Joseph Ermend Bonnal, a French Organist-Composer: His Quest for Perfection (Part 2)

An international concert artist and musicologist, Carolyn Shuster Fournier is titular of the Aristide Cavaillé-Coll choir organ at La Trinité Church in Paris, France (cf. www.shusterfournier.com). Dr. Shuster Fournier was recently awarded the distinction of Chevalier in the Order of Arts and Letters. This is her fourth article to appear in The Diapason.

This article is dedicated to my friend Jacqueline Englert-Marchal, the daughter of André Marchal, and in memory of her husband Giuseppe.
Son royaume n’était pas de ce monde, car la musique touche à de vastes et mystérieux univers. Il vivait dans ce royaume féerique; il en était un des génies et son oeuvre variée, touffue, protectrice, ressemble à ces grands chênes séculaires qui, dans leurs frondaisons, abritent des peuples d’oiseaux.

[His realm was not of this world, because music touches vast and mysterious universes. He lived in this magical realm; he was one of those geniuses and his works, varied, complex, protective, resemble large age-old oak trees which, in their foliage, shelter birds of all kinds.]
Ermend Bonnal's tombstone inscription (by Pierre d'Arcangues)1

His musical formation in Bordeaux

Joseph Ermend Bonnal2 (Bordeaux, July 1, 1880-Bordeaux, August 14, 1944) was born into a musical family. His father, Jean-Emile Bonnal (born in 1851), was an amateur violinist who invited his friends to his home twice a week to play chamber music (Beethoven, Mozart, Haydn, etc.). He began to give his son music lessons when he was five years old, starting him on piano at the age of seven (like his younger sister Marthe). At age 12, Ermend Bonnal entered Gaston Sarreau's piano class at the Bordeaux Conservatory and gave his first public recital the following year, performing one of the solos in J. S. Bach's Concerto for Two Pianos in C minor. "Irresistibly drawn towards the organ,"3 he began on his own to learn several of J. S. Bach's preludes and fugues.
While continuing his musical studies, Bonnal received a general education and excelled notably in the field of literature and classical humanities. In 1894, at age 14, Bonnal met Charles Tournemire (1870-1939) on vacation with his family in Bordeaux, his home town.4 Bonnal knew that he was in the presence of an exceptionally talented artist who was animated by high ideals. In appreciation of Bonnal's vast culture and musical talents, Tournemire offered him continuous encouragement and advice. He provided him with a solid organ technique, enabling him to become a substitute organist at Saint-Pierre Church in Bordeaux, where he himself had been organist at the age of 11.
In 1895, Tournemire dedicated to Bonnal one of his Six Piano Pieces, Op. 20: Le Ménétrier [The Strolling Fiddler].5 The title of this Allegretto in D major, a highly rhythmical musette, certainly referred to Bonnal's father. In 1895-96, Bonnal composed three organ verses for the liturgical services at Saint-Pierre Church: according to their manuscripts,6 the first one, a commentary on the third verse of the Magnificat in E-flat major, is based on a popular theme that he had notated during one of his trips to Tournemire's home on the Ouessant Island (in the Finist√®re, the western province of Brittany); the two others (respectively completed in May, 1895 and on November 2, 1896) were written for the Holy Thursday evening service, during which the organist responds in G minor or in B-flat major to the Pange Lingua hymn.

The Paris Conservatory

Destined for a musical career by age 17, Bonnal was admitted into Charles Wilfred de Bériot's (1833-1914) piano class at the Paris Conservatory on October 25, 1897. Tournemire had studied with him ten years earlier. Knowing Bonnal's desire to become an organist, Tournemire continued to give him organ lessons so that he could leave Bériot's piano class and enter Alexandre Guilmant's organ class in 1898. He also studied composition with Gabriel Fauré.
Guilmant (1837-1911) had developed an international career as an eminent concert organist, an excellent liturgist, and a strict, disciplined professor. His eclectic repertory, his knowledge of organ building, and his colorful registrations opened up endless avenues of lifelong discoveries for Bonnal and his fellow students: Louis Andlauer (1876-1915), Emile Aviné (born in 1879), Augustin Barié (1883-1915), Auguste Bernard (born in 1877), Nadia Boulanger (1887-1979), Joseph Boulnois (1884- 1918), Felix Fourdrain (1880-1923), René Vierne (1878- 1918).7 They all had studied with Louis Vierne (1870-1937), the assistant of the organ class since 1894. Vierne was quite aware of Tournemire's strong ties with Bonnal.
In October 1901, Joseph Bonnet (1884-1944), another of Tournemire's private students from Bordeaux,8 entered Guilmant's class. Bonnal was four years older than Bonnet, and they were undoubtedly friends since their youth. Bonnal had written the critique for the concert Bonnet had given on April 17, 1901, at Saint-Michel Church in Bordeaux, where he was organist. They remained close friends throughout their entire lives.
In July 1903, Ermend Bonnal and Nadia Boulanger were both awarded the Second Prize in Organ at the Paris Conservatory. During this period, Tournemire wrote to Bonnal's father to assure him that his son would successfully win a First Prize the following year: "[Il] travaille remarquablement . . . et il est doué admirablement." ["[He] does outstanding work . . . and he is wonderfully talented."]9 In 1904, Tournemire faithfully continued to give Bonnal daily lessons to prepare him for his First Prize in Organ (Interpretation and Improvisation) at the Paris Conservatory, which crowned his studies there in July. According to Bonnal:

Quel merveilleux professeur d'improvisation était cet être possédé par la joie de créer librement, spontanément.
. . . je recevais de lui une leçon quotidienne. Il me préparait des thèmes soigneusement élaborés et souvent remplis d’embûches. Quelle n’était pas sa joie quand je parvenais à en triompher, ou lorsque je réussissais un bon développement, une jolie rentrée, une modulation imprévue! C’était alors en guise de récompense, une promenade . . . sans préjudice d’un bon petit dîner.
Dans ces escapades, Tournemire n’était plus pour moi qu’un camarade aussi, gai, aussi primesautier que je l’étais moi-même, avec dix ans de moins que lui.10

[What a marvelous improvisation professor, possessed by the joy of creating with freedom and spontaneity.
. . . I received daily lessons from him. He carefully prepared elaborated themes for me to improvise on, which were filled with pitfalls. He was filled with joy when I successfully came up with a good development, a beautiful recapitulation of the theme, an unforeseen modulation! To reward me, we went for a walk . . . and then enjoyed a good, small dinner together.
During these jaunts, he was a gay companion, as impulsive as I was, ten years his junior.]

