paris Conservatory, except for the chorales An Wasserflüssen Babylon, BWV 653, and Wir glauben all an einen Gott, Vater, BWV 740. On the other hand, they had performed the following works that were not in Franck’s Braille edition of Bach’s organ works: selections from Well-Tempered Clavier, parts 1 and 2; Aria in F Major, BWV 587; Concerto in G Major after Prince Johann Ernst, BWV 592; Fugue in G Minor, BWV 131a; Pastorale in F Major, BWV 590; Toccata in D Minor (“Dorian”), BWV 538i; and the first movement (“Allegro”) of Sonata in E-flat, BWV 525.

Franck’s ten students who had previously studied at the Niedermeyer School and at the National Institute of Blind Youth had immediately played Bach’s virtuosic works: Fugue in D Major, BWV 532 (played by Albert Mahaut and Adolphe Marty); Fugue in E Minor, BWV 548 (played by Joséphine Boulay); Fantasy and Fugue in G Minor, BWV 542 (played by Mahaut). They won their first prizes rapidly, except for Henri Letocart. As at the Niedermeyer School, Franck’s students likely used the C. F. Peters edition of Bach’s organ works. Many of his long-term students had begun with Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier and Eight Little Preludes and Fugues. Franck had inscribed in John Hinson’s copy of the Well-Tempered Clavier numerous “optional” pedal indications for the first twelve preludes and fugues in this collection.⁹⁰ Charles-Valentin Alkan’s performances of Bach chorales and trio sonatas in his Les Petits Concerts in the Salons Érard between 1873 and 1880⁹¹ certainly inspired Franck’s students to play the two chorales and a movement of a trio sonata.

Franck’s students thoroughly studied the construction of Bach’s fugues, more than his preludes—for example, the combination of themes in the Fugue in C Minor, BWV 574.⁹² This truly inspired his students’ improvisations and compositions as well as those of his own, as shown in his Prélude, Fugue et Variation, Grande Pièce Symphonique, and Trois Chorals.⁹³ Bach’s fugues were indeed “the model for all music.”⁹⁴ During the bicentenary of J. S. Bach’s birth in 1885, René de Récy had indicated the importance of the fugue in Bach’s works: “The fugue is . . . the first complete type of musical composition.”⁹⁵ Mel Bonis, who attended his class as an auditor around 1878, remembers having heard him say, “Bach is the oldest of the future musicians.”⁹⁶

In addition to their substantial Bach repertoire, Franck’s students played Handel’s Concerto in B-flat Major, a short piece by Lemmens, Schumann’s Canonic Study in A-flat Major, opus 56, number 4 (played twice), and movements from Felix Mendelssohn’s sonatas, notably Sonata VI, based on the Lutheran hymn, “Vater unser im Himmelreich,” played six times. Franck’s teaching, based on these German masters, was faithful to that of Alexis Chauvet, François Benoist, and Charles-Valentin Alkan, who had composed works based on Protestant chorales, such as his Impromptu sur le Choral de Luther (“Ein Feste Burg”), dedicated to François Benoist.

For Franck, improvisation was an “authentic compositional act.”⁹⁷ Vincent d’Indy and Charles Tournemire considered it to be “an infinitely precious advantage to work for two years in his organ class, a center of true studies in composition.”⁹⁸ According to his composition student, Charles Bordes (1863–1909), “Father Franck was formed by his students.”⁹⁹

Franck’s students became pioneers when they played their master’s works, which were relatively unknown then. When Georges Bizet heard a student play Franck’s Prélude, Fugue et Variation during an exam, he confided to Franck, “Your piece is exquisite. I did not know that you were a composer.”¹⁰⁰ Franck’s following fourteen students promoted and encouraged him by performing his works for their exams and their competitions:

Adèle Billaut: Prélude, Fugue et Variation (January 1875)

Marie Renaud: Prélude, Fugue et Variation (July 1876)

Georges Verschneider: Fantaisie in C (January 1874), ^Pastorale (January 1877), and ^Prière (June 1877)

Henri Dallier: Fantaisie in C (June 1878)101

Gabriel Pierné: Final (July 1882)

Henri Kaiser: Grande Pièce Symphonique (July 1884)

François Pinot: Fantaisie in A (June 1885)

Adolphe Marty: Fantaisie in C (June 1886)

Jean-Joseph Jemain: Cantabile (January 1887), the beginning of Grande Pièce Symphonique (June 1887)

Georges Aubry: Cantabile (June 1888)

Georges Bondon: Prière (July 1888), Grande Pièce Symphonique (July 1889)

Albert Mahaut: Prière (June 1889)

Marie Prestat: Prélude, Fugue et Variation (July 1889), Fantaisie in A (January 1890), and Prière (July 1890)

Henri Letocart: Pastorale (July 1890).

For Tournemire, his master’s “Prière,” the most remarkable of his Six Pièces, is an uninterrupted large fresco. Its “Andante sostenuto” theme is played at the tempo of 55 to the quarter note. Its animated central melismatic recitative sections, played with great liberty and at a livelier tempo, at 76 to the quarter note, “provide the necessary calm to express the initial theme when it returns with more ardent intensity. One must interpret its conclusion with fantasy.”¹⁰² Jean Langlais regretted that he never heard Albert Mahaut play it. Mahaut revered it so much that he had stopped playing it when he was seventy-five years old.¹⁰³ Dedicated to François Benoist, it was played four times, which duly rendered homage to Franck’s predecessor.

Charles Tournemire’s indications in his book César Franck prove that Franck did indeed deal with expressive interpretational matters. In accordance with his master’s approach, he analyzes the basic form and structure of each piece, its musical expression, its tempos, and its mystical meaning. The exquisite Prélude, Fugue et Variation, a sweet Bach-like cantilena, was dedicated to Camille Saint-Saëns. The “Andantino” should be played without rigor at the tempo of 60 to the quarter note, the “Fugue” at 88, and the “Variation” without haste, very clearly, “at the tip of your fingertips.”¹⁰⁴ In the Grande Pièce Symphonique, the first Romantic sonata conceived for the organ, dedicated to Charles-Valentin Alkan, Tournemire provides the following tempi: “Andante serioso” with the quarter note at 69, “Allegro non troppo e maestoso” with a half note at 80; quarter notes in the “Andante” at 60; in the “Scherzo-Allegro” quarter notes at 96; in the final grand choeur quarter notes at 80; and the final fugue with a half note at 60; after the final subject in the pedal, one should broaden the tempo until the end. In the pure Fantaisie in C, dedicated to Alexis Chauvet, the “Quasi lento” is “a small, calm intense poem;”¹⁰⁵ the quarter notes in its “Poco Lento” can be played at 66 without dragging, and its pastorale-like “Allegretto cantando” around 76, with great suppleness. Its calm, contemplative final “Adagio” rejects any metronomic movement. In the charming Pastorale, the quarter notes of the “Andantino” are at 58; in the “Quasi Allegretto,” the quarter notes are at 100, and slightly less rapidly during the exposition of the fugue. In the Fantaisie in A, the quarter note of “Andantino” is at 88, and the movement should fluctuate with much liberty; after “Très largement,” at measure 214, one returns to the initial tempo with “a feeling of infinite calm”¹⁰⁶ until its delicate ending. In the remarkable Cantabile, with the general movement of a quarter note at 69, each interpreter should “follow his own interiority!”¹⁰⁷

Charles Tournemire’s disciple Maurice Duruflé indicated Tournemire’s advice in brackets in his own edition of Franck’s works, published in Paris by Bornemann. He wrote the following concerning the general interpretations of this music: “It is certain that one must bring to it a wide-awake sensitivity, but a sensitivity the measure of which must be ceaselessly controlled. Even though, it is delicate and even dangerous to give too precise indications in this realm, which remains personal. . . .”¹⁰⁸ One must always remain faithful to César Franck’s musical intentions, which means that one may need to change the registrations and even rewrite the score. When Marie Prestat played Franck’s Pièce héroïque on the studio organ at the conservatory, since it had no 16′ stops in the manuals, she had to play the piece’s theme in octaves in the manuals, leaving out a low B that did not exist.¹⁰⁹ As Rollin Smith indicated, according to Franck’s private student, R. Huntington Woodman, Franck did deal with details such as touch because he insisted that in measure 27 of this piece, the eighth notes should be played with “a crisp, short, staccato” (Example 3).¹¹⁰

Organists must adapt the tempo of his Prélude, Fugue et Variation, originally written for piano and harmonium, to the acoustics in churches and concert halls. André Marchal (1894–1980), who had studied with Adolphe Marty and Albert Mahaut at the Institute for Blind Youth from 1909 until 1911, played Franck’s works in a very supple and expressive manner. A true artist never plays music in the same manner, but continually evolves and adapts each of his interpretations to each particular situation, to each organ, and to the building’s acoustics. This is shown in Tournemire’s annotated scores.

Like their master, Franck’s students certainly played his works in accordance with their own personalities, each organ, and acoustic, but always very musically. Vital musical expression cannot be acquired by imitating others, but by understanding and expressing music freely and with conviction. According to Tournemire, Franck admonished his students “not to imitate him, but to search within oneself.”¹¹² During his lessons, his only criteria, “I love it” and “I don’t love it,” made his students understand that music is a science of producing and hearing pleasant, enchanting sounds that deeply touch and transform humanity.

Each student’s repertoire is very interesting. To give one example, Georges Verschneider had earned no organ prizes because he had difficulty improvising, and his whitlow illness had prevented him playing his exam on June 24, 1878. Nonetheless, Franck found him to be a very interesting student and really appreciated his hard work, his distinctive interpretations, and his innovative repertoire. During his six years in Franck’s class (1873–1879), in addition to the above mentioned three Franck pieces, he played the following works during his exams: Bach’s Fugue in C Minor, BWV 546, the virtuosic Fantasy and Fugue in G Minor, BWV 542, and his Prelude and Fugue in B Minor, BWV 544 (each of these four pieces in separate exams), as well as the flamboyant Toccata in F Major, BWV 540. An Alsatian, he was Franck’s first student to play the first movement of Sonata in E-flat, BWV 525, the chorale, O Lamm Gottes, unschuldig, BWV 656, and Mendelssohn’s Sonata III and Sonata VI.

In order to play this repertoire, Franck’s students had already acquired an excellent piano technique when they had entered his class, but they absolutely needed to acquire an excellent pedal technique as well. Since the Paris Conservatory had no practice instruments and they could not rehearse in churches, they were obliged to practice on pianos equipped with pedalboards. Pierre Érard began to rent them out in 1873.¹¹³ Louis Vierne’s aunt Colin had purchased a Pleyel pedalboard for him in 1889, the year he had begun to attend Franck’s class.¹¹⁴ In addition, Franck’s students could practice in piano and organ manufacturing firms.¹¹⁵

According to Henri Büsser, “To tell the truth, Franck neglected to teach technique, notably that of the pedalboard.” (À dire vrai, l’enseignement technique était assez négligé, notamment l’étude du pédalier.)¹¹⁶ Was this true? While no written technical organ method by Franck is known, his approach to acquiring an excellent pedal technique is nonetheless revealed in Adolphe Marty’s L’art de la pédale du grand orgue (Art of the Pedal for the Great Organ), published in 1891 and dedicated “To my Master, Monsieur César Franck, Organ Professor at the National Conservatory in Paris.”¹¹⁷ In its preface Marty explains that,

without the pedal, the sound of the Grand Organ is lacking in roundness and a full sonority, also because the more one is a walking virtuoso, the more one can achieve the true style of the organ, thus being able to play together all of its harmonic voices, because after all the execution of modern compositions especially requires a deep knowledge of manipulating this part of the organ.¹¹⁸

Divided into four series, the first series presents twenty-five exercises destined to give suppleness and technique to the pedal lines played by both feet, learning glissandi and substitutions. The second series deals with the technique of the toes, in order to play large intervals with the same foot, then presents the chromatic scale, the trill, and arpeggios. Highly musical, a manual accompaniment is added to each exercise that enables students to think harmonically. It was expected that each should be transposed into all major and minor keys (see Example 4).

In the third series, one learns how to play octaves. The fourth series deals with the independence of the two feet, glissandi, and substitutions, as well as scales and arpeggios, which should be practiced in fragments. Above all, this method was not based on plainchant and was not applied to the harmonium, as in École d’orgue of Lemmens, but was closer in spirit to Alkan’s highly virtuosic Douze Études pour les Pieds Seulement (Twelve Etudes for the Feet Alone, published by Richault, ca. 1866), which were dedicated to Louis James Alfred Lefébure-Wély, as was Franck’s Final with its long pedal solos. The two brief excerpts, Examples 5 and 6, illustrate the polyrhythms found in the pedal studies by Alkan and by Marty.

Franck’s students possibly practiced on Charles-Valentin Alkan’s grand concert piano equipped with a pedalboard in Pierre Érard’s workshop at 11–13, rue du Mail, located near Notre-Dame-des-Victoires Church. According to Albert Mahaud, they attended a performance of Franck’s Prélude, Choral et Fugue for piano there.¹²² In 1818 the Érard piano builders erected a concert hall on the ground floor of their mansion, now located on the right side of 13, rue du Mail. On January 10, 1839, Franck performed a traditional piano concert there, and in 1843 his Trio in F-sharp Minor, dedicated to S. M. le Roi des Belges (His Majesty, the King of Belgium). In November 1845 his Ruth was performed there.

In 1860 a second prestigious concert hall with 300 seats was built at the far end of this building. In 1877 Charles Garnier restored its ceiling and enlarged it to 572 seats. Both halls had excellent acoustics. On March 31, 1883, a concert given by the National Society of Music conducted by Édouard Colonne premiered two orchestral symphonic poems: César Franck’s Le Chasseur maudit (The Accursed Huntsman) and Viviane, opus 5, by his student Ernest Chausson. In 1894 when Louis Vierne assisted Widor’s organ class, he gave lessons on Alkan’s piano, which had remained there after his death in 1888.¹²³ Immediately following Alkan’s death, Franck expressed his immense gratitude to him by arranging ten of his keyboard pieces for organ, which were published in Paris by Richault in 1889: seven excerpts, numbers 1, 2, 5, 6, 8, 9, and 11, of his 13 Prières, opus 64, for piano with a pedalboard, dedicated to Pierre Érard (Richault, 1866); two (numbers 3 and 7) of his 11 Grands Préludes, opus 66, for piano with a pedalboard, dedicated to C. A. Franck (Richault, published in 1866); as well number 3 of his 11 Pièces dans le style religieux, opus 72, for harmonium, dedicated to Simon Richault (Richault, published in 1867).

How did César Franck’s teaching differ from that of Charles-Marie Widor? Widor had warned Louis Vierne about the attacks by Franck’s former pupils against his reforms of their organ technique and confided to him: “Concerning improvisation, I have nothing to change from what Franck taught you: he was the greatest improviser of his time . . . only some details in the forms, nothing in the procedures.”¹²⁴ For Vierne, while Franck was more severe in his requirements for the fugue than Widor, his interest in detailed melodic invention, harmonic discoveries, and subtle modulations all promoted the musical expression.

For Widor, being a musician was not enough: one must be a virtuoso as well. In June 1891, before Jules Bouval played his exam, Widor mentioned that unfortunately he had not acquired a good organ technique. However, in January 1892 he observed that he had gained the virtuosity that he had lacked during the preceding year. Henri Libert, who played mechanically, became an intelligent musician and an excellent virtuoso, performing Bach’s Toccata in F Major in January 1892. In 1894 he won a first prize in organ, the same year as Louis Vierne.

In addition, Widor had encouraged his students to compete for the Grand Prix de Rome: Paul Ternisien, Jules Bouval, and Henri Büsser, who won it in 1893. However, none of them won an organ prize at the Paris Conservatory. In January 1892 Ternisien was extremely nervous and lost control of himself during his exam as he played Franck’s Cantabile. Bouval was so upset that he did not compete in June 1894. Büsser, although he was very intelligent and a good musician, had difficulty improvising. Contrary to Widor, who was to become the Secrétaire Perpétuel of the Institut de France in July 1914, Franck had discouraged some of his students from attempting to go to Rome. In 1884, while Claude Debussy had won the Grand Prix de Rome, Franck’s organ student, Henri Kaiser, had only received his first prize in organ. Only two of his “true” organ students, Samuel Rousseau and Gabriel Pierné, obtained the Grand Prix de Rome, in 1878 and 1882.¹²⁵ Tournemire later expressed his gratitude to Franck for having discouraged him to follow this path:

The most beautiful nature that I ever met, during my long career, was naturally that of Franck. I owe him my direction and how much I bless him each day for having advised me, when I began, to not dream of the Prix de Rome. . . . Since then, I have had the time to reflect. . . . I wonder what I would have become if I had had the disrespect to not follow his advice. . . . I would have undoubtedly made conventional music, false theater, and I would have been lost . . . irremediably.¹²⁶

César Franck’s artistic legacy

Many of Franck’s organ students at the Paris Conservatory composed works in various genres. The following exhaustive list will illustrate this.

Organ works: Alfred Bachelet, Édouard Bopp, Joséphine Boulay, Jules Bouval, Henri Büsser, Auguste Chapuis, Hedwige Chrétien (even though she was not a liturgical organist), Henri Dallier, Georges Deslandres, Vincent d’Indy, Dynam-Victor Fumet, Louis Ganne, Georges Guiraud, Georges Hüe, Henri Letocart, Henri Libert, Adolphe Marty, Gabriel Pierné, Marie Prestat, Paul Rougnon, Marcel Rouher, Samuel Rousseau, Francis Thomé, Charles Tournemire, Paul Vidal, Louis Vierne, and Paul Wachs.

Religious vocal music: Joséphine Boulay, Georges Guiraud, Henri Letocart, Albert Pillard, Marcel Rouher, Achille Runner, Arnal de Serres, and Théophile Sourilas.

Vocal works: Hedwige Chrétien.

Piano works: Bazile Benoît, Hedwige Chrétien, Aimé Féry, Louis Frémaux, Georges Guiraud, and Carlos Mesquita.

Works for harmonium and piano: Marie Prestat and Théophile Sourilas.

Chamber music: Auguste Chapuis, Hedwige Chrétien, Jean-Joseph Jemain, and Marie Prestat.

Melodies: Amédée Dutacq, Georges Guiraud, Jean-Joseph Jemain, Henri Letocart, Carlos Mesquita, Albert Pillard, Marcel Rouher, Achille Runner, Arnal de Serres, Paul Ternisien, and Paul Wachs.

Light music: Émile Fournier.

Lyrical works: Alfred Bachelet, Émile Fournier, Louis Frémaux, Jean-Joseph Jemain, and Marie Prestat.

Operettas: Louis Frémaux and Louis Ganne.

Symphonic works: Hedwige Chrétien, Jean-Joseph Jemain, Henri Letocart, and Paul Wachs.

Music for all genres: Camille Benoît, Pierre de Bréville, Henri Büsser, Auguste Chapuis, Henri Dallier, Vincent d’Indy, Cesarino Galeotti, Lucien Grandjany, Georges Hüe, Henri Kaiser, Adolphe Marty, Gabriel Pierné, Marie Renaud, Paul Rougnon, Samuel Rousseau, Jean-Ferdinand Schneider, Théophile Sourilas, Francis Thomé, Charles Tournemire, and Louis Vierne.

Editions of early music: Auguste Chapuis and Vincent d’Indy (Rameau), Jean-Joseph Jemain (Baroque works), and Henri Letocart (Jean-Baptiste Lully).

Transcriptions: Henri Büsser, Charles Tournemire, Louis Vierne, and Paul Wachs.

Louis Vierne had transcribed for organ five of Franck’s Pieces for Harmonium (Pérégally et Parvy, 1901/Leduc, 1905); Charles Tournemire transcribed his “March” and “Prelude” of the Second Act of Ghiselle, as well as the Chanson de l’Hermine d’Hulda (Choudens, 1927).

Many of Franck’s students, in addition to Adolphe Marty and Charles Tournemire, were authors of pedagogical music methods, and others were administrators in conservatories. Some of Franck’s students wrote books on harmony (André-Paul Burgat) or solfège manuals (Marie Renaud, Paul Rougnon). Paul Wachs wrote a manual on organ improvisation, “in homage to his Master Monsieur César Franck, Organ Professor at the Paris Conservatory,” as well as a treatise on plainchant, written for organists who accompany the liturgy.¹²⁷ Some were members of the Institut de France: Georges Hüe, Officier d’Académie; André Paul Burgat; Louis Ganne, president of Société des auteurs, compositeurs, et éditeurs de musique. Auguste Chapuis was a music inspector. Jean-Joseph Jemain and Camille Benoît were music critics. Lucien Grandjany, Georges Guiraud, Georges Marty, Samuel Rousseau, and Vincent d’Indy were choir directors. Louis Ganne, Jean-Joseph Jemain, Georges Marty, Gabriel Pierné, and Vincent d’Indy were orchestral conductors. Alfred Bachelet succeeded Guy Ropartz as director of the Nancy Conservatory, who had been there from 1894 until 1919 before directing the Strasbourg Conservatory from 1919 until 1929. Some became inspectors of music in the city of Paris, such as Auguste Chapuis (1895–1928).

Some of Franck’s other students became music professors. Georges Guiraud taught harmony at the Toulouse Conservatory from 1912 until 1928. Bruno Maurel taught music in Marseille. Jean-Joseph Jemain was a piano professor at the Lyon Conservatory from 1888 to 1901. In Parisian schools Paul Jeannin taught music and Césarino Galeotti taught piano. Henri Dallier taught organ at the Niedermeyer School beginning in 1905. Henri Libert taught organ there as well as at the American Conservatory in 1937.

At the Paris Conservatory, Paul Rougnon taught solfège; Marie Renaud (1876–1893), Lucien Grandjany (1883), Paul Vidal (1884), Hedwige Chrétien (in the class for women, 1890–1892), Henri Kaiser (1891), and Georges Bondon (1898) taught there. Louis Vierne assisted both Charles-Marie Widor and Alexandre Guilmant’s organ classes (1894–1911). Paul Vidal taught accompaniment at the piano (1886) and composition (1910) there. Georges Marty taught the vocal ensemble class (1892) and harmony (1904). Both Auguste Chapuis (1894) and Henri Dallier (1908–1928) taught harmony to women: their student, Nadia Boulanger, then trained musicians from all over the world at the American Conservatory in Fontainebleau. Henri Büsser was a professor of vocal ensembles (1904–1930) and composition (1930–1948) there; his student, Gaston Litaize, highly appreciated his remarkable teaching. Like César Franck, Büsser recommended his students to “work, work, always work.”¹²⁸ Charles Tournemire taught chamber music there (1928–1935). In 1935 he wrote in a rather severe manner to his private organ student from Liège, Pierre Froidebise, as his own master César Franck had corrected him:

I read your music with interest. You have ideas, many ideas. You are only missing the art of presenting them with more subtlety. . . . 
I am returning your works with several corrections. . . . Accept them!! Don’t get tense!! When for the first time, César Franck corrected my works at the beginning, I found that odious!!? Because he dared to alter my harmonies. . . . And since, I have acknowledged the soundness of his remarks! This may be learned. You have what may not be learned. Thank God. . . .¹²⁹
 

From 1891–1899, Arthur Coquard, Franck’s former composition student,¹³⁰ directed the National Institute for Blind Youth, where three of César Franck’s students also perpetuated his legacy: Adolphe Marty, Albert Mahaut, and Joséphine Boulay. When Adolphe Marty was organ professor there (1888–1930), he opened up new horizons to an entire generation of blind organists, teaching them counterpoint and fugue, improvisation, and interpretation of the works of J. S. Bach. According to Louis Vierne, his open-minded and enthusiastic manner of teaching illustrated that of his master, César Franck: “I found joy with my professors. Marty, always very affectionate, treated me like a friend, not like a student. He continued to largely make me profit from his experience as a student at the Conservatory and predicted a likely success in this establishment.”¹³¹

Albert Mahaut, who taught harmony there (1889–1924), wrote the following just after Franck was buried at the Grand-Montrouge Cemetery on November 10, 1890: “We had encircled a tomb, it is true, but this tomb ought to be glorious. . . . We gathered courage to work, each in our sphere, to the triumph of the master who, unknown during his lifetime, ought to be soon the object of enthusiastic acclamations.”¹³²

Eight years after Franck’s death, Albert Mahaut was the first to perform Franck’s entire twelve organ pieces at the Trocadéro on April 28, 1898, and again in 1899. He also played them at Saint-Léon Church in Nancy on March 24 and 27, 1905, the year he wrote his book, César Franck, and continued to perform them throughout his life. During his fifty-three years of volunteer social work for the Valentin Haüy Association for the Blind (1890–1943),¹³³ he developed the musical notation in Braille and encouraged young blind organists throughout France to study in Paris. Josephine Boulay taught harmony and piano there from 1888 to 1925. This institution produced hundreds of other future church musicians, music professors, and piano tuners. André Marchal, Augustin Barié, Gaston Litaize, and Jean Langlais faithfully transmitted the teaching principles of Adolphe Marty and Albert Mahaud to an entire generation of blind organists, among them: Xavier Dufresse, Jean-Pierre Leguay, Antoine Reboulot, Georges Robert, and Louis Thiry. These then transmitted their knowledge to their own students. The organ professor there since 2002, Dominique Levacque, had studied in Rouen with Louis Thiry. Gaston Litaize later taught at the conservatory in Saint-Maur (1974–1990), where he was succeeded by his organ student, Olivier Latry, who, in 1985, became the youngest titular organist at the Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris and, in 1995, was appointed organ professor at the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique in Paris. Litaize’s student, Éric Lebrun, succeeded Olivier Latry at the Saint-Maur Conservatory.

In 1894 Charles Bordes, with the collaboration of Vincent d’Indy and Alexandre Guilmant, founded the Schola Cantorum and taught choral direction there. Vincent d’Indy directed it from 1900 to 1931. Pierre de Bréville taught counterpoint from 1898 to 1902. Jean-Joseph Jemain was a piano professor beginning in 1901. Marie Prestat taught organ in 1901 and 1902 and also piano from 1901 until 1922. Louis Vierne taught organ there (1911–ca. 1925). Opposed to the academic programs at the Paris Conservatory and known for its high artistic morals, the Schola Cantorum’s monthly review, La Tribune de Saint-Gervais, published articles on religious music, as had the Niedermeyer School. After d’Indy’s death in 1931, four of Franck’s composition students who were artistic advisers there—Gabriel Pierné, Paul Dukas, Guy Ropartz, and Pierre de Bréville—along with Albert Roussel, resigned and founded the École César Franck on January 7, 1935. Louis d’Arnal de Serres directed it until 1942 according to the spirit of Franck, with strictness and musicality. Among Édouard Souberbielle’s organ students there, Michel Chapuis became organ professor at the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique in Paris from 1986 to 1995.

Finally, in accordance with an 1870 modification of Article 29 at the Paris Conservatory, which had stipulated that the organ should be taught both technically and liturgically,¹³⁴ Franck had inspired and trained an entire generation of church musicians in Paris; several indications concerning his private students are provided in brackets:¹³⁵

Choirmasters and organists at:

La Madeleine: Achille Runner (1904–1938);

Sainte-Anne-de-la-Maison-Blanche: Dynam-Victor Fumet (1914 or 1917–1948);

Saint-Denis-de-la-Chapelle: Joseph Humblot (c. 1873–1903).

Choirmasters at:

Notre-Dame d’Auteuil: Stéphane Gaurion;

Sainte-Clotilde: Stéphane Gaurion (1869?–1875),¹³⁶ Samuel Rousseau (1882–1904)¹³⁷;

Saint-Esprit Reformed Protestant Church: Jean-Joseph Jemain (beginning in 1901);

Saint-Gervais: Charles Bordes (1890–1902), where he founded the Chanteurs de Saint-Gervais in 1892;

Saint-Roch: Louis Landry (beginning in 1897)¹³⁸;

Saint-Vincent-de-Paul: Marcel Rouher (1890–1900).

Choir accompanists:

Sainte-Clotilde: Stéphane Gaurion (1863?–1869), Samuel Rousseau (1870–1878, 1881–1882); Georges Verschneider (1882?–ca. 1891); Dynam-Victor Fumet (1884, in the Chapelle de Jésus-Enfant, also known as the Catechism Chapel);

Saint-Eugène: Albert Pillard (1900);

Sainte-Marie des Batignolles: Georges Deslandres (ca. 1870);

Saint-Germain l’Auxerrois: Marcel Rouher (1882–1910);

Saint-Philippe-du-Roule: Georges Bondon (in 1900);

Saint-Vincent-de-Paul: François Pinot (1887–1891, succeeding Léon Boëllmann), Lucien Grandjany (1891–1892), and Henri Letocart (1892–1900).

Titular organists at:

La Madeleine: Henri Dallier (1905–1934), for whom Achille Runner substituted;

Notre-Dame Cathedral: Louis Vierne (1900–1937);

Notre-Dame-des-Champs: Auguste Chapuis (1884–1888);

Sainte-Clotilde: Gabriel Pierné (1890–1898); Charles Tournemire (1898–1939;

Sainte-Trinité: Marie Prestat substituted for Alexandre Guilmant on August 30, 1896;

Saint-Eustache: Henri Dallier (1878–1905);

Saint-François Xavier: Albert Renaud (1879–1891), Adolphe Marty (1891–1941);

Saint-Germain l’Auxerrois: Marcel Rouher (1910–1913);

Saint-Jean-Saint-François: Georges Guiraud (1889–1896) [Camille Rage (1906–1919?)];

Saint-Jean-Baptiste de Grenelle: Albert Pillard (1929);

Saint-Joseph’s English-speaking Catholic Church: Louis de Serres;

Saint-Leu-Saint-Gilles: Camille Rage (1901–1906);

Saint-Louis-en-l’Île: François Pinot;

Saint-Mérri: Paul Wachs (1874–1896);

Saint-Philippe-du-Roule: Cesarino Galeotti;

Saint-Pierre-de-Chaillot: Jules Bouval (1900–1914);

Saint-Roch: Auguste Chapuis (1888–1906);

Saint-Sulpice: Louis Vierne substituted for Charles-Marie Widor (1892–1890);

Saint-Vincent-de-Paul: Albert Mahaut (1897–1899), succeeded Léon Boëllmann.

Some played in Parisian suburbs at:

Charenton-le-Pont: Georges Guiraud;

in Nogent-sur-Marne: Charles Bordes, organist and choirmaster (1887–1890);

Saint-Clodoald in Saint-Cloud: Henri Büsser (1892–1906) [Bruno Maurel substituted for him (1893–1895)];

Saint-Nicolas in Issy-les-Moulineaux: Louis Ganne (in 1882);

in Meudon: Albert Mahaut (1888);

in Saint-Leu-la-Forêt: Vincent d’Indy (1874);

Saint-Pierre in Montrouge: Albert Mahaut (1892–1897);

Saint-Pierre in Neuilly: Henri Letocart (1900–1944), organist and choirmaster; director of the chorale society, Amis des Cathédrale [Friends of the Cathedral];

Saint-Denis Basilica: Henri Libert (1896–1937).