His early compositions

In addition to giving Bonnal organ lessons in interpretation and improvisation, Tournemire also taught him composition. In 1898, Tournemire encouraged him to become an active member of the Société des Compositeurs de Musique. Between 1900-1902, Tournemire dedicated an Offertoire in G major, Op. 21, no. 5, to Bonnal. It appeared in a collection of 40 Pieces for the harmonium entitled Variae Preces, which were edited by Janin in Lyon in 1904.
In 1902, Bonnal composed a Petite Rapsodie sur un theme Breton, Op. 6. Dedicated to Guilmant, Bonnal had nevertheless noted down “this popular theme at Conquet—in the Finistère, during a trip to the Ouessant Island.”11 The essentially impressionistic style of this work marks a stylistic break with his earlier three Verses. Again, Tournemire’s influence on Bonnal was quite strong: Tournemire’s own work, Le Sang de la Sirène [The Siren’s Blood], Op. 27, which won a prestigious music competition sponsored by the city of Paris in 1902, was based as well on a legend from Brittany that was set on the Ouessant Island. It also included modal themes.
Bonnal had been fond of the Landes since his childhood vacations in Arcachon and developed a lifelong passion for this picturesque region. Like Charles Bordes (1863–1909), Bonnal was one of the first musicians to incorporate popular Landes traditional songs into his compositions: three such popular themes appear in this work. In 1903, Bonnal composed his Rapsodie landaise for piano and orchestra. He dedicated it to a pianist from the Landes, Francis Planté (1839–1934), who performed it often. This important creation won the Second Prize of the Society of Music Composers, which awarded both Bonnal and Nadia Boulanger their Prix Tolède in 1905.
Bonnal's Paysages landais [Landscapes from the Landes] for organ had been published by A. Durand & Fils in 1904. On January 26, 1905, Bonnet premiered it on the E. & J. Abbey organ12 in the large Salle Pleyel concert hall in a concert organized by the Society of Music Composers. Dedicated to Tournemire, this piece in G minor begins with a Franck-like melody on the Swell Trumpet. After a brief interlude on the Voix Celeste, the theme appears in the tenor on the Positive Gambe coupled to the Great Harmonic Flute; it is then developed on the Great with the Swell foundation stops added, leading to a high D-sharp in the Pedal, which becomes an E-flat. (See Example 1.) The final section begins on the Voix Celeste, with a bell-like motive in the Pedal on soft 16' and 4' Flute stops, then ends peacefully on the Swell Bourdon 8'.
Bonnal's Reflets solaires [Solar Reflections], Op. 17 (completed in April, 1905), was composed in this same spirit. It was dedicated to and premiered by Bonnet on March 17, 1906, on the Mutin organ at the Schola Cantorum (in a concert organized by Société nationale de musique). The program of Bonnet's concert at Saint-Eustache Church on January 22, 1911, describes this piece:

En pleine justification de son titre, ce morceau nous dépeint les jeux et les rythmes du soleil dans les vitraux d’une rosace, sans toutefois que cet impressionnisme nuise en rien à une construction nettement musicale. Deux thèmes de caractères opposés, le second présenté avec insistance dans la forme canonique.

[In full justification of its title, this piece depicts the reflections and rhythms of the sun in stained glass rose windows, without allowing this impressionism to hinder the clearly constructed musical form. Two themes of opposing character, the second presented insistently in the canonic form.] Bonnet provided yet another dimension of this work, in the program notes of a concert he gave in Bayonne in 1930:

Cette pièce d’un grand lyrisme semble évoquer à nos yeux, le matin de Pâques: “Le premier jour qui suit le Sabbat, les Saintes Femmes vinrent au sépulcre alors que le Soleil était déjà levé,” dit l’Evangile du jour. Le deuxième thème est traité en variations canoniques fort savoureuses, écrites avec une grande souplesse de contrepoint.

[This highly lyrical piece seems to evoke a vision of Easter morning: "The first day following the Sabbath, the Holy Women came to the tomb when the Sun had already arisen," as is written in the Gospel for the day. The second theme is treated in some quite enjoyable canonic variations, written with much supple counterpoint.]

In September 1908, Bonnal composed in Switzerland his Four Pieces, Opus 26, for organ or harmonium:13 Allégresse (dedicated to Félix [Alexandre] Guilmant), Prière et Choral (in memory of Samuel Rousseau, with an additional version for organ and string quintet), Petit canon (to Placide Thomas), and Petit Pastorale (to his mother). To supplement his income, Bonnal, under the pseudonym of Guy Marylis, began composing dance music for piano—waltzes, ragtimes, tangos—which was quite popular in Paris at the turn of the century.

His early church positions

Thanks to Tournemire, Bonnal substituted for him in various Parisian parishes (notably for the Vesper services): at Saint-Nicolas-du-Chardonnet Church (beginning in Decembre 1897) and at Sainte-Clotilde Basilica (following Tournemire’s nomination as titular there, on Easter, 1898). Tournemire also arranged for Bonnal to become, in 1899, the official substitute organist at Saint-Séverin Church for Albert Périlhou (1846–1936), who played there until 1914 (along with Camille Saint-Saëns). In 1901, Bonnal was named titular at Saint-Médard Church, succeeding Maurice Blazy, who had been titular there from 1892 to 1901.14 In 1903, Bonnal was appointed choirmaster at Notre-Dame Church in Boulogne-sur-Seine (actually Boulogne-Billancourt).

His first concerts

Bonnal performed concerts on both piano and organ. As a pianist he often performed chamber music, notably his Sonata for violin and piano15; already in 1897 he performed an Allegro (certainly its first movement) in Tournemire’s home, 91, rue de Rome; Bonnal performed often with the violinist and musicologist Eugène Borrel (1876– 1962). He also gave a concert with the organist Henri Letocart (1866–1945) for the Saint-Jean Society (for the Encouragement of Christian Art) in the workshop of the sculptor Edmond de Laheuderie. In 1912, Bonnal created La Quinte, a string quartet with piano, which gave chamber music concerts for over ten years.
In his solo organ recitals, Bonnal performed an eclectic repertory: in addition to works by J. S. Bach and César Franck, he performed his own works as well as those by his contemporaries. Two of his concerts at Saint-Pierre Church in Bordeaux give us a good idea of his programs:

August 18, 1899: J. S. Bach, Toccata and Fugue in D minor
J. Ropartz, On a Theme from Brittany
S. Rousseau, Trio
C. Tournemire, Symphonic Piece
A. Guilmant, Invocation
C. Franck, Third Choral
L. Vierne, Final from the First Symphony

January 16, 1903:
Vivaldi/J. S. Bach, Concerto in A minor
A. Guilmant, Communion
C. Franck, Final
C. Tournemire, Capricietto and Ite Missa est (from his 40 Pieces for the Harmonium, Op. 21).

On March 1, 1910, Bonnal performed three of his own Four Pieces, Op. 26 (all but the second) in a concert organized by the Saint-Jean Society in Paris.
Ermend Bonnal performed on the 15-stop house organ, built by Charles Mutin in 1909 for the home of Count Bérenger de Miramon Fitz-James (1878-1952). He lived on the Dumont-d'Urville Street in the sixteenth district in Paris. He invited young artists with a First Prize in organ from the Paris Conservatory to give concerts with the quartet Gaston Poulet and the violinist Joseph Calvet, both close friends of Bonnal. The Count imposed "a religious silence that was appropriate for such events."16
Bonnal's clear, distinct playing was due to the fact that underneath his absolutely legato melodic lines, he repeated certain notes in the accompaniment. This procedure is evident in many of his organ compositions, such as in his Reflets solaires, in the following passage when the left hand plays the melody on the Positive Clarinet while the right hand accompanies on the 8' and 4' foundation stops with 16' and 8' stops in the Pedal. (See Example 2.) Bonnal was renowned as a stunning improviser, even on small organs, such as the one-manual Gaston Maille five-stop organ at Saint-Léon Church in Anglet (near Biarritz).17 While Bonnal highly approved of improvisations in church services, even considering them to be obligatory for all organists, he did not believe that most people were talented enough to improvise during a recital and that the musical result was often quite poor.18