Some of his students were active as organists in provincial cities, at:

Saint-Pierre in Dreux: Henri Huvey (1887–1944); succeeded by his daughter Anne-Marie Huvey (1944–2005);

Saint-Paul in Orléans: Adolphe Marty (1887–1891);

Saint-Germain in Rennes: Charles-Auguste Collin;

Saint-Pierre in Rennes: Albert Renaud (1873–1878);

Saint-Germain in Saint-Germain-en-Laye: Albert Renaud (1891–1924), who had succeeded Saint-René Taillandier;

Saint-Rémy-de-Provence: Saint-René Taillandier (1891–1931?);

Basilica in Saint-Quentin: Henri Rougnon (until 1934);

Saint-Pierre in Toulouse: Georges Guiraud (1896–1912);

Saint-Sernin in Toulouse: Georges Guiraud (1912–1928);

His private organ student, Raymond Huntington Woodman, was organist and choirmaster at First Presbyterian Church in Brooklyn, New York (1880–1941).

Among Franck’s disciples who played at Sainte-Clotilde Basilica in Paris, Samuel Rousseau possibly accompanied the choir before he was appointed choir organist in 1877. He then left for Rome after winning the Grand Prix de Rome. On February 20, 1888, Georges Verschneider, Franck, Dubois, and Rousseau inaugurated the new Merklin choir organ.¹³⁹ Rousseau’s Libera me, premiered in 1885, was played during Franck’s funeral. His Fantaisie, opus 73 (1889, published in 1894), which closely resembles Franck’s Trois Chorals, was dedicated “to the memory of his dear Master, César Franck.”¹⁴⁰ After César’s death, his son Georges Franck entrusted him with the orchestration of the third act of Ghiselle and the revision of Hulda. In 1884 Franck had turned over the accompaniments in the Catechism Chapel of Sainte-Clotilde to Dynam-Victor Fumet.¹⁴¹ Surnamed “Dynam” due to his “dynamite playing,” he was appreciated by Franck for his original spirit, and this had encouraged him: “I was still in César Franck’s organ class . . . when I sought to make known a very rich music; also, I invented music with one beat time so that each beat rested on a rich harmony. The purpose of art . . . is to humanize the universal life, that is to say, to render it proportional to mankind’s fallen kingdom.”¹⁴² Gabriel Pierné began to substitute for Franck in 1882 and became his successor (1890–1898).

Charles Tournemire, a true dignified disciple of Franck, succeeded Gabriel Pierné (1898–1939). In 1910 he dedicated his Triple Choral (Sancta Trinitas), opus 41, “to the memory of my venerable Master César Franck.” In 1930 and 1931 he became the first organist to record at Sainte-Clotilde Basilica for Polydor some of Franck’s works (Cantabile, Chant de la Creuse, Noël angevin, and Choral in A Minor) as well as five of his own improvisations (Petite Rapsodie improvisée, Cantilène improvisé, Improvisation sur le Te Deum, Fantaisie-improvisation sur l’Ave Maris Stella, and Choral-Improvisation sur le Victimae Paschali), proving that interpretation and improvisation are inseparable.¹⁴³ Tournemire also prepared an edition of Franck’s L’Organiste and Pièces Posthumes with his own fingerings, metronome markings, and annotations (Enoch, 1933: volume 2, and 1934: volume 1). Maurice Emmanuel, Franck’s disciple who had not been his student, was choirmaster at Sainte-Clotilde from 1904 to 1907, thus described Tournemire’s dignified succession to his master César Franck:

After the service had ended, the parishioners fled the church during the “postludes,” which were true treasures that César Franck played for them. Have times changed? Do the parishioners hear the artist who today [1926], through a close bond between the liturgy and art, and equally respecting the religious and musical functions, edified them on the themes taken from the service of the day, as noble, as disciplined in their structure as those by César Franck, of whom he was one of his last students? His master bequeathed to him the gifts of these contemplative and impassioned improvisations, sometimes calm, sometimes tumultuous, and which are like mystical dramas conceived in the secret recesses of the soul. The successor of the Master of the Béatitudes also retreats to the contemplation of labor, and comes out of his reserve only to give flight to the thousand voices of his organ, in a lyrical exhilaration, with which the congregation seems to associate little. . . .¹⁴⁴

During the inauguration of a monument in homage to César Franck in the small garden placed in front of Sainte-Clotilde Church on October 22, 1904, named as the Square Samuel-Rousseau in 1935, Théodore Dubois, director of the Paris Conservatory since 1896, expressed the Conservatory’s gratitude to César Franck:

If there was, as one had pretended, some coldness, or rather some indifference of certain colleagues of César Franck, I ignore this, and even I do not believe it, but I insist on officially proclaiming that the Conservatory is very proud to have counted among its professors such an artist, and the actual director considers it a great honor to have been his friend and colleague during all these years. And in my name and in the name of the Conservatory, I bring here a moving homage of admiration to the memory of a noble and powerful artist to whom we erect this monument today.¹⁴⁵

Conclusion

An ardent, prolific music teacher with an open-minded spirit, César Franck faithfully accomplished his duties as an organ professor at the Paris Conservatory. Due to a lack of funds, its Cavaillé-Coll organs were limited, but they were equipped with a thirty-note pedalboard, indispensable to playing Bach and contemporary works. In this institution founded on the principles of liberty, equality, and fraternity, he respected his students, understood their potential, gave them practical advice, encouraged them to constantly work with rigor, and guided them with suppleness in the right direction.

To become accomplished artistic organists and excellent church musicians, Franck’s students needed to acquire a solid pedal technique, internalize their musicianship by memorizing their repertoire, and study harmony, counterpoint, fugue, and composition to be able to realize subtle plainchant accompaniments and master the art of improvisation, which helped them to compose. His private organ and composition students who audited his class benefited from his wise advice. Johann Sebastian Bach’s music inspired and influenced the improvisations and compositions of both the master and his students. Franck’s impassioned quest for artistic beauty and spiritual approach to teaching produced a lasting legacy.

Notes

87. Jacques Viret, “César Franck vu par ses élèves,” La Tribune de l’Orgue, 1990, No. 3, page 11, quoted in Fauquet, page 477.

88. Prepared with A. N., AJ37 283 and Russell Stinson, J. S. Bach at His Royal Instrument (New York: Oxford University Press 2021), pages 159–172.

89. Karen Hastings, “New Franck Fingerings Brought to Light,” The American Organist (December 1990), pages 92–101.

90. Stinson, page 74.

91. Constance Himelfarb, “Chronologie,” in Charles-Valentin Alkan, sous la direction de Brigitte François-Sappey (Paris: Arthème Fayard, 1991), page 21.

92. Ibid.

93. Vallas, “César Franck,” Histoire de la musique, Encyclopédie de la Pléiade (Paris: Gallimard, 1960), page 894, and Stinson, pages 81–88.

94. Joël-Marie Fauquet and Antoine Hennion, La grandeur de Bach (Paris: Arthème Fayard, 2000), page 115.

95. Cited in Fauquet and Hennion, page 115. See René de Récy, “Jean-Sébastien Bach et ses derniers biographes,” Revue des deux mondes (September 15, 1885), pages 406–427.

96. Mel Bonis, Souvenirs et Réflexions (Paris: Éditions du Nant d’Enfer, s.d.), page 38, quoted by Norbert Dufourcq in L’Orgue, No. 185 (1983), page 5, by Fauquet, page 574, and by Fauquet and Hennion, page 132.

97. Fauquet, page 485.

98. Tournemire, page 70. After Franck’s death, Tournemire studied composition with Vincent d’Indy at the Schola Cantorum.

99. Tournemire, page 72.

100. Vallas, page 244.

101. On June 1, 1889, Henri Dallier performed Prélude, Fugue et Variation at the Trocadéro for the World’s Fair.

102. Tournemire, page 24.

103. Jean Langlais, “Propos sur le style de César Franck dans son œuvre pour orgue,” Jeunesse et Orgue (Automne 1878, page 6), mentioned in Smith, page 134.

104. Tournemire, page 23.

105. Tournemire, page 21.

106. Tournemire, page 25.

107. Tournemire, page 26. For more information on Franck’s metronomic markings, see Rollin Smith in The American Organist (September 2003), pages 59–60.

108. Maurice Duruflé, “Notes to the Performer,” César Franck, Volume IV, Les Trois Chorals (Paris: Durand & Cie, D. & F. 13.794), undated.

109. Viret, page 11, cited in Fauquet, page 179.

110. Winslow Cheney, “A Lesson in Playing Franck: Measure-by-Measure Outline of Technical Details Involved in Attaining an Artistic Interpretation of Pièce héroïque,” The American Organist (August 1937), page 264.

111. César Franck, Pièce héroïque, measure 27 (Paris, September 19, 1878), B. N. Music Department, Ms. 20151 (3), page 2.

112. Tournemire, page 63.

113. See François Sabatier, “L’œuvre d’orgue et de piano-pédalier,” in Charles Valentin Alkan, 233, and in Georges Guillard, “Le piano-pédalier,” R. I. M. F., No. 13, February 1984.

114. Vierne, Mes Souvenirs, page 20.

115. According to Gustave Lyon, “Letter to Ambroise Thomas,” October 31, 1893, A. N., AJ37 81 12. In 1893, this director of the Pleyel, Wolff et Cie. firm opened his workshop to Widor’s students and gave such a pedalboard to the Conservatory.

116. Büsser, pages 33–34.

117. Marty, L’Art de la Pédale du Grand Orgue (Paris: Mackar et Noël, 1891/Philippo et M. Combre, 1958), on the cover. It was printed in braille just after Franck’s death.

118. Published in Marty, page 1.

119. Published in Marty, page 22.

120. Published in Sabatier, page 240.

121. Published in Marty, page 37.

122. Mahaut, “Souvenirs personnels sur César Franck,” Bibliothèque Valentin Haüy in Paris, MTP138, 4066, page 587. This work was composed in 1884.

123. Vierne, Journal, page 165.

124. Vierne, Journal, page 164.

125. See Fauquet, page 491.

126. Tournemire, “Letter to Alice Lesur,” L’Herbe, September 21, 1930, Collection Christian Lesur, published in “Mémoires de Charles Tournemire,” Critical Edition by Jean-Marc Leblanc, L’Orgue, No. 321–324, 2018—I–IV, XXI. At least three of Franck’s organ students received the Grand Prix de Rome: Samuel Rousseau (1878), Gabriel Pierné (1882), and Henri Büsser (1893).

127. Paul Wachs, L’organiste improvisateur: traité d’improvisation, Paris, Schott (1878) and Petit traité de plain-chant, Énoch (undated).

128. Alain Litaize, Fantaisie et Fugue sur le nom de Gaston LITAIZE, Souvenirs et témoignages (Sampzon: Delatour France, 2012), page 38.

129. Tournemire, letter to Pierre Froidebise, April 17, 1935, published in Pierre Froidebise, “Grande rencontre: Charles Tournemire,” Exposition itinérante, Art & Orgue en Wallonie, undated, page 13. Pierre Froidebise took private organ and composition lessons with Charles Tournemire in his Parisian home beginning in April 1935.

130. Arthur Coquard (1846–1910), a composer, also earned a Doctor in Law degree and was a music critic for Le Temps and L’Écho de Paris. He wrote Franck in 1890.

131. Vierne, Journal II, page 157.

132. Mahaut, page 588. Two years later, his body was transferred to the Montparnasse Cemetery.

133. This association was founded in 1889 by Maurice de la Sizeranne. Albert Mahaut succeeded him as its director (1918–1943).

134. See Fauquet, page 476.

135. This list was established thanks to Pierre Guillot, Dictionnaire des organistes français des XIXe et XXe siècles (Sprimont, 2003), and the assistance of Vincent Thauziès from the Archives Historiques de l’Archevêché de Paris.

136. See Denis Havard de la Montagne and Carolyn Shuster Fournier, “Maîtres de chapelle et organistes de la Basilique Sainte-Clotilde,” in “La Tradition musicale de la Basilique Sainte-Clotilde de Paris,” L’Orgue, No. 278–279, 2007—II–III, page 5.

137. Samuel Rousseau also directed the women’s choir at the Société des Concerts at the Paris Conservatory.

138. He was also a choir director at the Opéra-Comique.

139. Cf. Smith, page 45.

140. Kurt Lueders, “Samuel Rousseau: simple figure marginale ou témoin privilégié d’un ‘Esprit Sainte-Clotilde’?,” in Carolyn Shuster Fournier, L’Orgue, No. 278–279, 2007—II–III, page 23.

141. According to Denis Havard de la Montagne, who had spoken with D.-V. Fumet’s organ student, Odette Allouard-Carny, in March 2007 Sainte-Clotilde’s annexed Catechism Chapel, located at 29, rue Las-Cases, had been inaugurated in 1881. According to Shuster Fournier, page 159, from 1861–1885 their choir was accompanied on a Victor Mustel harmonium, previously placed in their Sainte-Valère annexed chapel (rue de Bourgogne). According to Smith, page 43, around 1885 this parish acquired another Victor Mustel harmonium, a Model K with 19 stops. In 1888 a fourteen-stop Merklin choir organ was installed in Sainte-Clotilde’s chancel area. Thanks to its electro-pneumatic action, it was divided into two elevated sections in the side arches of the sanctuary; its console was located on the left side, at the end of the choir stalls, and its bellows were placed behind the high altar.

142. Philippe Rambaud, “D.-V. Fumet,” Bibliothèque des Lettres françaises, No. 4, February 15, 1914, published in Pierre Guillot, 223.

143. See Joël-Marie Fauquet, Catalogue de l’œuvre de Charles Tournemire (Geneva: Minkoff, 1979), page 99. These five improvisations were reconstituted by Tournemire’s disciple Maurice Duruflé and published by Durand in 1958.

144. Emmanuel, page 124.

145. Julien Tiersot, “Inauguration du monument de César Franck,” Le Ménestrel, No. 44 (October 30, 1904), page 34, and in Théodore Dubois, Souvenirs de ma vie, annotated by Christine Collette-Kléo (Lyon: Symétrie, 2009), page 194.

Editor’s note: an earlier version of this article, “César Francks orgelklas aan het Parijse conservatorium, zijn gepassioneerde zoektocht naar artistieke schoonheid,” appeared in Orgelkunst, issue 179, 2022, pages 168–191.

By Brian F. Gurley

Brian F. Gurley is the choirmaster and director of music at the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception in Albany, New York.

The Conference of Roman Catholic Cathedral Musicians (CRCCM) met at the Cathedral of Christ the Light in Oakland, California, for its thirty-seventh annual gathering. Rudy de Vos, director of music, designed and directed the gathering with John Renke, organist and director of cathedral operations; Denise Kogler, cathedral event operations manager; and the CRCCM steering committee.

Monday, January 6

The conference began with solemn Vespers at the cathedral with the Most Reverend Michael C. Barber, S.J., Bishop of Oakland, presiding. Organ music included La Nativité by Jean Langlais and Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern, op. 67, no. 49, by Max Reger. Choral repertoire included Magnificat in B-flat Major by Philip Moore and Who Comes by Leo Nestor.

The Cathedral of Christ the Light was constructed in 2008 in the late twentieth-century abstract style by Craig W. Hartman of the San Francisco-based architecture firm Skidmore, Owens, and Merrill. Notable architectural features of the cathedral include its footprint of a vesica piscis (a shape formed by the intersection of two circles of the same radius), which evokes the ichthys, a secret symbol of the early church; overlapping panels of rich Douglas fir, which allow light to filter in gently throughout the cathedral; and a stunning pixelated icon of the Christus Pantocrator, a copy of an image from the Cathedral of Notre Dame de Chartres, in France. The Cathedral of Christ the Light is home to the Conroy Memorial Organ, a four-manual, ninety-rank instrument built by Orgues Létourneau, Limitée, in 2010.

After Vespers, the cathedral hosted a reception in the Events Center. Rudy de Vos welcomed everyone to Oakland; Brian Luckner, chair of the CRCCM steering committee, read the CRCCM Statement of Purpose; and conference participants introduced themselves.

Tuesday, January 7

On Tuesday morning at the cathedral, following Morning Prayer, the Very Reverend Brandon Macadaeg, rector of the cathedral, gave a brief tour and outlined the history of the cathedral and the Diocese of Oakland. The morning itinerary continued with a presentation by Crista Miller, director of music at the Co-Cathedral of the Sacred Heart in Houston, Texas, titled “Held in High Esteem: Cathedral Pipe Organs of the 21st Century and a Brief Survey of Their Community Impact.” Miller expounded on the general liturgical responsibilities of cathedral musicians, their opportunities for evangelization, community arts outreach, and pedagogy. She presented a map of the United States, pinpointing forty-three organ installations among 193 Catholic cathedrals and drew connections to contemporary church documents and events relevant to liturgy and music. Miller described organbuilding projects as the musical monuments of cathedral musicians as a “community of practice,” drawing on the educational work of Étienne Wenger. She exhorted her colleagues to insist on the usage of the organ in the liturgy and the performance of organ repertoire, for the sake of exposing church goers to the instrument; she advocated consistent incorporation of congregational hymn singing in the liturgy, for the sake of exposing church goers to beautiful vernacular hymn texts and common practice harmony; she called for new organ projects in southern cathedrals, including a process copy instrument reflecting the rich organ building tradition of Latin America; and she called for an increase in the voices of women and minorities in the community.

Following a coffee break, Bishop Barber delivered his address, “The Urban Cathedral in the 21st Century.” Bishop Barber touched on the challenges of financing and constructing a modern cathedral, making mention of services such as the Malta Medical Clinic and the Pope Francis Legal Clinic; these demonstrate assistance to the poor while committing significant financial resources to new construction. He articulated his understanding of the mission of the Catholic Church: to create a place where people can encounter Jesus Christ, and where Jesus Christ can meet His people. 

For Bishop Barber, this plays out through three practical priorities: the Sunday experience (including beautiful sacred music, intelligent preaching, and sincere fellowship), carrying out corporal and spiritual works of mercy, and the formation of missionary disciples. He underscored that the most important of these practices is the Sunday experience, the Mass, because it is “the place par excellence where we encounter Jesus Christ in the spoken Word, but especially in the Holy Communion, the Holy Eucharist; and people won’t even know there’s something spiritual going on there unless you create that atmosphere, that place where they’re drawn in, and they feel uplifted in heart and soul.” Bishop Barber also addressed the widely debated term “active participation,” advocating a both/and approach to liturgical music, including congregational hymns and refrains as well as choral music that engages the listening dimension of participation. He shared copies of the text of one of St. John Paul II’s ad limina addresses to American bishops, in which the pope discussed the nature of liturgical participation in light of conciliar reforms.

The afternoon sessions began with a talk, “Kinds of Liturgy and Kinds of Music,” given by William Mahrt, president of the Church Music Association of America. Mahrt briefly prefaced his talk by mentioning various church documents regarding music, as well as identifying types of sacred music that are not liturgical. He focused on Gregorian chant, highlighting the often-quoted statement from Sacrosanctum Concilium, giving Gregorian chant principum locum, or “first place” in the liturgy. Mahrt contended that the common English translation “pride of place” falls short of the original Latin, suggesting that “first place” recognizes the paradigmatic quality of Gregorian chant in the Roman Rite. He contextualized his discussion of chant in light of its special suitability to liturgy, its ability to draw the mind and heart of the listener to contemplate eternal verities.

Gregorian chant is “unambiguously sacred” to the point of sounding strange when divorced from the liturgy, such as in a concert setting; “it is not strongly metrical, and so does not represent something tied down to the passage of time, rather it has the ability to evoke something of the eternal, because of that kind of rhythm.” Mahrt highlighted Gregorian chant, arguing that its formal flexibility and ability to set appointed liturgical texts made it particularly well suited to liturgies. Examples of this flexibility would be the more syllabic and neumatic antiphons for processions or the largely melismatic chants for the graduals. 

Regarding the graduals, Mahrt referenced Justus ut palma, in which final unaccented syllables of words are treated with extended melismas, so “the music, in some sense, departs from the text itself the most meditative possible way,” fulfilling the psalm meditation articulated in the General Instruction of the Roman Missal in a more compelling fashion. He called for serious attempts to cultivate sung Masses consistently, in order that the musical commentary given by chant might better accomplish the solemn and beautiful celebration of the liturgy, in contrast to the practice of progressive solemnity, which often entails quantitative changes in the sung elements.

In addition to his service to the Church Music Association of America, Mahrt is associate professor of music at Stanford University and director of the Saint Anne Choir at Saint Thomas Aquinas Parish in Palo Alto, California. The choir specializes in Gregorian chant and Renaissance polyphony.

The first of two CRCCM business meetings followed the address. The afternoon events continued with a composers reading session, during which conference participants had the opportunity to sing through new compositions from their colleagues.

That evening, David Briggs performed an organ concert in the cathedral. The program consisted of Briggs’s own transcription of the “Final” from Symphony No. 3 by Camille Saint-Saëns; Liebster Jesu, wir sind hier, BWV 731, and Pièce d’orgue, BWV 572, by Johann Sebastian Bach; “Andante sostenuto” from Symphonie Gothique, op. 70, by Charles-Marie Widor; Symphonie II, op. 26, by Marcel Dupré; and an original Tryptique Symphonique Improvisée on two submitted themes.

David Briggs is an internationally renowned organist, maintaining a performance schedule of over sixty concerts per year. He currently serves as artist-in-residence at the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine in New York City.

Wednesday, January 8

Following Morning Prayer at the cathedral, David Briggs taught a masterclass on improvisation. Organists who participated in the masterclass were Sebastián Modarelli, music director and organist, Co-Cathedral of Saint John the Evangelist, Rochester, Minnesota; Chris Ganza, choir director and organist at the Cathedral of Saint Paul, Saint Paul, Minnesota; Thomas Fielding, director of music and liturgy at Saint Augustine Cathedral, Kalamazoo, Michigan; and Daniel Sañez, director of music and liturgy at the Cathedral of the Sacred Heart, Richmond, Virginia.

Following the masterclass, Frank La Rocca delivered a presentation titled, “The Apologetics of Beauty: A Musical Theology of the Incarnation.” La Rocca discussed his creative processes as a composer of sacred music, and he referenced his setting of the antiphon O Magnum Mysterium to demonstrate certain compositional techniques. La Rocca addressed that the apologetics of beauty “appeals to the human person’s innate sense of the universal, of the mysterious, of the [spiritual]. A sense that is pre-rational, or perhaps super-rational, and therefore capable of being reached more directly, because it bypasses the skeptical intellect.” As a commissioned composer of sacred works intended for the concert setting, La Rocca reflected on his role of evangelization through beautiful music, even outside the liturgy. “Even in cultural contexts where relativism rules the day, and where people may not be responsive to appeals to truth or moral goodness, I am convinced they can nevertheless be engaged by the power of beauty. Because beauty is the visible form of the good, just as the good is the metaphysical condition of beauty. And where these two things correspond, there we find truth.” He proceeded to analyze his setting of O Magnum Mysterium textually, theologically, and musically, and he described the unique application of musical symbolism in this motet, influenced by his study of musical symbolism in the music of Johann Sebastian Bach. La Rocca is composer-in-residence at the Benedict XVI Institute for Sacred Music and Divine Liturgy.

After the presentation, conference participants attended daily Mass in the cathedral with Fr. Macadaeg, celebrant. Choral repertoire included “Kyrie” from Missa Quinti toni by Orlando di Lasso, Magi veniunt ab oriente by Clemens non Papa, Ubi caritas by Peter Mathews, and the mode I Gregorian Communion antiphon Manducaverunt. Organ voluntaries included “Desseins éternels” from La Nativité by Olivier Messiaen and Toccata on “Antioch” by Craig Phillips.

The second of the two business meetings followed, during which nominations were made for elections to the steering committee, per CRCCM bylaws. Brian Luckner discussed revisions to the bylaws as prepared by the steering committee, and electronic voting opened during the conference. Marc Cerisier, acting CRCCM treasurer, was recognized for his contributions to the organization, namely the maintenance of the CRCCM website; development of a membership database to streamline renewals and the publication of a directory; and his attention to administrative tasks.

The afternoon sessions continued with a roundtable discussion on chorister formation. Teri Larson and John Romeri were the principal presenters, describing approaches to chorister training in their cathedrals. Larson described a parish-based program that incorporates young singers into an intergenerational choral program. She made special mention of the training of young cantors, who enjoy serving with experienced adult cantors in liturgies at the Basilica of Saint Mary. Romeri described the diocesan-based model that he has established in his posts throughout his career. His diocesan model allows for recruitment of choristers from parishes throughout a given diocese, who rehearse together in preparation for major diocesan liturgies. The roundtable discussion concluded with a question and answer session and allowed other colleagues to share their experiences and ideas from their own chorister training programs.

Conference participants returned to the cathedral for an evening choral concert. The choirs of the cathedral presented a program titled, “21st Century Music in a 21st Century Cathedral.” The Cathedral Camerata and John Renke, organist, performed Missa Brevis (2019) by John Karl Hirten and Ave Maria (2009) by Frank La Rocca. The Cathedral Choir of Men and Boys, featuring the Pacific Boychoir Academy, performed Requiem (2003) by David Briggs. Briggs served as organist for the performance of his work. The concert was under the direction of Rudy de Vos, and all three composers were present for the concert.

Thursday, January 9

The Wednesday itinerary began with Morning Prayer at Saint Albert’s Priory, at the Dominican House of Studies for the Western Province. Following Morning Prayer, Reverend James Moore, O.P., addressed conference participants in a talk titled, “The Relationship between Cathedral Rector and Cathedral Musician.” Fr. Moore—a trained musician himself—demonstrated wisdom and credibility on this delicate topic, and he drew on experiences as a musician and as a priest. Regarding the formation of clergy, he discussed with candor the challenges of seminary formation, as well as how a priest’s formation in seminary (even experiences and formation before and after) might influence his interactions with staff in problematic ways. Fr. Moore also challenged musicians who struggle with detachment, encouraging them not to determine their self worth and personal dignity on the success of their music programs. After describing the challenges faced by clergy and musicians, he proposed regular communication to cultivate a deeper sense of collaboration and trust. Following the talk, Fr. Moore demonstrated the chapel organ, a two-manual, twenty-two-stop instrument, Opus 36, of Paul Fritts & Company Organ Builders, Tacoma, Washington, built in 2013. The Reverend James Moore, O.P., is Vicar Provincial for Advancement for the Western Province of Dominicans.

The closing banquet of the conference was held at the Mockingbird Restaurant in Oakland. Well-deserved appreciation was extended to Rudy de Vos, John Renke, Denise Kogler, Fr. Brandon Macadaeg, the cathedral’s administrative staff, and the CRCCM steering committee for organizing such a successful and enjoyable gathering. The 2021 meeting of the CRCCM will take place in Orange, California, hosted by Christ Cathedral.

Photo: CRCCM conference participants (photo credit: Brian F. Gurley)

Jonathan Hehn

Jonathan Hehn, OSL, is a musician and liturgist currently serving University of Notre Dame in Notre Dame, Indiana. He is a brother in the Order of Saint Luke, a religious order committed to sacramental renewal and liturgical scholarship, and holds degrees in music from Florida State University (Bachelor of Music, Doctor of Music), Tallahassee, Florida, and theology from University of Notre Dame (Master of Sacred Music, Master of Arts). A passionate practitioner, writer, and thinker, one can find him on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @JonathanHehn.

Jean Langlais (1907–1991) was one of the best-known organist-composers of the twentieth century. He rightfully holds a place of prominence in the French school alongside his contemporary and friend, Olivier Messiaen. Langlais, who was blind from the age of two, studied organ first under André Marchal at the Institut National des Jeunes Aveugles (National Institute for Blind Children). Later, in the early 1930s, he studied organ with Marcel Dupré and composition with Paul Dukas at the Paris Conservatory.

By 1945 he had been appointed titular organist of the Basilica of Sainte Clotilde in Paris, where he stood in the line of Charles Tournemire and César Franck. Over the course of his lifetime, he performed more than three hundred concerts in the United States and became world renowned as a teacher, especially of the art of improvisation. His published works for organ are numerous, often based on Gregorian chants or hymn tunes.

The suite Cinq Méditations sur l’Apocalypse is an excellent example of the composer’s mature style. It was first published in 1974, and Langlais attested that it was conceived over a more than thirty-year period. Thus this suite represents compositional skills accumulated over a lifetime. It is far more esoteric than some of his other works, even those of the same period. Marie-Louise Jaquet-Langlais has pointed out that, because Cinq Méditations was not a commissioned work, the composer was able to compose it freely, without limits on style, length, or subject matter.¹

Because of the immensity and density of Cinq Méditations, it took me several years to find an opportune time to perform the work in its entirety in a single sitting. I was fortunate to finally be able to do so on All Saints Day, November 1, 2020, in the Basilica of the Sacred Heart on the campus of the University of Notre Dame. The preparation process was intentionally long and careful, and as I prepared each movement, I made note of many instances of errata in the published score, available from Alphonse Leduc/Editions Bornemann. With a work this size, there are bound to be editing errors, and indeed that is the case here. I present here a list of errata in a lightly annotated fashion, along with some simple program notes. My hope, as future organists continue to discover this masterpiece of organ literature, is that those who seek to learn Cinq Méditations can take advantage of that list in their preparations, in order to present the intentions of the composer as accurately as possible.

More than a little gratitude is due to my colleagues Dr. Beverly Howard, professor emerita of music at California Baptist University, and Dr. Marshall Jones, adjunct professor at Flathead Valley Community College and music director at Bethlehem Lutheran Church, Kalispell, Montana. Both are music theorists and organists who offered invaluable advice on some of the more ambiguous spots I address in the score, and who provided clarifying language in many instances.

Performing notes

The overall organizing principle for Cinq Méditations is textual more than it is musical. That is, the movements are each musical reflections on a verse or passage from the Book of Revelation, sometimes referred to in both French and English as the “Apocalypse of John.” Langlais reportedly read the Book of Revelation many times, and the profundity of this suite reflects both his deep understanding of and also deep respect for Saint John’s epistle. Langlais also had a timely reason for finishing the composition of a work pondering the end times; in 1973, just one year prior to the suite’s publication, he suffered a severe heart attack that almost killed him. As Mme. Langlais has also said, this may have proved the impetus for Jean finally completing this long-gestated work.

As with much of the organ music of Messiaen, works by Langlais are often meant to be heard in a church replete with visual splendor, intentional architecture, and a substantial acoustic. In the slower movements, Langlais’ music often moves at an incredibly slow pace, a tool that both he and other composers have used to evoke a sense of eternity. When performing this piece in concert, I often encourage listeners to let their eyes wander and peruse the visual offerings of the space in which they find themselves while listening. Gothic and Gothic revival architecture is particularly appropriate to this exercise, since the design of such spaces is meant to draw the eye upward throughout the room, as if transporting its observers into the eternity of heaven. Allowing one’s gaze to wander upward while listening to pieces such as Langlais’ Cinq Méditations can make clear the natural affinity between the form of this music and the form of the building.