His departure for Bordeaux and Bayonne

On August 19, 1903, Bonnal married a second cousin, Suzanne Bonnal, a professor of voice. They had two children. What a coincidence that Tournemire also married in this same year, on November 5, to his student Alice Georgina Taylor (1870-1919). Although Bonnal seems to have earned an adequate living, he needed to solidly support his family. Impassioned by teaching, he began to apply for positions as a conservatory director. Louis Vierne, who had dedicated his Canzona to Bonnal in 1913, regretted that he had not pursued a concert career:

Avec Ermend BONNAL, nous regagnons des sphères élevées. Voilà un musicien des plus personnels, un poète ému par la nature, un être d’une sensibilité profonde et émouvante. Ce grand modeste, artiste dans l’âme, est Bordelais—comme TOURNEMIRE et BONNET—et il montre que Bordeaux enfante des êtres généreux. Son passage à la classe de GUILMANT fut celui d’un beau travailleur, doué également pour l’improvisation et l’exécution. Il sortit avec un premier prix sensationnel; jamais je n’ai compris pourquoi il ne fit pas une grande carrière d’instrumentiste; il avait tout ce qu’il fallait pour cela. Comme compositeur, il révéla un tempérament tout à fait original, exprimant sa pensée dans un style hardi mais nullement excentrique; en ce qui regarde spécialement l’orgue, il écrivit tout de suite des pièces significatives comme Reflets solaires, par exemple.19

[With Ermend Bonnal we return to higher realms. Here is a musician with very personal gifts, a poet deeply moved by nature, a man with deep and moving sensitivity. This grand and modest artist from Bordeaux—like Tournemire and Joseph Bonnet—proves that this city has given us people who are generous. While in Guilmant's class, he was a hard worker, equally talented in improvisation and in interpretation. He left with a sensational First Prize; I never understood why he did not pursue a brilliant career as an instrumentalist; he had all one needed for that. As a composer, he revealed a great deal of originality, expressing his thoughts with boldness, but by no means in an eccentric manner. Concerning the organ in particular, he wrote right away some significant pieces, such as the Solar Reflections.]

In spite of Bonnal's robust physical condition, his constant good nature, his appreciation of good wine and gourmet meals, the asthma attacks that he had endured since his childhood had become more violent. In 1914, this illness exonerated him from enlisting in the armed forces. In addition, he was becoming deaf. According to Norbert Dufourcq, Bonnal possessed

une intelligence supérieure, une culture des plus vastes, un coeur exquis et cette haute et noble silhouette . . . et ses yeux lumineux et bons, qui parfois reflétaient une naïveté d’enfant, parfois la douleur de celui qui n’entend pas.20

[a superior intelligence, a very vast culture, an exquisite heart and this noble silhouette . . . with enlightened and warm eyes, which sometimes reflected a childlike na√Øveté, sometimes the pain of those who do not hear.]
Fortunately, an effective hearing aid enabled him to continue his musical career.
Due to his chronic asthma, in 1914 Bonnal returned to settle in Bordeaux, where he was named titular organist at Saint-Michel Church. In 1915, he gave over 100 benefit concerts throughout France for the Red Cross. From 1916-1920, Bonnal presented a series of organ recitals each Sunday at his church, during the mass at 11:15 a.m., like those of Bonnet at Saint-Eustache in Paris. In spite of the war, over 100 concerts were announced in the papers and their programs were printed. Bonnal performed an immense repertory, from the Baroque and Classic periods (works by Frescobaldi, Zipoli, Bach, Buxtehude, Pachelbel, Walther, Clérambault, de Grigny, Roberday, Mozart) to the contemporary period, with numerous premiere performances (of pieces by A. Barié, E. Bernard, P. Dukas, H. Mulet, A. Périlhou, C. Quef, F. Schmitt, D. de Séverac, F. de la Tombelle, L. Vierne). His playing fascinated and inspired the young Henri Sauguet (1901-1989), who discovered Franck's organ works.

Son jeu me fascinait. Je lui dois d’avoir entendu, pour la première fois, l’oeuvre intégrale de César Franck qu’il interprétait d’une manière incomparable, inoubliable dans sa grandeur, sa conception, de virtuosité, et de richesse des registrations qui lui étaient personnelles. Il m’a révélé la savoureuse et exquise littérature des oeuvres des organistes français des XVIIe et XVIIIe et tant de pages immortelles de Bach. . . . Il fut l’un des premiers à donner à l’orgue contemporain une richesse harmonique, un éventail de nuances, une variété de registres saisissants et qui devait plus tard ouvrir la voie à un Olivier Messiaen, par exemple.21

[Thanks to Bonnal, I had the privilege of listening to the entire works of Franck for the first time, which he interpreted in an incomparable manner, unforgettable for their greatness, their conception, their virtuosity and their rich registrations. . . . His tasteful and exquisite interpretations of works by French organists from the 17th and 18th centuries and countless immortal pages of Bach were a revelation to me. . . . He was one of the first to give to the contemporary organ a harmonic richness, a wide range of nuances, a variety of fascinating stops, which later prepared the way for an Olivier Messiaen, for example.]

On December 28, 1919, Bonnal premiered his Noël landais in a concert at Saint-Michel Church. According to the program, Bonnal wanted to give its original theme a simple character and invoke the call of the shepherds during their march towards the star. This piece, composed in 1918 and published by Durand in 1938, was dedicated to Mademoiselle Jehanne Paris, organist of Sainte-Eugénie Church in Biarritz. During this period, Bonnal also composed numerous religious songs for voice and organ or harmonium (occasionally with violin and/or harp)‚Äîmany settings of Ave Maria, O Salutaris, etc.
The year 1920 was a crucial turning point in Bonnal's life. His first wife died of tuberculosis in May. Thankfully, Bonnal accepted the city of Bayonne's proposition to direct their School of Music, situated in the heart of the Basque region, which Bonnal loved dearly; he remained there for 21 years, until 1941. In addition to fulfilling his functions at the conservatory, he continued to compose, to teach and to play chamber music: in 1922, he founded the Société des Amis de la Musique; in 1931, he conducted the L'Association des Concerts Jean-Philippe Rameau as well as Les Chanteurs de la Renaissance, an orchestra of more than 70 professional and amateur musicians. Due to his demanding occupations, Bonnal no longer composed for the organ.
In 1921, Bonnal remarried, to Hélène Chevenot, an art historian, a pianist and singer who was very religious. They had nine children.22 Their home, the villa Amentcha (the "house of dreams"), was continuously open to visiting artists from all over the world.

His mature compositions, influenced by the Landes

Bonnal continued to compose works based on Basque folklore themes: in 1921, his Chansons dans le style landais; in 1929, his Chansons d’Agnoutine—a cycle based on texts by Loÿs Labèque, a poet from the Landes. Among his chamber works, his two string quartets (1925 and 1934) were performed often by the famous French Calvet, Loewength, Pascalet and Parenin quartets;23 his String Trio (1934) was dedicated to, premiered and recorded by the Trio Pasquier; it received the Grand Prix de Disque in 1935.
Among his piano pieces that were inspired by Basque folklore are Berceuse des pins (1926) and the Petite Suite basque (1934).24 In 1938, Bonnal produced Le Ballet basque. The Paris Opera had accepted this work due to the Count Miramon Fitz-James, who sent the scenario for this ballet to its director, Jacques Rouché,25 but the war prevented its presentation.
During this period, Bonnal remained in contact with Tournemire who had come to give a chamber music concert at the Théâtre Municipal in Bayonne on Saturday, April 12, 1924. Tournemire accompanied on the piano his future wife, Alice Espir (1901-1996), a violinist with a First Prize in the class of Lefort at the Paris Conservatory, as well as a singer and a violoncellist, Yvonne Simonot. Tournemire and Miss Espir performed works by Buxtehude and Bach. Tournemire also accompanied the premieres of his own Poème for violoncello and piano, his Mélodies based on poems by A. Le Braz, and his Trio for violin, violoncello and piano. Bonnal accompanied Miss Espir in the first performance of his own Légende for violin and piano, and also premiered his own Nocturne, Soir aux Abatilles for piano.26
In 1925–1926, Bonnal composed his most important and his favorite work: his Poèmes Franciscains (Ariettes pour les Anges) for soloists, choir and orchestra, set to 19 mystical poems by Francis Jammes (1868–1938), the poet from Béarn.27 These calm and noble meditations that last 65 minutes evoke the major mysteries and the most beautiful feasts of the liturgical year. On December 27, 1926, they were performed at the Théâtre Municipal in Bayonne. In 1929, Bonnal won a composition competition from the Society for the Advancement of Music in Synagogues in San Francisco, for his psalm Adon Olam, for soloists, choir and orchestra.
Tournemire was proud of Bonnal’s achievements. On January 2, 1929, he had written: “Et puis, comme disait Liszt, il n’y a pas d’élèves, il n’y a que des collaborateurs.” [“And my dear friend, as Liszt said, there are no students, there are only collaborators.”]28 On March 22, 1929, he wrote to express his admiration for his First String Quartet: “une oeuvre extrêmement intérieure, pleine de poésie, originale, raisonnable . . .” [“an extremely interiorized work, full of poetry, original, reasonable . . .”]. Tournemire had spent two hours presenting it to his chamber music class at the Paris Conservatory.
When Tournemire had sent Bonnal one of the cycles of his L’Orgue mystique,29 Bonnal responded, in a letter addressed to “mon bon Maître et Ami” on March 25, 1929,

J’ai reçu l’exemplaire de l’Orgue Mystique et j’ai été émerveillé. Vous parlez une langue nouvelle: l’orgue, ce qui semblait impossible après pape Franck! Bravissimo! Merci aussi.
[I received the score from l'Orgue Mystique and I was amazed. You speak with a new language: the organ, that which seemed impossible after pope Franck! Bravissimo! Thank you as well.]

According to a letter from Bonnal to Tournemire, written on February 27, 1930, Bonnal requested that the library of his conservatory order the complete collection of Tournemire's L'Orgue mystique.

His compositions for Les Amis de l'Orgue30

In 1930, Bonnal also composed a triptych for the first composition competition organized by the "Amis de l'Orgue."31 The candidates were to compose a work in three movements in the form of a fantasy or a programmatic work. This competition took place on June 20, 1930, at the Institut National des Jeunes Aveugles in Paris. The following members—Gabriel Pierné (president), Nadia Boulanger, Joseph Bonnet, Pierre de Bréville, Alexandre Cellier, Claude Delvincourt, Jacques Ibert, Adolphe Marty, Achille Philip, Albert Roussel, Charles Tournemire and Louis Vierne—awarded their prize of 5,000 francs to Maurice Duruflé for his Prélude, Adagio et Choral varié sur le Veni Creator; a very honorable mention was given to Bonnal for his Paysages euskariens [Euskerian Landscapes] (entitled Paysages Pyrénéens [Pyrenean Landscapes]), and congratulations were given to Henriette Roget for her Suite sur un thème de l'office de Noël.
Impregnated with Basque folklore, Bonnal's three Euskerian Landscapes depict the peaceful Basque countryside, with its green valleys and hills. The first, La Vallée du Béhorléguy au matin [The Béhorléguy Valley in the Morning], is Bonnal's most popular organ work. In the tonality of e (the transposed mode of b), its poetical impressionism evokes the serenity of the Béhorléguy peak, in the Basse Navarre, near Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port. The second movement, Le Berger d'Ahusquy, is a calm pastoral on the Flute stops with the Clarinet. The last movement, Cloches dans le ciel, is a virtuosic carillon in the vibrant tonality of E.
On June 12, 1930, Tournemire wrote to Bonnal, his student who had become a master:

Votre oeuvre est grandiose. Le début, sur un thème basque (peut-être de vous) est d'une fraicheur incomparable. . . . Votre Toccata en pleine de force, de puissance.32

[Your work is grandiose. The beginning, on a Basque theme (perhaps by you), has an incomparable freshness . . . Your Toccata is full of force, of power.]

On the other hand, Tournemire encouraged him to avoid composing in Franck's style, which leads to too many long passages. He continued:

Vous, vous êtes un maître. De plus, vous avez l’âge des grandes choses. Et votre oeuvre m’a donné grande joie. Vous avez écrit un chef d’oeuvre.

[You, you are a master. In addition, you are at an age of great achievements. And your work filled me with great joy. You have written a masterpiece.]

On August 19, 1930, he offered a Petite Elevation to his daughter Marylis. (See photo 2.) In January, 1931, Bonnal had also composed a charming Petit Noël in A major. On February 3, 1931, Louis Vierne, the godfather of Bonnal's daughter Mayette, wrote a letter to "his dear friend" Bonnal, congratulating him for his honorable mention. In spite of Vierne's recommendation, the Lemoine editors did not accept Bonnal's triptych for publication. Durand published its movements separately in 1931.33
It appears that after this competition, in preparation for their publication by Durand (January 1932), Bonnal rewrote certain passages of his Euskerian Landscapes and added the names of the dedicatees. The first movement was dedicated to his friend and organ student, Count Christian d'Elbée. Bonnal dedicated the second movement to his dear friend, Count Bérenger de Miramon Fitz-James, the president-founder of Les Amis de l'Orgue, who had advised him to rewrite its conclusion:

. . . refaites un autre épisode médian—qui vous laisse dans le plein-air. . . . qui fasse une trentaine de mesures et nous ramène le carillon. Il n’y a pas—si je ne m’abuse—de thèmes spécifiquement euskariens dans ce final—n’est-ce pas le cas d’en introduire un et ne tombez pas à la renverse, si je vous dis que dans l’intérêt de l’exportation, si un pâtre venait se promener là dedans avec quelques chèvres bélantes—mais bêlant ‘à la mystique’, cela ne serait pas maladroit.34

[. . . write another intermediary episode—which leaves us in the open air. . . . which constitutes about thirty measures and which leads us to the carillon. There are not—if I am not mistaken—any specific Euskerian themes in this last movement—wouldn’t it be appropriate to introduce one? And don’t fall off your chair, if I tell you that, from a viewpoint of the export [of this work], if a shepherd began to walk around with several bleating goats—but bleating ‘mystically’, this would not be inappropriate.]