At other times, in both slow and fast sections, Langlais inserts long moments of silence between musical phrases. In so doing, he exploits the acoustics of the room by allowing the sound to slowly dissipate into its far reaches, and the mind of the listener to absorb what has just been heard. Again, live performances given in an appropriate space make clear certain aspects of the work that are not fully graspable when listening to recordings or in a concert hall.

Errata and notes for individual movements

Because the published score does not contain measure numbers, the locations of each error will be noted as page (p.#), system (s.#), measure (m.#), and beat (b.#). Erratum 1 in the following list, for example, is listed as “p. 3, s. 1, m. 1, b. 4,” meaning page 3, system 1, measure 1 of that system, beat 4 of that measure. Where there is no fixed meter, the beat numbers are omitted.

I. Celui qui a des oreilles, qu’il Оcoute (He that has ears, let him hear)

A fugue with a wide-ranging subject, this introductory movement features a recurring statement of the fourth Gregorian psalm tone by the pedal. Each statement of the psalm tone presents a different number of syllables, suggesting that this movement was based on a particular chanted text, though Langlais gives no clue as to what that text might be.

• Example 1: p. 3, s. 1, m. 1, b. 4: the stem is missing in the bass voice G-sharp. It should be a quarter note.

• Example 2: p. 3, s. 2, m. 1, b. 1: there is a missing beam in the bass voice. There should be two eighth notes.

II. Il Оtait, Il est, et Il vient (He is, He was, and He is to come)

This movement is divided into five large sections. The first, third, and fifth sections each feature a constant high drone on the note F, perhaps symbolizing the unity and eternity of Christ, underneath which curling, syncopated motives explore various harmonic intervals against the drone. The second and fourth sections each present a different Gregorian chant related to the incarnation. First, there is “Vexilla Regis Prodeunt,” a hymn of triumph of the Cross: “The Banners of the King issue forth, the mystery of the Cross does gleam, where the Creator of flesh, in the flesh, from the cross-bar is hung.” Then, in the fourth section, there is “Lauda Sion,” the Sequence hymn for Feast of Corpus Christi: “Sion, lift up your voice and sing: Praise your Savior and your King, Praise with hymns your shepherd true.”

• Example 3: p. 5, s. 3, m. 2: “Nazard” should read “ – Nazard,” to indicate taking that stop off. The Nazard has already been drawn in the Positif from the beginning of the movement.

• Example 4: p. 5, s. 2, m. 2, b. 3: Pedal G-natural should be A-natural, since in all other places, the pedal doubles the left hand at the octave.

• Example 5a: p. 6, s. 4, m. 2, b. 3: in the right hand, bottom voice, the second D should be D-flat. If a new edition were made, one might also change the C-sharps in system 3, measures 3–4 to D-flats for consistency and also for voice-leading considerations (Example 5b).

(p. 6, s. 4, m. 2, b. 3)

(p. 6, s. 3, m. 3)

• Example 6: p. 6, s. 4, m. 3, b. 1: in the right hand, middle voice, A-flat should be A-natural to match preceding examples.

• Example 7: p. 7, s. 3, m. 2, b. 2: the right hand is marked as a quarter note but should be an eighth note to accommodate the eighth rest immediately following. The flag is simply missing from the notehead.

• Example 8: p. 10, s. 3, m. 5: the left-hand middle voice, G in the final quarter note should probably be A-flat, because of the presence of the tie and given what is happening in the measures around it.

• Example 9: p. 10, s. 4, m. 1: ties are missing in the left hand at the beginning of the measure. They should have carried over from the previous system.

• Example 10: p. 10, s. 4, m. 2: the last chord is missing staccato marks in both hands. Also, the staccato markings are inconsistently applied in the previous two measures.

• Example 11: p. 10, s. 4, mm. 2–3: possible missing ties in the bottom two voices of the left hand between these two measures.

• Example 12: p. 13, s. 3, m. 2: the last note of the right hand (D-flat) should tie to the pedal C-sharp in the next measure. (cf. all other analogous passages in pp. 14–15).

• Example 13: p. 16, s. 1, m. 5: a slur is missing between the right-hand E-flat and pedal E-natural in the next measure. Even though it is not a common tone as in previous analogous spots, the dangling slur in the pedal makes it clear that it should connect from the right hand in the previous measure.

III. Visions prophetiques (Prophetic visions)

“Visions prophetiques” is the only movement of the suite whose title is not a direct quote from Revelation. It is a sort of bombastic scherzo; an initial section played on full organ registration is repeated later after each of several contrasting sections. Because of its clear form and the range of styles present in this single movement, I have often played it as a standalone piece.

• Example 14: p. 17, s. 1, m. 2: the left-hand part is missing three quarter-note rests.

• Example 15: p 19, s. 2, m. 5: top staff, top voice, last D-natural should be a D-flat. Voice leading suggests all parts should have moved down by a whole step (also cf. the first chord in that measure).

• Example 16: p. 21, s. 1, mm. 1–2: no pedal registration has been indicated for this section, so the indication to add the 4′ flute does not make sense. The texture here and the previous instruction at m. 28 suggest that this section should begin with 16′ and 8′ flutes as well as the Positif to Pédale coupler, adding the 4′ flute as indicated at this transition point.

• Example 17: p. 23, s. 2, m. 3: B in the first left-hand chord is erroneously marked as sharp. It should be A-sharp and B-natural as in preceding measure.

IV. Oh oui, viens, Seigneur Jésus (Even so, come, Lord Jesus)

It is odd that Langlais would choose to place this movement fourth in the suite rather than last, since “Oh oui, viens, Seigneur Jésus” is based on the final verse of the book of Revelation. Through his use of slow tempos, simple textures, and pensive melodies, he is here clearly exploring concepts of eternity, in a way reminiscent of Messiaen’s Le banquet céleste.

• Example 18: p. 24, s. 2, mm. 2–3: there should be a breath mark between measures 2 and 3 (cf. the corresponding passage at the top of p. 26).

• Example 19: p. 24, s. 4, m. 3: Sharps are missing from both pedal notes (cf. p. 26, s. 1, mm. 3–4).

• Example 20: p. 25, s. 4, m. 3: registration indications refer to Positif, not Récit. Also, the indication about which manual to play on is missing. Both hands should be on the Récit as at the beginning.

• Example 21: p. 26, s. 1, m. 3: middle C in the left hand should be C-sharp. The note to which it is tied in the next measure is sharp, and there is also an analogous spot with the C-sharp on p. 24, system 2.

• Example 22: p. 26, s. 2, mm. 2–3: it is possible that a tie is missing between the two A-flats in measures 2 and 3 of this system. This could also just be assumed because of the practice of tying common notes in much of the French repertoire.

V. La cinquième trompette (The fifth trumpet)

The final movement of Cinq Méditations brings to bear the full range of Langlais’ compositional techniques. Besides that, it is the movement perhaps most visually evocative of the readings on which it is based. This movement was the one that initially sparked my interest in the Cinq Meditations. Listen for Langlais’ clear imitation of the fifth trumpet (mentioned in the reading) and the “song” of the locusts, presented similarly to Messiaen’s quotations of bird song. The movement, and the suite as a whole, ends in a glorious and yet also terrifying toccata.

• Example 23: p. 27, s. 3, m. 6: a half rest is missing from the top staff.

• Example 24: p. 29, s. 4, m. 1: the right-hand sextuplet marks are missing but can be inferred from left-hand underlay in m. 49 and from markings present at the top of p. 30. There are similar instances of missing sextuplet markings on systems 1 and 2 of p. 29, but these are less consequential since there is a one-voice texture at each of those points.

• Example 25: p. 30, s. 3, m. 1: a tempo change is called for but is missing from the score. It should return to “Allegro” (100 beats per minute) as at p. 27, s. 2.

• Example 26: p. 30 s. 4, m. 1: the right hand should be played on the Récit (cf. p. 28 and other places).

• Example 27: p. 31, s. 1, m. 1 and following: “8va” marking is missing an end point. It would make the most sense if the bracket ended with the middle C-sharp in m. 71. It looks as if that may have been the intent but the registration instructions interfered with the layout in the engraving process.

• Example 28: p. 34, s. 2, m. 3: the right-hand lower voice should be G-natural both times to be consistent with analogous spots. This also gives consistency to the parallel tritone movement, prevalent throughout this section.

• Example 29: p. 34, s. 3, m. 3: the right hand is missing dots on the whole-note chord, which should match the left hand.

• Example 30: p. 34, s. 4, m. 3: the metronome marking is incorrect. Quarter note = 104 is impossible to play, and should be eighth note = 104.

• Example 31: p. 35, s. 1, m. 2: First five notes of the right hand should be beamed together as in the
following beats.

• Example 32: p. 36, s. 1, m. 1: the left-hand bottom voice should be E-natural (see the tie in preceding bar and cf. p. 26, s. 4, m. 3).

• Example 33: p. 37, s. 1, m. 1: the high F-sharp in the right hand should be D-sharp as in all other
surrounding measures.

• Example 34: p. 41, s. 2, m. 2: the right-hand low A-natural is missing a courtesy accidental, since the A is already flat in the left hand, b.1.

• Example 35: p. 41, s. 2, m. 3: there is a wrong number of beats in left-hand and pedal rests at beginning of the measure. There should be a sixteenth followed by a dotted sixteenth to match the right-hand rhythm.

Notes

1. Liner notes by Marie-Louise Langlais, translated by Roger Greaves, for the compact disc Suite Médiévale/Cinq Méditations sur l’Apocalypse, by Jean Langlais, Bruno Matthieu (organist), Naxos Records 8.553190, 1996, p. 3.

Cinq Méditations sur l’Apocalypse, by Jean-François Langlais. Copyright (c) 1974 by Alphonse Leduc Editions Musicales. International Copyright Secured. All Rights Reserved. Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard, LLC.

Thomas Fielding

Organist and composer Thomas Fielding is director of music for the Cathedral of Saint John the Evangelist and music coordinator for the Office of Worship, Diocese of Cleveland, Ohio. He is a 2007 doctoral degree graduate of the Indiana University Jacobs School of Music, where his principal teacher was Christopher Young. Previous studies were with Martin Jean and Robert A. Hobby. Fielding has taken first prize in the national Arthur Poister (Syracuse, New York) and San Marino (California) performance competitions, has won several national composition prizes, has been the recipient of several full-tuition scholarship awards at Indiana University and, as an undergraduate, won several music prizes offered by his alma mater Valparaiso University. He has played recitals on some of the world’s finest instruments, including two appearances at Saint Paul’s Cathedral, London, England. His scholarly work has been featured in The American Organist and The Tracker magazines. He was for four years the dean of the Central North Carolina Chapter of the American Guild of Organists.

As an active and commissioned composer, Dr. Fielding’s works appear in the catalogs of Choristers’ Guild, GIA Publications, Selah, E. C. Schirmer, and Paraclete Press. His works have been performed by soloists, choirs, and orchestras throughout the United States, Canada, Europe, and Asia in addition to the 2016 American Guild of Organists national convention in Houston, Texas. His compositions also have been broadcast on National Public Radio on both Weekend Edition and Pipedreams. For more information, visit thomasfielding.com.

Introduction

Esquisses Byzantines and Carillon-Sortie are the two most frequently performed works by the enigmatic French composer Henri Mulet (1878–1967). A dedication printed on the front page of the score of Esquisses Byzantines refers to the Basilique du Sacré-Coeur perched high on Montmartre in Paris. The typical interpretation of this cycle views Esquisses Byzantines as an external tribute to the empirical structure of the basilica; however, only the first five of the suite’s ten movements illustrate the architectural features of the building. The final five allude to different aspects of customs and rituals at the basilica. Curiously, the last two movements have Latin rather than French titles.

Mulet added four inscriptions referred to as “mottos” that strongly suggest a philosophical agenda. He finished the composition in 1908, but for no recorded or anecdotal reason did not publish the work until 1920. The first motto contains the dates 1914–1919. This suggests that the mottos were added at the time of publication.

From 1894 until 1940, a time when art and politics were entwined, ideologies and music in France were inseparable.¹ Jane Fulcher notes that composers “were indeed intellectuals, deeply engaged with public issues, symbols, and ideologies, and their evolution in this period cannot be explained by ‘pure’ stylistic development, or sporadic influence from other arts.”² Mulet was just such an intellectual, and his Esquisses Byzantines is a product of this movement.

The Archdiocese of Paris built Sacré-Coeur Basilica for specific theological and political reasons that are embodied in the towering motto that dominates the apse of the building. Because of their magnitude, two words stand out: Gallia Poenitens (France repents). Ideologically, the construction of Sacré-Coeur was an act of reparation for the sins of France committed during the 1789 Revolution and the 1870 Franco-Prussian War. Even though Mulet composed Esquisses Byzantines in 1908, he may have published it in 1920 to celebrate both the dedication of the basilica and the Allied victory in World War I. To fully understand the ideology of Esquisses Byzantines, an examination of the history of France’s love affair with the Sacred Heart of Jesus is called for.

Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus in France

Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus is rooted in the concept of Christ’s humanity and the five glorious wounds of his Passion. Minor rituals dedicated to the Sacred Heart were found in late Medieval monastic writings. These became widely popular as a result of the visions of Saint Marguerite-Marie Alacoque (1648–1690), a French nun and mystic. At age 23, Alacoque entered Visitation Convent at Paray-le-Monial. Early in her novitiate, she had visions of the Sacred Heart pierced by a lance for the world’s sins and surmounted by a flame of love. Replete with the drama of Baroque piety, God’s message, sent to the world through Alacoque, was that of a vengeful deity seeking reparation and atonement for the numerous sins of France. These transgressions included material extravagance, moral decadence, and the apostasy of Protestantism. At one point, Alacoque received a vision of three demands of the Sacred Heart that needed to be fulfilled before France could receive abundant blessings from the Lord:
• France, through its king, should be consecrated to the Sacred Heart;
• an edifice should be built for this purpose;
• this historic compact should be recorded on the royal insignia.3

The first test of her prophecy occurred in June 1720, when the merchant ship Grand Saint-Antoine arrived in the port at Marseille. Despite the standard forty-day quarantine imposed on foreign ships, the bubonic plague spread from the ship and ravaged the city. By December, 50,000 people had died. The diocesan bishop, Henri François Xavier de Belsunce de Castelmoron (1671–1755), was well known for his love of public religious spectacles such as large-scale pilgrimages and massive processions. In the plague’s arrival, he saw God’s displeasure with the people of Marseille. In November and December Belsunce staged several penitential cortèges, and by spring 1721 deaths had fallen dramatically.

The plague was an invitation to penitence sent by an angry God whose patience with crime, heresy, and sin had been tested and exceeded. The Sacred Heart of Jesus was the best recourse, according to Belsunce, and his consecration of the city of Marseille to the Sacred Heart was the correct spiritual initiative to take in the face of the plague. The Sacré-Coeur had driven the plague from Marseille.⁴

When the plague returned in 1722 Belsunce cited ongoing moral corruption as its cause. The city’s principal governors again consecrated Marseille to the Sacred Heart on May 28. By autumn the plague had disappeared from the city. Marseille became the paragon for Catholic France of the power found in devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

The French Church experienced a far greater trial in the Revolution of 1789. Revolutionaries slaughtered scores of Catholic clergy and religious. For the Catholic Counter-Revolution, this civil disturbance was nothing less than another chapter in the ongoing war between good and evil.

For some, the religious policy of the Revolution was sure to bring down divine chastisement, for others, the Revolution was itself a chastisement. Profanations and wicked exaltations were the signs by which they recognized in the Revolution an evil of terrifying and unsurpassed strength.⁵

The demands made by God to Alacoque had not yet been fulfilled, and Catholic France was suffering for it. Meanwhile, the Catholic Counter-Revolution, fueled largely by rural conservatives, embraced the Sacred Heart of Jesus as its symbol. Convents and pious families churned out embroidered Sacred Heart emblems by the tens of thousands, and several militant priestly orders dedicated to the Sacred Heart were formed. “. . . The Sacré-Coeur emerged as the devotion and the image of Catholic resistance to the scourge of the Revolution.”⁶

Once the Revolution was over, nineteenth-century France struggled to determine which political system would best serve it. Political regimes and forms of government changed repeatedly. The brief restoration of the Bourbon monarchy between 1814 and 1830 created the opportunity to consecrate the nation to the Sacred Heart. Louis XVI had done so privately before the Revolution, but Louis XVIII, who ruled from 1814 until 1824, was too savvy a politician to engage in an act that could be so divisive to the nation. Another surge of fervor to fulfill Alacoque’s prophecy ensued when France was defeated in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870. The pious French believed that these two wars were a divine condemnation of a nation fallen from grace. Bishop Félix Fournier (1803–1877) of Nantes proclaimed, “Defeat . . . was a punishment from God; it was the consequence of moral failure on a national scale.”⁷ Catholic France recognized these disasters as a call from God to repent and atone for its sins.

The National Vow and the construction of the Basilique du Sacré-Coeur

In 1870 Alexandre Félix Legentil (1821–1889) became a refugee in Poitiers after the Franco-Prussian defeat, the patriotic trauma of the loss of Alsace-Lorraine, and the devastation of the Paris Commune. While there, inspired by similar building projects in Lyon and Marseille, he vowed to build a national church dedicated to the Sacred Heart. He quickly won the enthusiasm of Hubert Rohault de Fleury (1828–1910), his brother-in-law, and the support of Cardinal Pie, Bishop of Poitiers. Legentil and de Fleury were able to convince Parisian Archbishop Joseph Hyppolyte Guibert (1802–1886) to support their National Vow to the Sacred Heart and the construction of Sacré-Coeur. Guibert wanted to keep its text as apolitical as possible for fear of the Republicans. After some correspondence and negotiation on the exact wording of the vow, Legentil, Hubert Rohault de Fleury, and Cardinal Guibert opted for the following:

In spite of the misfortunes that ravage France, and perhaps of even greater woes that threaten it; in spite of the sacrilegious attacks committed in Rome against the laws of the Church and the Holy See, and against the sacred person of the Vicar of Jesus Christ; We humble ourselves before God, and, bringing together in our love the Church and our homeland, we recognize that we have been guilty and rightly punished. And to make appropriate amends for our sins and to obtain from the Sacred Heart of Our Lord Jesus Christ the forgiveness of our transgressions as well as the extraordinary relief that alone can deliver the Sovereign Pontiff from his captivity, and put an end to France’s misfortunes, we promise to contribute to the erection in Paris of a sanctuary dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.⁸

In fulfillment of the prophecy of Alacoque, multiple consecrations were made to the Sacred Heart. Along with its widely disseminated emblem, France only needed a church, and the National Vow ensured that this would happen.

After the far-left socialist Paris Commune was suppressed on May 28, 1871, the Third French Republic was quickly formed. Conservative royalist Marie Joseph Louis Adolphe Thiers (1797–1877) was elected president. The following year, Archbishop Guibert formally approved the Sacré-Coeur building project on January 18. The endorsement of the National Vow by Pope Pius IX quickly followed in July 1872. Guibert wrote the following to Legentil and Fleury: “This temple, erected as a public act of contrition and reparation . . . will stand among us as a protest against other monuments and works of art erected for the glorification of vice and impiety.”⁹ These “monuments” refer to the massive rebuilding of Paris undertaken by Georges-Eugène Haussmann (1809–1891) by order of Emperor Napoleon III during the Second Empire (1852–1870).

Guibert was keenly interested in choosing the right place for the new church. He considered consecrating several existing buildings, including the Paris Opéra and the Trocadéro. Both were constructed during Haussman’s renovation of Paris. The debate lasted for some time until Guibert visited the summit of Montmartre, the “Hill of the Martyrs,” and was overwhelmed by the magnificent view of Paris. During Roman Emperor Decius’s persecution of Christians in 250 A.D., Saint Denis, the first evangelist of Gall, was martyred on Montmartre. Saint Joan of Arc and other saints made pilgrimages to the site, and Saint Ignatius of Loyola founded the Jesuit order there. During the Commune, two royalist generals who were defending Montmartre from the Republican mob were also martyred there. The site had been used for various purposes throughout the centuries but was not for sale.

To secure Montmartre, Guibert made a petition to the National Assembly concerning the construction of the church. On July 23, 1873, the National Assembly passed a law that proclaimed the construction of Sacré Coeur a public utility (Paris). Meanwhile, the Republic appointed a new president, Patrice de MacMahon (1808–1893), Marshall of France and Duke of Magenta, whose main ambition was to establish a constitutional monarchy. Catholic sympathizers held the majority in the National Assembly, and the land was seized by the government by expropriation (“eminent domain”) and sold to the Archdiocese of Paris.

Although declared an act of public utility, the project received no tax funding. Rather, donations poured in from across the country from private “subscribers” who purchased construction stones that would bear their names. During the nineteenth century, Gothic architecture was considered the quintessential style; however, the Works Committee of 1872 chose a Byzantine concept proposed by Paul Abadie (1812–1884) from among the seventy-eight entries in a competition held for the design of the building. The style of Hagia Sophia in Istanbul and San Marco Basilica in Venice inspired Abadie’s plan. Workers laid the cornerstone of the basilica on June 16, 1875, in the presence of President MacMahon, who donated a statue of the Sacred Heart that stands in the apsidal chapel in the crypt. Subsequent Republican regimes regarded the construction of the basilica as an incitement to civil war. They considered halting progress on the building in 1873, 1897, and 1899; but because the government would have had to reimburse the eight million subscribers some thirty million francs, work continued. Sacré Coeur was ready for consecration in 1914, but the outbreak of World War I delayed this until October 24, 1919.

Henri Mulet and the Basilica of Sacré-Coeur

On October 17, 1878, three years after work began with laying the cornerstone of the new church, Henri Mulet was born. Sacré-Coeur was a constant presence throughout his childhood, as he was reared in its shadows. Henri’s entire family was musical. Gabriel, his father, was a celebrated choirmaster of Sacré-Coeur from 1886 to 1903. Blanche Victorie Patin Gatin, his mother, played the harmonium both in the provisional chapel erected on the site and later in the unfinished great church.¹⁰ From her, Henri learned to play the organ and piano.¹¹

In his day, Gabriel Mulet received widespread acclaim as the master of the choir of Sacré-Coeur and as a composer of liturgical music. Although forgotten today, his works include the 1894 Cantata à Jeanne d’Arc and a Tantum ergo for choir and large orchestra composed in 1900. He also composed the text and music for a “Chant Populaire” for the dedication of the great bell of Sacré-Coeur, simply titled The Savoyarde.
The Bulletin de l’Oeuvre du Vœu national notes that the hymn’s “music constitutes a model of imitative harmony.”¹² Sacré-Coeur historian Father Jacques Benoist further opines that this influence is obvious in Mulet’s Esquisses Byzantines.¹³ In Gabriel’s hymn, the choir sings the pious text, while a recurring “strike” on low C of the organ pedals marked “Savoyarde” represents the tolling of the massive bell. This tolling bell effect is somewhat akin to the oscillating octaves heard in Henri’s “Campanile” movement, thus suggesting that Henri may have learned something about musical composition from his father. Additionally, father and son collaborated on a pious “Cantique pour la Communion,” O Mon Jésus, with a text by Gabriel and music by Henri. The work was published in 1900 by Le Beau, a small religious publishing house that Leduc assimilated in 1905.

In 1889 Henri Mulet enrolled at the Paris Conservatoire, where he studied organ and composition with Charles-Marie Widor. Mulet was generally a musical conservative, and because of his birthdate, he is considered a Middle-Impressionist composer.¹⁴ Although he only composed for fifteen years, 1896–1911, one can group his compositional output into three broad stylistic periods. In 1911 he appears to have stopped composing abruptly. “He was hostile to the changes and innovations of the twentieth century, and his style remained strongly rooted in the symphonic organ of Cavaillé-Coll of the nineteenth century.”¹⁵ In 1937 he retired from his final church position at Saint Philippe-du-Roule and the Paris musical scene because his colleagues and even the church’s authorities preferred “modern” music to Franck and his contemporaries.¹⁶

In 1924 Mulet’s colleague and friend Vincent d’Indy (1851–1931) offered Henri the position of professor of organ at the Schola Cantorum where he taught until 1931. The Schola, founded as a foil to the Conservatoire’s emphasis on theatrical music, emphasized formal technique over originality. The Schola’s sacred music curriculum was an exemplar of the principles for church music dictated in the 1903 Motu Proprio by Pope Pius X. This explicitly ultramontane document idealized Gregorian chant and Roman-style polyphony as best suited to the Catholic liturgy. The Schola implemented the papal agenda.

Especially significant here is that the Schola Cantorum did not just define musical values that it considered to be “national,” it established a “code” that associated them with genres, styles, repertoires, and techniques. . . . French nationalist leagues taught the Republic that music could be invariable as a form of "representation”—that it could help shape perceptions when surrounded by a discourse that imbued it with ideological meaning.¹⁷

Mulet seems to have been a papal sympathizer. Aware of the demands that Pope Pius X made of Catholic musicians, he acquiesced. Many like Messiaen did not. In 1921 Mulet presented a lecture to the General Congress of Sacred Music in Strasbourg titled, “The Harmful and Anti-religious Tendencies of the Modern Organ.” The article, published in 1922, critiques the Hope-Jones cinema organ and its use in church. Mulet called it the “Antichrist.” Although Mulet played the cinema organ during his time at Draguignan, his distaste for its liturgical use comes from the papal dictum: “They are also anti-religious because the orchestral organ leads to the performance of transcriptions of orchestral music and even of music for the theatre, which is formally condemned by our Holy Father Pope Pius X.”¹⁸

Eventually Mulet withdrew from public life. He spent his last years at the convent of the Little Sisters of the Poor in Draguignan. He died there on September 20, 1967, elusive, secretive, and largely forgotten. No obituary was published, and the location of his grave has been forgotten.

Esquisses Byzantines as Mulet’s spiritual testament

Esquisses Byzantines is a programmatic set of pieces. Its first five movements describe the physical structure of the basilica, and the second five relate aspects of its ideology, customs, and rituals. Three programmatic “mottos” that Mulet added to the piece at the time of publication hint at this ideological schema. Together, these mottos strongly suggest that Mulet’s work is a kind of sermon on the power of the devotion of the victorious French to the Sacred Heart.

Mulet was reclusive and not at all interested in displaying his biography for public scrutiny. He rarely commented on his pieces or music in general. Our knowledge of Mulet, his music, and his temperament comes to us mainly in the form of anecdotes by one of his closest friends, Félix Raugel (1881–1975). The theories in this article cannot be verified in first-person writings by Mulet; likewise, the personal significance of his compositions is vague. Raugel was ignorant of the programmatic meanings of Mulet’s music. Even Henri’s wife Isabelle really did not understand him.¹⁹

Mulet completed Esquisses Byzantines in 1908 but did not add the dedication—“In memory of the Basilica of the Sacred Heart of Montmartre, 1914–1919”—until its 1920 publication. These dates are critical: they are of World War I. Many people believe that Mulet composed the work between 1914 and 1919. This is incorrect. He added those dates to the motto, and they refer only to the motto and not the actual years of composition.

Primed to be dedicated on October 17, 1914, the festivities for the dedication of the basilica were postponed because the previous July, war with Germany intervened. At the onset of the war, the French did not know if God would take pity on them, but many believed the spiritual reparations moved him to do so. Faced with the prospect of another humiliating defeat at the hands of Germany, the French bishops sought to fulfill God’s demands to France almost as soon as the war began. “As early as 1914, the Bulletin’s columnist recalled that France had not responded to the three main demands made of it in 1689. Therefore, the Lord can hardly cover it with glory!”²⁰ At the time, conservative Catholics were overwhelmingly monarchists. Modern secular forms of government had been condemned decades earlier in the “Syllabus of Errors” issued by Pope Pius IX in 1864. Pope Pius X reinforced this condemnation with his “Oath Against Modernism” in 1910, which was professed by all religious and many lay Catholics. The French bishops consecrated the entire country to the Sacred Heart on its feast day, June 11, 1915, and many allied banners displayed an emblem of the Sacred Heart:

In March 1917, soldiers from France, England, Italy, Japan, Poland, Romania, and Russia gathered in Paray-le-Monial with their banners on which a Sacred Heart was affixed. They met again on June 15, 1917, in Montmartre for a day of Catholic soldiers of the Allied armies, where they renewed according to the formula of Cardinal Amette [of Paris] their solemn consecration to the Sacred Heart. Montmartre is therefore naturally regarded by the allies as the center of the expansion of devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus throughout 
the world.²¹

Only at the end of that bloody conflict was the Basilica finally consecrated. A victorious France—led by the fiery oratory of [George] Clemenceau [sic]—joyfully celebrated the consecration of a monument conceived of in the course of a losing war with Germany a generation before. Gallia Poenitens at last brought its rewards.²²

For Catholic France, this victory was the direct result of the intervention of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the fulfillment of the prophecies of Sainte Marguerite-Marie Alacoque. In the Savoyarde hymn, Gabriel Mulet foretells this in the ninth stanza: “You will shout the Hosanna of glory / When our soldiers, Happy Day, / Will come back with victory / Under the flag of the Sacred Heart.”²³

The basilica was finally consecrated on October 24, 1919, and the people of France recognized it as a symbol of the Allied victory in the war.

The High Altar was consecrated by Cardinal Amette, Archbishop of Paris, and thirty bishops consecrated the other thirty altars—fifteen in the Basilica, and fifteen in the crypt. At midday, the Pontifical High Mass was celebrated by Cardinal Vico, Prefect of the Congregation of Rites.²⁴

Had Mulet composed a mere tribute to the basilica’s architecture, the dates on the score’s dedication might likely be those of the entire time of construction from cornerstone to consecration (1875–1919). Instead, Mulet chose the dates from the beginning of World War I to its formal end with the signing of the Treaty of Versailles on June 28, 1919. Moreover, English speakers tend to limit the meaning of the word memoîre to its cognate translation “memory.” This might suggest some nostalgia or sentimental longing for something in the distant past, perhaps a reflection on Mulet’s childhood lived in the shadow of the basilica or as if the building had been destroyed; however, memoîre can also mean a thesis or proposition needing defending.²⁵ Mulet’s proposal may have been that the Sacred Heart of Jesus and his church saved France. One may view Mulet’s work as not only a celebration of the consecration of the building but also a celebration of the Allied victory that Catholics attributed to the divine intervention of the Sacred Heart. In this light, the motto may even be a defense of the prophecies of Alacoque.

The fourth movement, “Chapelle des Morts” (“Chapel of the Dead”), bears the inscription: “In venerable memory of His Eminence Cardinal Guibert whose empty tomb in this chapel is still waiting for the fulfillment of his last will.” The Chapelle des Morts in the basilica’s crypt includes the tomb of Cardinal Guibert, surmounted by a statue of him presenting a miniature of the basilica to God. Additionally, the tomb of his successor, Cardinal Richard, is there as is an urn containing the heart of Alexandre Legentil. Despite the plural name and multiple tombs found in this chapel, Mulet singularizes Cardinal Guibert.