This second movement, in total keeping with this letter, ends mystically with 28 measures on the Voix Celeste, with a solo on the 8' Harmonic Flute. (See example 3.) The third movement was dedicated to André Fleury, titular organist at the Saint-Augustin Church in Paris.
On February 16, 1931, Bonnal wrote to Tournemire that he had taken out all of the accents that were too Franck-like, but that he left all that could recall Tournemire, Fauré or Debussy: “cela c’est encore permis, paraît-il!” [“that it is still allowed, supposedly!”].
On February 28, 1931, Tournemire finally finished composing the 33rd office of his L'Orgue mystique, Op. 57 (for the eighth Sunday after Pentecost), which he dedicated "to his dear student and friend, an eminent musician, Ermend Bonnal, Director of the Bayonne Conservatory."33 Bonnal only received his personal copy on April 21. He immediately wrote to Tournemire:

Il n’y a pas une heure que le Facteur m’a remis mon office et déjà je le connais à fond, parce que je me suis précipité au piano pour le lire. Quelle belle chose claire, pure, lumineuse comme le ciel de mon cher pays basque! Oui, c’est vraiment cet office qu’il fallait me dédier! Quelle poésie dans les morceaux courts et quelle joie dans l’Alleluia! Je suis très fier que mon humble nom soit inscrit en tête de tant de Beauté. Vous m’avez fait un grand honneur et une grande joie. Laissez moi vous en remercier de toute la sincerité de mon Coeur ému, et vous embrasser Filialement.

[It was not yet one hour ago that the mailman delivered my cycle and already I know it deeply, because I ran to the piano to play through it. What a beautiful piece, clear, pure, full of light like the sky of my dear Basque country! Yes, it was indeed this service that ought to have been dedicated to me! The short pieces are so poetic and what joy in the Alleluia! I am very proud that my humble name be printed at the beginning of so much beauty. You have rendered so much honor and great joy to me. Allow me to thank you most sincerely from my deeply moved heart, and I embrace you as a brother.]
 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tournemire’s Triple Choral contains three sources of inspiration:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ann Labounsky, Ph.D., is Professor and Chair of Organ and Sacred Music at the Mary Pappert School of Music, Duquesne University, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Author of Jean Langlais: The Man and His Music, she studied with André Marchal and Jean Langlais in Paris from 1962–1964.

Performance artists are most often remembered after their deaths through the compositions that they leave behind. Organ students learn to play works written by J. S. Bach or Franz Liszt, César Franck or Marcel Dupré, Olivier Messiaen or Jean Langlais; and thus their names and their works live on from one generation to another. For the rest, great performers are remembered during the lives of audiences who heard their memorable performances—great teachers, through the lives of their students.
David Craighead, legendary organ performer and now retired professor at the Eastman School of Music, has often lamented about the fleeting nature of fame. Some, like Arthur Poister, are remembered principally through competitions named for them, as in the Poister competition sponsored annually by Syracuse University where he taught; but even now, a few short generations after his death, there is included in the competition application a biographical sketch telling of his life and work.
For very many, there is no immortality of memory. In the words of the hymn: “Time, like an ever-rolling stream, soon bears its sons away. They fly, forgotten, as a dream dies at the opening day.” It is a sad dictum that those who do not compose most often decompose without leaving a mark on succeeding generations.
There are exceptions, of course. One thinks, for example, of opera singer Enrico Caruso or conductor Arturo Toscanini, great artists whose names continue to resound with their successor performers and audiences beyond specialists in music history. In those cases, they were people who transcended the limitations of the performance practices of their day, and thus left the arts they served transformed forever. For organists, the name André Marchal, the thirtieth anniversary of whose death is commemorated in 2010, must be added.

Marchal’s legacy
There are reasons for which André Marchal will be remembered as a transformational figure in the history of organ building and organ performance. He had an important impact on the organ reform movement in France, and subsequently in America—an influence that is only now beginning to be understood.
In particular, he influenced the Neo-classical style of organ building and aesthetics, through his association with the French organs of Victor Gonzalez. These instruments, in turn, influenced the aesthetics and registration practices of later twentieth-century French organ composers such as Langlais, Duruflé, Alain, and Messiaen. At the same time, Marchal was a forerunner in the formation of the performance practice now common today, especially in the interpretation of earlier organ works.

Life
André Marchal entered the world at the end of the French Romantic era and lived until 1980. He was born without sight to middle-class parents in Paris, February 6, 1894. Both his father and grandfather noticed his musical talent at a very early age and encouraged his study of the piano.1 At the age of nine he enrolled at the Institute for the Young Blind (Institut National des Jeunes Aveugles–INJA) in Paris, where he studied organ with Adolphe Marty, and harmony with Albert Mahaut, both students of César Franck.
At the age of seventeen he entered Gigout’s organ class at the Paris Conservatory, obtaining first prize in organ and improvisation two years later. In 1915 he succeeded Augustin Barié as organist at Saint-Germain-des-Près. In 1917 he received the Prix d’excellence in counterpoint and fugue at the Conservatory, in the class of George Caussade. Four years later he was hired as an organ teacher at INJA, where he continued to teach from 1919 until 1959. He succeeded Joseph Bonnet as organist at the Church of Saint-Eustache in 1945, where he remained until 1963.

Recital career
His long and distinguished career as an organ virtuoso began in 1923, when he gave the premiere performance of Vierne’s Fourth Symphony, with the composer present, at the Paris Conservatory. Two years later, he followed with his second public performance at the Salle Gaveau in Paris. In 1927 he toured in Belgium, Switzerland, and Germany. Again, in 1928, he gave the premiere of a work by Vierne, this time the third suite of his Pièces de fantaisie.
In 1930, he made his first tour of the United States, having no assistance from a guide and without any knowledge of English. (It was through Arthur Quimby—a student of Nadia Boulanger, and Curator of Musical Arts at the Cleveland Art Museum, who had heard Marchal perform in Paris—that the first tour was arranged.) At the Cleveland Art Museum, he played ten recitals of the music of
J. S. Bach. Seth Bingham, who taught at Columbia University, welcomed him in New York City, where he performed an improvised symphony in four movements at the Wanamaker Auditorium in New York City.2 This was followed with recitals in Chicago and in Canada. In 1938 he gave 30 concerts in the United States and Canada.
After World War II he performed in London at the Royal Festival Hall in the presence of Queen Elizabeth. On that occasion he met the English journalist Felix Aprahamian, who became a close friend and accompanied him on the tour to Australia in 1953.
His concert career spanned half a century; between 1930 and 1975 he made 19 trips to the United States to perform and teach.3 His importance as a teacher drew students from many parts of the world to study with him in his home or at INJA. It should be noted that his first American student, Lee Erwin, who made a career as a theatre organist, came to study with him just prior to his tour in 1930 and was responsible for the first recording on his house organ. His recordings, which also spanned over four decades, likewise have had a continuing impact on organists throughout the world.