The son of a farmer, Guibert was born on December 13, 1802, in Aix-en-Provence. After several years at a Sulpician major seminary, he became a Missionary of Provence on January 25, 1823. On August 14, 1825, in Marseille he was ordained a priest. He received three successive bishoprics: Viviers in 1842, Tours in 1857, and Paris in 1871. He was elevated to the College of Cardinals on December 22, 1873. His appointment to Paris was hardly a “promotion,” for all three of his predecessors had been assassinated in office. Guibert initially refused the appointment, but Pope Pius IX mandated his acceptance of the post. He was installed as archbishop in Notre-Dame Cathedral on October 27, 1871. He died on July 8, 1886. According to multiple biographers, the two tremendous achievements of his tenure in Paris were the construction of the basilica and the establishment of the Catholic University (Institute) in 1875.

Guibert was the principal representative of the ultramontane movement in France. Ultramontanism, which translates “beyond the mountains (Alps),” was an unorganized movement of conservative nineteenth-century Catholics that emphasized absolute, centralized papal authority. The movement arose in the 1860s when the Italian Unification movement conquered the Papal States. The ultramontane Catholics supported the restoration of the Papal States without compromise. Concerning papal authority, Guibert writes: “The Bishops desire order; they respect authority, which is the principal foundation of society. The hand of the Church has never been seen in revolutions. You will do well to direct your attention and solicitude elsewhere.”²⁶ And again: “The republic has received neither from God nor from history any promise of immortality.”²⁷ Guibert’s writings highlight an ardent desire among conservative Catholics to restore the French monarchy and practical papal sovereignty. The Republic was the enemy.

Before his death, Guibert directed that his Requiem Mass should be simple and that the money that would have been spent on an elaborate funeral be given to the poor. At first, he was laid in state and was buried in the Cathedral of Notre-Dame. His remains were later transferred to the Chapel of the Dead in Sacré-Coeur. A Latin inscription on his tomb states that he was interred there in 1922, thirty-six years later. Mulet’s motto suggests his indignation that Guibert’s remains were still missing from the Chapel of the Dead in 1919. Whether this indicates that Mulet supported Guibert’s ideology is debatable, but he seemed to admire the cardinal enough to bring attention to his empty tomb.

The fifth movement, “Campanile” (“Bell Tower”), bears the inscription “All white, it towers over the vastness of the countryside from afar.” The basilica sits on Montmartre, one of the highest points in Paris. Guibert chose this site because of the view of the city that it affords; however, Mulet chose the word “campagne” rather than “ville” or “Cité,” perhaps because he felt that the bell tower is the pinnacle point not only of Paris but of the entire country. He reinforces this by identifying the bell tower, not the basilica as a whole, as this zenith point. “Campagne” can also mean a military or political campaign. This could be Mulet’s deliberate allusion to the evangelical mission of the basilica and to call all of France to penitential conversion.

By 1912 the bell tower of Sacré-Coeur was complete and thus was not finished when Mulet wrote his work in 1908. Because of this, Mulet may have had an idealized vision of the belfry and the entire basilica in mind. The bell tower and its great drone bell, “La Savoyarde,” were sources of great pride among Parisian Catholics. Catholic churches have named, blessed, and consecrated bells for centuries in a rite known as the “baptism of bells.” The formal name of the great bell of Sacré-Coeur is Françoise Marguerite of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, colloquially known as La Savoyarde. The bell was cast at the Paccard foundry in Annecy-le-Vieux. Francis Albert Leuilleux, Archbishop of Chambery, and the bishops of Savoy initiated its creation; the clergy and upper and lower classes of the province funded it, hence the nickname La Savoyarde.

Weighing nineteen tons, La Savoyarde is the largest bell in France and the sixth largest in Europe. It arrived at Montmartre on October 16, 1895. A team of twenty-eight horses pulled it into Paris. Its arrival was a huge public spectacle attended by hundreds of thousands of Parisians. It was formally baptized on this date by Cardinal Archbishop Richard of Paris. A souvenir booklet from the occasion tells us, “The voice of the bells is the voice of God,”²⁸ and that, “It is, thank God, this terrible Savoyard, of a size and weight to resist all the attacks of the demolishers and the shock of all future revolutions.”²⁹ “It is, in all respects, the most beautiful bell that has been made to this day. It is the largest, the richest, and the most harmonious that exists in France. She is the queen of the world’s bells. We can only delight in it: it is the Bell of the Sacred Heart.”³⁰ By using the word “campagne” to include all territories outside of the city of Paris, Mulet may very well have been advancing the mission and message of the basilica for all of France and even the world.

The most interesting and vastly popular movement that suggests an ideological program for the Esquisses Byzantines is its final movement: “Tu es petra et portae inferi non praevalebunt adversus te” (“You are the rock and the gates of Hell will never prevail against you”). Mulet’s manuscript that Leduc presumably used for publication, now in a private collection, shows that at the time of composition, Mulet titled the work simply “Toccata.” Mulet scribbled this out and added the “Tu es petra” title in different ink, along with a host of other changes. This points to the ideological meaning given the work at the time of publication. The Latin inscription is a quote from the Vulgate Bible that asserts that Christ established the papacy. The Greek text of Saint Matthew’s Gospel has been the subject of debate among Christians since the Western Schism. The Catholic Church’s official interpretation of the Vulgate states that the Church is founded not on a geological rock but by Christ who appointed Peter as the first pope and established the Petrine ministry as God’s eternal presence in the world. Orthodox and Protestant churches interpret the Greek differently. The full text of Matthew 16:18–19 reads: “Et ego dico tibi, quia tu es Petrus, et super hanc petram aedificabo Ecclesiam meam, et portae inferi non praevalebunt adversus eam,” “And I tell you, because you are Peter and upon this rock I will build my Church and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.” Mulet made three edits to the Biblical text.

The first edit is the change from “Petrus,” a masculine, proper noun meaning the name Peter, to “petra,” a feminine noun meaning a geological rock. Given the uniform association between Mulet’s Catholic audience with the papacy, this revision is startling. Several seminary professors of Church history found no precedent in the Catholic world for this alteration. One of them felt that the substitution was so bizarre that perhaps Mulet was writing from memory and misquoted the Vulgate!

The dominant theory to explain this change is that the “rock” is Montmartre Hill, and that “hell” is an allegory for the passage of time and erosion by the elements. This widely accepted theory does not come directly from Mulet nor anecdotally from Raugel. The Greek word “Petrus” appears sixteen times in the New Testament. If Mulet only wanted to speak of geological rocks, he could have selected any of these since the “Tu es petra” text has such a strong association with the papacy. Another theory says that “petra” refers to the smaller, Medieval church of Saint Pierre-de-Montmartre, an institution consecrated over 700 years before the basilica. Regardless, both interpretations struggle to compete with the dominant Catholic exegesis.

Significant, too, is the omission of the phrase “et super hanc petram aedificabo Ecclesiam meam,” the portion of the text interpreted as the source of papal authority. This omission suggests that Mulet is not arguing for the legitimacy of the Petrine office but the invincibility of “petra.” The third edit is the change of the word “eam” (“him”) to “te” (“you”) to match the feminine gender of “petra.” This change is significant because of the distance between the two agreeing words in the Latin text. A mere misquotation would not be so precise. Despite the difference in languages, Mulet may have linked the French “Montmartre” with the Latin “petra” because both are of feminine gender. Without a doubt, “petra” means “rock.” Mulet just changed the Biblical text to suit his purpose, a tactic that he frequently employed in various other pieces. Knowing that his Catholic audience would immediately associate this passage with the papacy, Mulet may have intended another double meaning of the word “petra.”

To fully understand Mulet’s use of the title and its relationship to the basilica, one needs to examine the status of the papacy by 1920. The French Revolution of 1789 effectively ended the notion of government as a divinely ordained hierarchy. This idea quickly swept across the globe. In Italy, minor revolutions in the 1820s, 1830s, and 1840s gave rise to the movement to unite the Italian peninsula: the Risorgimento. Because the centrally located Papal States divided Italy in half, the Italian nationalists viewed them as an obstacle to unification. The nationalists conquered them one by one, and by 1861 only Rome remained directly under papal rule. The pope’s army was weak and had never been able to defend any of its states without the military assistance of historically Catholic countries. Most of these allies withdrew their aid when the First Vatican Council (1869–1870) decreed papal infallibility. Only the French remained, and the onset of the Franco-Prussian War in 1870 recalled all these troops from Rome. The pope pleaded for international assistance, but still enraged at the definition of papal infallibility, the leadership of Europe’s traditionally Catholic countries refused. King Victor Emmanuel II (1820–1878) of Italy attempted diplomatic resolutions to the problem of Rome, but Pope Pius IX would cede nothing to the Italians.

Rome, undefended, was invaded by the Italian army under the command of Raffaele Cadorna (1815–1897) in the early morning hours of September 20, 1870. It fell soon afterward. The populace of Rome was itself divided on whether Rome should be independent of the papacy. “The Catholic religion represented the hand of medieval superstition and inequality, faith in the supernatural rather than in reason.”³¹ By 1873, cries of “death to the Pope” rang in the streets, which led to the excommunication of King Victor Emmanuel II for his Law of Suppression of Religious Corporations. Unwavering, the pope insisted that his spiritual autonomy depended upon his territorial sovereignty. There was no room in Rome for two sovereigns. Pope Pius IX declared himself “Prisoner of the Vatican” and refused to leave its buildings rather than to accept the sovereignty of the King of Italy. He and his successors would remain “prisoners” until Pope Pius XI bartered the Lateran Treaty with Benito Mussolini in 1929, creating the Vatican City State.

When Rome fell, France gazed at the events in Italy with tears in its eyes. France, the Pope’s surest defender, abandoned him in his hour of greatest need. The papal nuncio to France remarked that as “. . . the French army’s catastrophe on the Rhine began, . . . the conviction is spreading and deepening that the French government’s sins toward the Holy See have provoked God’s wrath on France.”³² The French defeat in the Franco-Prussian War was God’s punishment inflicted on the nation for abandoning the pope. France needed to atone for its sins against God when it allowed Papal Rome to fall.

“To obtain the deliverance of the Sovereign Pontiff and the Salvation of France” is one of two fundamental goals of Legentil’s National Vow. The construction of Sacré-Coeur to fulfill the demands of Alacoque’s vision was a required act of reparation for the country’s sins against the papacy. To win back God’s favor, its construction was essential. Revolutions in France and Italy had ended the church’s immediate, practical, governing authority, resulting in the execution of bishops and clergy and the demolition of once-great monasteries and convents. The pope was walled up in the Vatican in the face of a secular government and a populace thirsty for his blood. The bishop of Poitiers, François Pie, noted that, “The Revolution of 1789 is the original sin of public life.”³³ Simply put: hell is the Revolution. The Savoyarde dedication booklet anticipates this explicitly, stating that its purpose is “to resist all the attacks of the demolishers and the shock of all the future revolutions” (italics added).³⁴ The precedent of this view and its likely dissemination among French Catholics suggests that Mulet’s message in this final movement of the cycle is a statement of faith in both the physical building and its ideology; and as such, “Tu es petra” is no mere circus showpiece, but the profound prayer of a fervent heart and a statement of hope and comfort to an oppressed Church.

Conclusion

While there is no doubt that Mulet’s Esquisses Byzantines is a colorful interpretation of the architecture of the Sacré-Coeur Basilica in Paris, one should not neglect its ideological program. A close reading of this text completes the understanding of the piece in a more philosophical way than the empiricists suggest. The ideology of the basilica is one of atonement—a call to France to repent for the sins of the Revolution and for failure to protect the pope from the Risorgimento. The fruit of this penance was the Allied victory in World War I. Mulet’s programmatic inscriptions seem to support this as does his otherwise unknown motivation for publishing the work at this time. Mulet never commented on the program of the Esquisses Byzantines, but this in no way dismisses this close reading.

The French victory in World War I confirmed for conservative Catholics that the final fulfillment of the prophecies of Marguerite-Marie Alacoque had been successful. France had atoned for its sins. Alacoque was canonized on May 13, 1920, the final affirmation of the victory won through the Sacred Heart of Jesus for France and the world.

Notes

1. Jane F. Fulcher, The Composer as Intellectual: Music and Ideology in France 1914–1940 (New York: Oxford University Press, 2005), page 17.

2. Ibid., page 5.

3. Raymond A. Jonas, France and the Cult of the Sacred Heart: an Epic Tale for Modern Times (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2007), page 27.

4. Ibid., page 40.

5. Ibid., page 83.

6. Ibid., page 90.

7. Ibid., page 149.

8. Alfred Van den Brule, Le Sacré-Coeur De Montmartre: Hubert Rohault De Fleury (Paris: Spes, 1930), page 134.

9. David Harvey, Paris, Capital of Modernity (Abingdon-on-Thames: Routledge, 2006), page 376.

10. Jacques Benoist, “Le Sacré-Coeur De Montmartre De 1870 a Nos Jours,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History, volume 26, number 1 (1992), pages 355–356.

11. Felix Raugel, letter to Kenneth Saslaw, July 7, 1973. Correspondence: Saslaw archives, Donna Walters, Gautier, Mississippi, November 16, 2023.

12. Bulletin De l’Œuvre Du Vœu National, Archives Historiques De l’Archevêché De Paris (AHAP), 1895, page 924.

13. Benoist, page 608.

14. Donna Mary Walters, Steven Best, and Thomas Fielding, The Enigmatic Organist (manuscript), page 1.

15. Ibid., page 26.

16. Ibid., page 23.

17. Fulcher, op. cit., page 11.

18. “Les tendances et antireligieuses néfastes de l’orgue moderne,” Congres General de Musique Sacrée, Strasbourg, July 26–31, 1921, page 9.

19. Isabelle Mulet letter to Kenneth Saslaw, July 7, 1973. Correspondence in Saslaw archives, Donna Walters, Gautier, Mississippi, November 16, 2023.

20. Benoist, op. cit., page 586.

20. Benoist, op. cit., page 588.

21. Harvey, op. cit., page 381.

22. G. Mulet, “La Savoyarde: Cantique Populaire” (Grenoble, M. Fleurot, 1896).

23. Paul Handley, editor, “Sacre Coeur Is Consecrated,” Church Times, October 25, 2019, www.churchtimes.co.uk/.

24. Jean-Loup Truche, Concerning the Translations of the Words “Memoîre” and “Campagnes,” email to the author, January 12, 2020.

25. Quoted in R. F. O’Conner, “Cardinal Guibert.” American Catholic Quarterly Review, Volume XLII, Number 165 (January 1917), page 465.

26. Ibid., page 487.

27. Savoyarde.

28. Ibid., page 47.

29. Ibid., page 71.

30. David Kertzer, Prisoner of the Vatican (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2006), page 111.

31. Ibid., page 39.

32. Kertzer, op. cit., p. 39.

33. Jonas, op. cit., page 147.

34. “Voeu national au Sacré Coeur: cérémonie du baptême de Françoise Marguerite du Sacré-Coeur [cloche dite la Savoyarde de]” (Paris: Imprimerie Devalois, 1895).

Let All the World in Every Corner Sing: The Yale Institute of Sacred Music Celebrates Fifty Years

The Yale Institute of Sacred Music (ISM) is an interdisciplinary graduate center for the study and practice of sacred music, worship, and the related arts. Its students pursue degrees in choral conducting, organ, and concert voice with the Yale School of Music, or they engage in ministerial or academic studies in liturgy, religion and literature, music, or visual arts with the Yale Divinity School. The ISM is essentially a sequel to the School of Sacred Music at Union Theological Seminary (New York City), which lost its funding in the early 1970s and closed its doors. Robert Baker, then organist and dean of the School of Sacred Music at Union, relocated three faculty and one administrator from the Union school to Yale in New Haven, Connecticut, after securing funding from the Irwin-Sweeney-Miller foundation of Columbus, Indiana. This family foundation was headed by Clementine Miller Tangeman, whose late husband was a musicologist at Union, and her brother J. Irwin Miller, who was serving as senior trustee of the Yale Corporation. With its strong programs in divinity and music, Yale was deemed the perfect place to reconstitute a school or institute of sacred music. In 1973 inaugural director Robert Baker, together with chaplain and liturgical scholar Jeffery Rowthorn, musicologist Richard French, and administrator Mina Belle Packer, migrated to New Haven. After a year of intense preparation, the Yale ISM welcomed its first class of students: five in music and five in divinity. In 2024 the ISM celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of that momentous occasion.

The School of Sacred Music at Union Theological Seminary

The roots of the ISM begin with Union Theological Seminary. Music was an important component of the curriculum at Union since its founding in 1836. That this ecumenical Protestant seminary held such value for music and the arts can trace some of its inspiration to Anglican and Roman Catholic instantiations of liturgical renewal stemming from the Oxford and Solemnes movements. Church musicians were regularly appointed to the theological faculty at Union to teach music history, hymnody, and related musical subjects to complement the theological education of seminarians.

In 1928 Clarence Dickinson (who had been teaching music to the seminarians at Union since 1912), together with his wife, Helen Snyder Dickinson, met with seminary president Henry Sloane Coffin to discuss establishing a separate entity at Union: a school of sacred music. This school would specifically train church musicians within the context of the seminary. Since the “joining of music and theology, of divinity students and music students, did not seem at variance with the Seminary’s history,” Union began admitting musicians into the seminary, granting them the degree Master of Sacred Music. One sees similarity of vision with that of the Schola Cantorum in Paris, founded by Dickinson’s teacher, Alexander Guilmant.

Clarence and Helen Dickinson were the quintessential interdisciplinary couple. Clarence was an organist, choir director, composer, and teacher whose profound influence earned him the moniker “Dean of American Church Musicians.” His wife Helen, the first woman to graduate with a Ph.D. from Heidelberg University, was an art and liturgical historian who taught alongside her husband at Union. Together they envisioned a curriculum in which the church musician would acquire not only musical skills, but also the theological and pastoral skills needed to successfully navigate the complex ministry of church music. The Dickinsons also understood the benefits of having musicians and clergy interact with each other at the seminary: “In such an atmosphere, the church musician . . . and the minister meet and train together in much the same way as they will work together in actual parish situations.” Interdisciplinary study and collaboration between clergy and musicians were hallmarks of the School of Sacred Music at Union, and it is upon this foundation that the Yale Institute of Sacred Music was built.

Early years at the Yale Institute of Sacred Music

The 1975 Bulletin of the Yale Divinity School includes a succinct description of the ISM: “The curriculum will lay particular stress upon organ playing, choral conducting, historical aspects of the church’s musical development, the liturgical framework of religious worship of all faiths, and practical musical techniques, and will be of a highly participatory nature.” Three early graduates of the program, however—Steven Roberts, Patricia Wright, and Walden Moore—paint a broader, more colorful picture of the nascent ISM and its early years. Steven Roberts was an organ student in the first class that arrived at the ISM in 1974; he later taught organ at Western Connecticut State University and was music director at Saint Peter Church in Danbury before retiring to Bolivia. Patricia Wright was also an inaugural organ student at the ISM, receiving her Master of Musical Arts degree in 1976 and Doctor of Musical Arts degree in 1982. An adjunct organ professor at the University of Toronto, Wright was director of music at Toronto’s Metropolitan United Church, where she played Canada’s largest pipe organ for thirty-five years before retiring in 2022. Walden Moore came to the ISM in 1978. Not long after graduating in 1980, he was appointed organist and choirmaster of Trinity Church on the Green, New Haven. Although Moore retired from Trinity in 2024 after forty years of distinguished service, he and composer/organist Mark Miller continue to teach service playing to organists at the ISM. These three remarkable church musicians share common threads in reminiscing about their time at the ISM in the 1970s: the importance of interdisciplinary study, the emphasis on church music, and the benefits of studying at one of the great research institutions of the world.

Interdisciplinary study in the 1970s primarily involved the study of worship and liturgy. Wright and Roberts both highlight the importance of Jeffery Rowthorn’s liturgy class, Wright going so far as to describe the course as “life changing.” In many ways, it is this study of worship and liturgy—that is, the church at prayer—that unites the musician, seminarian, and scholar. Liturgical studies has become a part of the very DNA of the ISM; it was inherited from the School of Sacred Music at Union, and continues to play a seminal role in the work of the ISM today.

When director Robert Baker brought the ISM to Yale, the School of Music already had an established and prestigious program in organ performance led by university organist Charles Krigbaum. Baker added to the mix an emphasis specifically on training organists for work in the church. Roberts recalls that “Dr. Baker taught me about being a church musician, not just an organist.” Wright remembers Baker teaching conducting from the console. Students were taught the art of leading congregational song and accompanying anthems. Moreover, Baker encouraged students to learn this craft from multiple experts. Moore recalls the director sending him to observe Vernon de Tar on a Sunday morning at Church of the Ascension in New York. Moore was so impressed with this experience that he always welcomed ISM students to observe his program at Trinity.

Yale added a more rigorous academic vision to what had been offered at Union, says Moore, and organists took full advantage of all that Yale had to offer. Roberts took courses on Scarlatti and Couperin with harpsichordist Ralph Kirkpatrick; Wright studied Schenkerian analysis with Allen Forte. Trips to the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library were commonplace. With a profusion of courses and resources at their fingertips, organists were able to tailor their education to their specific interests while acquiring a solid grounding in church music. “It was up to us organ students to take advantage of the myriad of opportunities Yale afforded us,” says Wright. The opportunities have only increased over time.

The Institute of Sacred Music today

The ISM has grown exponentially over the past fifty years; the original community of three faculty and ten students now numbers well over a hundred individuals. Successive directors have expanded the program. John Cook (1984–1992) created a robust program in religion and the arts at the ISM, a development that undoubtedly would have delighted Helen Dickinson. Under Margot Fassler (1994–2004), the music program expanded from organ and choral conducting to include a major in early vocal music and oratorio (James Taylor, program coordinator). Current director Martin Jean (2005–) has fostered a fellowship program in which international scholars and practitioners join the ISM community for an academic year to further their work while collaborating with the ISM community. Together with the Divinity School, Jean also launched an interdisciplinary program in Music and the Black Church (Braxton Shelley, program director).

An abundance of courses awaits organ students admitted to the ISM. In addition to weekly instruction in organ performance from Martin Jean and/or James O’Donnell, students are invited to lessons and masterclasses with visiting artists. Church music skills, originally taught by Robert Baker during lessons, now include courses in choral conducting (Felicia Barber), liturgical keyboard skills (Walden Moore and Mark Miller), and improvisation (Jeffrey Brillhart). Musicological study has expanded to include both historical musicology (Markus Rathey) and ethnomusicology (Bo kyung Blenda Im). Offerings in liturgical studies comprise courses in historical and contemporary issues taught by an expanding and increasingly diverse faculty. Students wishing to broaden their knowledge in religion and the arts can take courses in religious poetry, architectural history, and other related arts.

Ten concert and liturgical choirs are supported by the ISM, the newest of which is the Yale Consort, a group of professional vocalists who sing evening liturgies (Choral Evensong or Vespers) in local parishes under the direction of James O’Donnell. Organ students accompany these services, acquiring liturgical service playing skills in a unique pedagogical setting from one of the world’s finest and most recognized church musicians.

International study tours, typically every other year, take the entire ISM student body around the globe to study the ways in which sacred arts are manifested in areas of the world not our own. The organ faculty often extend the study tour for their students, to allow them to visit and play the significant organs of the region.

In recent years the ISM has offered a week-long summer Organ Academy, in which advanced undergraduate organ students study with some of the nation’s top organists. Participating students receive daily lessons and attend workshops and recitals, all while interacting with their peers from around the country.

What began as Robert Baker’s humble continuation of the noble interdisciplinary program at Union has blossomed into an extensive program of sacred music, religion, and the arts at one of the world’s leading research institutions. As the ISM celebrates fifty years at Yale, Robert Baker’s stately anthem on the hymn text “Let all the world in every corner sing” provides an apt motto. The interdisciplinary, ecumenical, and expansive vision of the ISM, shaped by faculty, students, performers, and fellows, is indeed one in which all the world in every corner sings. May this glorious vision continue for many years to come.

Organ professors at Yale, 1973 to the present 

Charles Krigbaum had already been at Yale for fifteen years when the Institute of Sacred Music arrived in 1973. His legacy at Yale includes acquiring the Rudolf von Beckerath organ for Dwight Chapel (1971), premiering the newly discovered Neumeister Chorales of Bach in Battell Chapel (1985), and recording the organ works of Widor and Messiaen on the Newberry Memorial Organ in Woolsey Hall.

An advocate of the organ reform movement, Krigbaum was well versed in all organ music, his seminars covering composers from Titelouze to Tournemire. He promoted well-roundedness, so that students who came to him with a solid background in the North German Organ School left with an admiration for Widor, and those with knowledge of the Romantic schools left with appreciation for Scheidt.

A student of Clarence Dickinson at the School of Sacred Music at Union Theological Seminary, Robert Baker was the quintessential church musician. In addition to teaching the standard organ literature, he instructed students in the practical skills of the church musician. Baker loved the Newberry Memorial Organ and enjoyed teaching in the Romantic style. He would tell his students to always include a “gum drop” (something sweet that people will enjoy) in every recital. Baker’s arrival at Yale complemented the organ performance program directed by Charles Krigbaum.

Thomas Murray came to Yale in 1981 from the Cathedral of Saint Paul in Boston. An organ student of Clarence Mader at Occidental College, Murray became one of the most renowned and field-changing organists of the second half of the twentieth century. He is best known for his interpretation and transcriptions of the Romantic repertoire. He has concertized around the globe, and his multiple recordings have earned him universal acclaim.

On the Newberry Organ at Yale, Murray taught students the art of registering exhilarating crescendos and dramatic diminuendos. His transcriptions often required manipulation of two enclosed divisions at the same time to gracefully bring out a melody. The Newberry Organ, however, was not merely a symphonic organ for Murray; his teaching of the other Romantic repertoire, whether Rheinberger or Mendelssohn, was most authoritative. Indeed, he brings integrity to every musical style and period.

Martin Jean joined the Yale faculty in 1997. A self-professed generalist, Jean brought with him particular expertise in the north and central European Protestant organ repertories but also sustained a love for the French symphonists. With an earnest interest in historic performance, Jean led the project with Thomas Murray and Margot Fassler that resulted in the meantone organ (Opus 55) of Taylor & Boody in Marquand Chapel. Jean accrued some formal training in theological studies, which made him a natural partner at the ISM.

James O’Donnell came to Yale in 2022 after a forty-year career leading two of the most prominent London choral foundations. As organist and master of the choristers at Westminster Abbey, he presided over such state occasions as the wedding of Katherine Middleton and Prince William, which was broadcast to millions. One of his final acts in London was to lead the music for the funeral liturgy of Queen Elizabeth II, which 4.6 billion people were said to have heard, comprising arguably the largest single broadcast audience in history for an event featuring classical music. An internationally acclaimed concert artist, O’Donnell is a model for many students at the ISM: organist, conductor, liturgical musician.

The pipe organs at Yale

The Newberry Memorial Organ in Woolsey Hall ranks among the finest symphonic organs in the world. The original instrument was built by the Hutchings-Votey Organ Company in 1902. Expanded in 1915 by J. W. Steere & Sons, it was rebuilt and expanded again in 1928 by Skinner Organ Company, all through the generosity of the Newberry family. University organist Harry Jepson, who played in the inaugural recital of the original build (it is reported that there were 3,000 people in attendance despite a drenching rainstorm) as well as both rebuilds, curiously programmed Franck’s Pièce Héroïque in all three recitals.

The final Skinner rebuild is a glorious four-manual Romantic organ with 142 stops, 197 ranks, and 12,641 pipes. While Romantic organs fell out of favor in the decades that followed, many such organs falling victim to replacement or alteration, the Newberry Organ remains in its original condition to this day, a stunning instrument lovingly maintained by the A. Thompson-Allen Company. (The Woolsey Hall organ is featured on the cover of the November 2016 issue of The Diapason.)

The 1951 Holtkamp organ in Battell Chapel is a fine example of the mid-twentieth-century Orgelbewegung. The main three-manual transept organ is complemented by a two-manual apse organ (one organ, two consoles). This organ was designed by university organist Luther Noss together with Walter Holtkamp. Yale’s organ curator, Joe Dzeda, recalls that during Sunday services at Battell Chapel, Noss would often play the prelude and postlude from the transept while assistant university organist H. Frank Bozyan would accompany the choir from the apse console. Built on the principles of low wind pressure, balanced registers, and exposed pipework, this three-manual organ has 71 ranks and 3,740 pipes.

In his History of the Yale School of Music, 1855–1970, Noss, who was later dean of the Yale School of Music, wrote: “With the availability of the Newberry Memorial Organ in Woolsey Hall, an outstanding example of the 19th- and 20th-century ‘romantic design,’ and the classic Holtkamp instrument in Battell Chapel, organ students at Yale would now have the rare and valuable opportunity of studying the organ literature of all periods on the appropriate instrument.” (The Battell Chapel organ is featured on page 1 of the June 1950 issue of The Diapason.)

H. Frank Bozyan was appointed instructor in organ in 1920 to assist Harry Jepson in teaching an organ class that averaged twenty-five students. At the time of his death in 1965, he was university organist and organ instructor emeritus. The three-manual, 54-rank Beckerath in Dwight Hall is named in honor of Bozyan’s forty-five years of dedication to the organ program at Yale. Charles Krigbaum, who followed Bozyan as university organist, had Rudolf von Beckerath design and build this colorful tracker. Notable stops include the Terzian, Trichterregal, and Rankett. Krigbaum adored this organ, presenting a series of five Bach recitals after its installation. Some fourteen years later, on March 21, 1985, Krigbaum, along with nine other organists from Yale and New Haven, performed an all-day Bach marathon to celebrate Bach’s 300th birthday. (The Dwight Chapel organ is featured on page 1 of the December 1971 issue of The Diapason.)

Thomas Murray, Professor Emeritus in the Practice of Organ, likes to speak of Yale’s collection of pipe organs as the “goodly heritage.” The most recent addition to this goodly heritage is the Charles Krigbaum Organ in Marquand Chapel. Martin Jean was the impetus behind this three-manual tracker in meantone temperament built by Taylor & Boody. Modeled on the 1683 Arp Schnitger organ in the St. Jacobi Kirche, Lüdingworth, this instrument is ideal for teaching early organ music. Its seventeenth-century design, however, does not preclude it from playing contemporary organ music; indeed, the ISM commissioned Matthew Suttor to compose a new work, Syntagma, which was premiered by Martin Jean in 2007 as part of its year-long celebration to welcome its newest pipe organ.

For further information

To explore the many opportunities at the Yale Institute of Sacred Music, visit ism.yale.edu. For information about the various degree programs, contact admissions manager Loraine Enlow at [email protected]. For information about long- and short-term fellowships,  contact assistant director Eben Graves at [email protected].

—Glen J. Segger, Yale ISM ’95

Lecturer, Yale Divinity School