André Marchal and the Organ
Reform movement
The Organ Reform movement (or Neo-classical movement as it is called in France) began in the 1920s in Germany and France, spreading to the United States in the 1930s. Albert Schweitzer was a pivotal originator. In France, it was realized primarily through the work of three men in tandem: the performer and teacher, André Marchal; the noted historian and musicologist, Norbert Dufourcq (1904–1990); and the organbuilder, Victor Gonzalez (1877–1956).

Victor Gonzalez
Victor Gonzalez, who was originally from the Castile region of Spain, began his career with the firm of Aristide Cavaillé-Coll, where he became their chief voicer. He then worked for the firms of Gutschenritter and Merklin. In 1929, after declining to assume leadership of the Cavaillé-Coll firm, he established his own firm with the help, encouragement, and financing assistance of Béranger de Miramon Fitz-James, founder of Association des Amis de l’Orgue, together with a group of de Miramon’s friends. Gonzalez’s first organ was built in 1926 for the home of Béranger de Miramon, followed the same year by an organ for the parish church in Ligugé. By 1937 there were 50 employees at the firm who worked to rebuild the Cavaillé-Coll organ at the Palais de Chaillot, and in the following year to renovate the organs at the Versailles chapel and the Cathedral of Rheims.
From 1929 until 1936, Rudolf von Beckerath worked for Gonzalez on restoration projects for organs in Saint-Eustache, Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs, Solesmes, Bailleul, the Goüin residence, and the world’s fair in Brussels in 1935, prior to founding his own firm. Though the Gonzalez name is no longer in use, he was succeeded in the business by his son, Fernand Gonzalez, and then by his son-in-law, George Danion. Fernand Gonzalez, who was killed in World War II, was responsible for the design of the Palais de Chaillot. After his death, Bernard Dargassies was charged with the maintenance of most of the Gonzalez organs.4
In 1931 Victor Gonzalez built an organ for the Condé estate of Joseph Bonnet.5 Gonzalez built this instrument very much in the Cavaillé-Coll style of that time, with two enclosed divisions, the usual plan for his house organs. He departed, however, from Cavaillé-Coll by adding a three-rank mixture on the Swell and a series of mutations. The romantic Merklin organ at Saint-Eustache, which was rebuilt by Gonzalez, and the Gonzalez organ from 1934 in the home of Henry Goüin are landmark examples of the wedding of early music to the recreated sounds of early instruments.6 These instruments included many mutation stops and mixtures, which allowed authentic performances of early music. Under the influence of Marchal and Dufourcq, Gonzalez became the leading builder in France for half a century.

Collaboration with Norbert
Dufourcq
Norbert Dufourcq’s collaboration with Marchal began in 1920, when he became Marchal’s organ student after studying for three years with Gustave Noël at the Cathedral in Orleans. Two years after beginning his organ study with Marchal, Dufourcq became principal organist of Saint-Merry in Paris, a post that he retained until his death in 1990. Dufourcq earned a degree in history from the Sorbonne (1923). In 1927 he was one of the founding members and secretary of Association des Amis de l’Orgue. Between 1932 and 1983 he was a member of the organ division of Commission of Historical Monuments. From 1941–1975 he served as professor of music history at the Paris Conservatory. (He also taught at the Collège Stanislas, Paris, from 1935 to 1946.)
During the years 1941 to 1975 Marchal performed many concerts in which Dufourcq provided the commentary. A gifted musicologist and persuasive public speaker, Dufourcq was able to give a poetic overview of the pieces performed, so that the uninitiated listener could follow. His mellifluous voice and the frequent use of the imperfect subjunctive case were noteworthy. Included in the commentaries was a series of eight concerts, entitled The Great Forms of Organ Music, with genres including prelude and fugue, toccata, chaconne, canzona, passacaglia, the chorale, partita, and fantasia. These recitals continued and included symphonic music and program music.
By 1933, Marchal and Dufourcq had become the leaders of the French national committee for the oversight of historic organs throughout France: the Commission des Monuments Historiques under the minister des Beaux Arts. Many of the nineteenth-century Cavaillé-Coll instruments, and earlier instruments by Clicquot, which were under the control of this commission, had fallen into disrepair and required renovations. This circumstance gave the commission the opportunity to rebuild those organs using the ideals of the Neo-classic design that Marchal, Dufourcq, and Gonzalez favored. Their work could be seen in the restorations at La Flèche, Saint-Gervais, Saint-Merry (where Dufourcq was organist), Les Invalides, the cathedrals of Auch, Soissons, and Rheims, the Palais de Chaillot, and the new concert organ in the French National Radio Studio 103, among many others. Many of the foundation stops were replaced with higher-pitched ranks and the reeds re-voiced. Marchal recorded on many of these instruments in the 1960s.
Influence on the Holtkamp Organ Company
This three-part collaboration among André Marchal, Norbert Dufourcq, and Victor Gonzalez, which affected the Neo-classical organ movement in France, subsequently came to the United States through the work of both Walter Holtkamp, Sr. and his son Walter Holtkamp, Jr., who wrote:

André Marchal came to the microcosm that is the Holtkamp Organ Company soon after World War II. While he had been in this country prior to the war, it was not until after that he brought his many talents to us with such marvelous results…. Both my father and I traveled to many cities of our country to sit with André Marchal at the console to evaluate our instruments. He would play and discourse upon the merits and demerits of that particular organ. From every encounter we came away with a new perspective of our work and our ideas.7
A transcript of one of these conversations with Marchal and the two Walter Holtkamps, Senior and Junior, which was recorded following a Marchal recital on the Holtkamp organ at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Cleveland, on May 10, 1957, gives an example of how the Holtkamps relied on Marchal’s advice regarding voicing:
WH (Walter Holtkamp, Sr.): André, we heard last night no 16′ Principal or 8′ Pedal Octave. My son and I would like to go to St. Paul’s and have a lesson on the use of the 16′ and what is lacking in this one.
AM (André Marchal): Your 16′ Principal is too large. There is too much gap in dynamic between the 16′ Subbass and the 16′ Principal. It is too big to be used without the reeds, and when the reeds are on the Subbass does just as well as the 16′ Principal.
WH: Perhaps this is a result of the 16′ Principal being placed against a stone wall rather than in the buffet as in the French organs.
AM: No, I noticed this same character at Baltimore, where the 16′ stands in the open. This is true on all your organs. The 8′ Pedal Octave is also too loud at St. Paul’s, Oberlin, Berkeley, Baltimore.
C (Walter Holtkamp, Jr.): I would like to know Mr. Marchal’s idea of the relationship as to loudness and quality between the Great 8′ Principal and Pedal 8′ Octave.
AM: In theory, the Pedal 8′ should be larger in scale than the Great 8′, but in use I really like the Pedal 8′ to be a little milder than the Great 8′. It could be a little more flutey.8

It is possible that Walter Holtkamp, Sr. heard Marchal’s series of ten recitals of the music of J. S. Bach at the Cleveland Museum of Art in March of 1930. In August of 1956, Walter Holtkamp, Sr. and Walter Blodgett, Curator of Musical Arts at the Cleveland Art Museum, drove to Methuen to hear Marchal play during the Summer Organ Institute, organized by Arthur Howes, and again the following year to hear him perform and record on the Holtkamp organ at MIT. Along with Fenner Douglas, in the early 1960s Walter Holtkamp and Walter Blodgett traveled to France to study the historic instruments there, including many by Gonzalez. In later years Marchal performed and taught frequently on Holtkamp organs at Syracuse University and Oberlin College. (Despite his love of Holtkamp organs, he often spoke of the similarity between the American builder G. Donald Harrison’s reeds and the French reeds that he loved.)

Giuseppe Englert
The composer Giuseppe Englert, another of Marchal’s students, who in 1954 married Marchal’s daughter Jacqueline, served as translator for the Holtkamps and Marchal during Marchal’s tours to the United States and the Holtkamps’ trips to France. The Englerts’ apartment in Paris, across the street from Les Invalides, was home to a Gonzalez organ, with a similar design to one in Marchal’s home. Maurice Duruflé admired this instrument and was inspired by it for the specification for the Gonzalez instrument in his own apartment. (The organ in Marchal’s home was originally a Gutschenritter, which was enlarged by Gonzalez.)

Marchal and performance practice
In the early 1920s Marchal continued to play in the style he had been taught by Gigout, a uniformly legato touch and a non-interpretive approach to the music of Bach and the Romantic composers. Gigout followed the tradition of the Lemmens school, learned from Widor and Guilmant. During his study of the music of the early masters, in preparation for a series of recitals of early music in 1923, Marchal rethought his approach to technique and interpretation. He was the first, in 1929, to play the two complete Masses of François Couperin. In an interview with Pierre Lucet for a series of recitals on the French National Radio in 1979, Marchal explained the process by which he changed his approach to early music and the organs upon which it could be performed:

Pierre Lucet: Maître, permit me to inquire first of all about your approach to the music of Johann Sebastian Bach:
Marchal: It [his approach] was made at two times. I was admitted to the Conservatory and at that time I listened to what was told to me, I learned technique; I was greatly in need of it. And it was from that point of view that I studied Bach. Ten years later [1921], in establishing my repertoire, I began to concertize, and relearned Bach in a completely different manner. This time I studied each piece in depth, trying to understand it in the best way possible; and having assimilated it, I tried to bring out the beauty of each piece by certain ways of playing; for example, the phrasing, the breaths, the registration. Obviously, at that time, there were few organs on which one could register well the music of Bach; we were still in the full Romantic period. But one could still look for lighter stops, clear in any case, which would permit the beauty of Bach’s counterpoint to emerge.
After having obtained my prize in organ [1913], while continuing to play the organ I worked a great deal on piano. Paul Braud, a student of Franck, took an interest in me. I became then more oriented toward the piano, which permitted me to know more music and to play more chamber music. I worked relentlessly . . . I purchased a small mechanical organ to practice my repertoire. It was at that time [1921] that I really tried to express Bach. My colleagues said: “Marchal? He plays the harpsichord”—and that was almost true, since my interpretations that were closest to what I hoped them to be were like the marvelous ones of Wanda Landowska on her harpsichord.9

This process of searching for the appropriate style for early music and the instruments that would bring it to life continued for him through the early 1930s, when he gave a series of recitals of early music on Neo-classical instruments built by Gonzalez. After 1930, Marchal played very differently from his teacher, Gigout, and the other blind teachers from INJA. It was as if he grasped the essence of the music from within himself. His style was powerful, lyrical, and always convincing. His personality was also very strong. There was a radiance about him and a “joie de vivre” that came through in every piece that he played.
His touch was a radical departure from the 19th-century seamless legato that was carried on by Marcel Dupré and his predecessors. He had an infinite variety of touches. By the 1940s Marchal had become one of the most popular performers in France. The public related easily to the musicality of Marchal’s playing and to his vibrant personality. It is not surprising that such a different style—full of authentic poetry and lyricism—would win the hearts of the French public as well as those from other countries. It must also be said that with him and all the other blind organists, there was also something captivating at seeing a blind person being led onto the stage and then left alone to play the instrument, no matter how large, completely independently. When one contemplates the style of playing during the 1920s through the 1950s, which was completely dominated by the legato Romantic style, what is utterly amazing is this new, radically different sound and interpretation. Begun by Marchal, it was later adopted by Marie-Claire Alain and others.
Guilmant and Pirro, in the monumental Archives des Maîtres de l’Orgue, 1897–1910 (volumes 1–10 available online), made available for the first time, at the end of the 19th century, the music of Couperin, de Grigny, Clérambault, and many others. Although Guilmant and Pirro recommended the use of the Cornet registration, their grounding in the 19th-century style of playing and registration prevented them from recommending for this early music a complementary early style and registration. Likewise, the six volumes of Joseph Bonnet’s Historical Organ Recitals series, published between 1917 and 1940, continued the same style of playing and registrations. Bonnet’s role in the movement, however, should not be ignored. He was intensely interested in early music but played it in the manner that he had been taught by Guilmant.
Although he had substituted for his teacher, Eugène Gigout, as organ teacher at the Paris Conservatory, Marchal was never connected to any school in France except at INJA and the summer school of Nadia Boulanger in Fontainebleau. Nonetheless, so many students requested Fulbright grants to study with him, that by the 1950s he agreed to be referred to as a school himself. In America, many other organists fell under his influence through the many masterclasses he gave at Oberlin College, Syracuse University, Union Theological Seminary, Northwestern University, the universities of Illinois and Indiana, the Eastman School of Music, and the Organ Institute in Methuen.

Marchal’s recordings
In the release on CD (Arbiter, 2003) of his first recordings, originally recorded between 1936 and 1948 at Saint-Eustache and the Goüin residence, one can easily understand Marchal’s interest in early music and in the type of instrument that would be well suited to the music of earlier periods. The lyricism, so unlike the usual style of playing during the 1940s, was notably displayed in his performance of the Bach chorale prelude O Mensch bewein dein Sünde gross. His use of free trills, so unlike the measured trills found in the playing of his contemporaries, was quite a departure from the traditional style of playing.
The subtle rubato in all the playing is striking. In the Bach Passacaglia and Fugue, the phrasing of each variation gives life to the great work. The articulation of the pedal line and the variety in the registrations gives much interest to the form of the piece. What is compelling in all of his playing is the strength of the rhythm, especially noticeable in the fugue of this work. While listening to his performances, one senses that it should not be performed otherwise, that it is right.
What we understand today of the stylus fantasticus can already be heard in Marchal’s opening performance from 1948 of Buxtehude’s Prelude and Fugue in F-sharp Minor. There is considerable contrast between the free sections and the fugal sections. His personality comes alive in his commentary for demonstrating each stop, with brief improvisations that give fine examples of this style of organbuilding. The Blow Toccata in D Minor brings out the bass in the reed registers with great clarity. Listening to these improvisations on the individual sonorities of the Gonzalez house organ in the Goüin house gives a clear picture of this aesthetic: a Neo-classical organ that, in America, we would call an eclectic organ.
Other recordings include:
Chefs d’œuvres pour orgue de J.S. Bach “10 de répertoire” en 1989. Zurich, Grossmünster 1964. MUSIDISC 203412 AD 650.
Orgues et organistes français du XXè siècle (1900–1950) by EMI Classics (2002) as well as Jeux et registrations de l’orgue, Improvisations, Toccata de Gigout, Final de la 4ème Symphonie de Vierne, Apparition de l’Eglise éternelle de Messiaen, Choral dorien de J. Alain, Saint-Merry, 1958 et 1976. EMI Classics, 1 CD, 71716 2 (1997), Saint-Merry et Saint-Eustache.
The Organ Historical Society website lists the two recordings available through Arbiter (135 and 111) with these annotations:
The works by Buxtehude, Bach, Blow, Purcell, Sweelinck and Vierne were recorded by André Marchal (1894–1980) in April 1948, on the organ at St. Eustache in Paris, then a Merklin which had been rebuilt by Victor Gonzalez in 1927–32. In 1936, the Pathé firm released a 12-disc set entitled Three Centuries of Organ Music from which Marchal’s performances of Cabezon, Santa Maria, Landino, and Palestrina are taken. These first recordings of these early works are performed on an organ designed especially for early music and completed in 1934 by Victor Gonzalez at the home of Henry Goüin in Paris. Marchal also demonstrates the organ stop-by-stop, and narrates his demonstration. Available on Arbiter-135.
Arbiter 111 is described:

This unique CD reissues the 1956 stereo recordings made by André Marchal on his 3/28 house organ built by Gonzalez. The fidelity of the recording is unusually fine, capturing Marchal’s way with 12 of the Bach Orgelbüchlein, BWV 603–612, 614–615, and Toccata, Adagio & Fugue in C, BWV 564. There are no revelations here for most of us, and the organ is located in an anechoic environment. The CD is a must for Marchal fans, who will revel in his spoken description and demonstration of the organ.
Although more difficult to locate, it is possible to find in libraries the Lumen recordings of Franck and early French music (Grand Prix du disque 1952); the Bach large fantasies and fugues by Ducretet Thomson; the Clérambault recordings at Auch Cathedral, by LDE 3231; many of these recordings contain the commentaries by Norbert Dufourcq. The Unicorn recordings from MIT (UNLP 1046–1048) of Bach and early French music on the large Holtkamp organ there from the 1950s are excellent.
Marchal’s Complete Organ Works of César Franck, originally released by Erato, has been reissued by Solstice ([email protected]). This recording was awarded the coveted Diapason d’Or. There are many unpublished recordings (some from Syracuse from 1960s, and two recordings from his last American tour in 1974 at the Church of the Assumption in Bellevue, Pennsylvania and in Rochester, New York) as well as many given on the French National Radio.

His teaching and legacy
His system of teaching usually began with having the student play a chorale prelude from Bach’s Orgelbüchlein. He usually heard a piece only one time giving all his ideas in the one lesson. For the early French music he did not use “notes inégales” during the 1960s, but by the 1970s he realized that this was, in practice, the style of this music, and adopted its use. His mind was always engaged and he heard every phrasing and nuance. His use of agogic accents to bring out the shape of a phrase was notable. Above all, he made each part sing independently of the other voices regardless of the period in which it was written. He was demanding especially with his more gifted pupils, desirous that each one achieve his/her highest potential.
His influence is continued not only in the legacy of performance practice and organbuilding. A number of publications and prizes have appeared since 1980: a thesis by Lynn Trapp at the University of Kansas (Lawrence, 1982), “The Legacy of André Marchal;” “Tribute to André Marchal” reprint of the L’Orgue Dossier I in 1997, with the addition of tributes by many American students who did not have the opportunity to be included in the original document; and prizes at the biennial Marchal competition in Biarritz.
The Académie André Marchal was founded in Biarritz, France in 1982 by Denise Limonaire to perpetuate the memory of this musical giant, his innovative style of performance, his neo-classical influence on organbuilding, and his rediscovery of early music. Susan Landale serves as president of the Académie, with Jacqueline Englert-Marchal as honorary president. Among other projects, the Académie has partnered with the town of Biarritz to sponsor the “Prix André Marchal,” an international organ competition with prizes in interpretation and improvisation. The competition is held every two years and has grown in quality and size. The ninth competition, held in 2009, accepted eighteen candidates of twelve nationalities. Americans desirous of supporting this valid and significant mission are strongly invited to become members; dues of $80 for two years may be mailed to Ralph Tilden at P.O. Box 2254, Banner Elk, NC 28604. André Marchal awards are given at Duquesne University, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, for excellence in organ performance.
His impact as a teacher was important. His blind students who obtained the first prize in organ at the Paris Conservatory included: André Stiegler, 1925; Jean Langlais and Jean Laporte, 1930; Gaston Litaize, 1931; Antoine Reboulot, 1936; Xavier Dufresse, 1952; Georges Robert, 1953; Louis Thiry, 1958; Jean Wallet, 1963; Jean-Pierre Leguay, 1966 (who had studied with both Litaize and Marchal). Two other pupils who obtained the first prize who were sighted were Noëlie Pierront, 1925, and Anne Marie Barat, 1976.
His other pupils included Corliss Arnold, Linda Clark, Craig Cramer, Philip Crozier, Alan Dominicci, Norbert Dufourcq, Giuseppe Englert, Lee Erwin (the first American pupil before 1930), Robert Eshenour, John Fenstermaker, Philip Gehring, Emily Gibson, Lester Groom, Jerald Hamilton, Ruth Harris, William Hays, Allan Hobbs, Howard Jewell, Elna Johnson, Margaret Kemper, Ralph Kneeream, Suzanne Kornprobst, Marilou Kratzenstein, Charles Krigbaum, Ann Labounsky, Susan Landale, David Liddle, Denise Limonaire, Robert Lodine, Alan Long, Robert Sutherland Lord, Chamin Walker Meadows, Kathryn Moen, Earline Moulder, Margaret Mueller, Arsène Muzerelle, Lois Pardue, Garth Peacock, Stephen Rumpf, Daniel and David Simpson, Robert Sirota, Rev. Victoria Sirota, Carl Staplin, Roger Stiegler, Edith Strom, Haskell Thompson, Ralph Tilden, Parvin Titus, Robert Judith Truitt, Marie-Antoinette Vernières, Gail Walton, Nicole Wild, and Mary Alice Wotring.

Influence on subsequent
composers
His influence on subsequent composers such as Langlais, Duruflé, Alain, and Messiaen in their approaches to organ registration is likewise important to this reflection of André Marchal upon the 30th anniversary of his death. Jean Langlais studied organ with Marchal at INJA and at his home and was influenced by the work of Gonzalez in these two venues, as well as the organ at the Palais de Chaillot, where he performed his first symphony in 1943. His choice of the Schwenkedel organs of Neo-classical design, which he installed in his home and at the Institute Valentin Haüy, next door to INJA, shows this influence. The stops that he added to the organ at Sainte-Clotilde in 1962 included a Larigot 11⁄3′ on the Positif, a Prestant 4′ and Clairon 2′ on the Récit, and a Prestant 4′ and Doublette 2′ on the Pédale.10
The many Neo-classical registrations in his pieces likewise show this influence. For example, even the titles of a number of his pieces refer to these types of registrations: Dialogue sur les mixtures (Suite brève, 1947) and all the movements of Suite française (1948), which are based on titles found in classical French organ music such as Prélude sur les grands jeux and Contrepoint sur les jeux d’anches, and Suite baroque (1973).
As I have already mentioned, Maurice Duruflé often visited the home of Giuseppe Englert to study the specifications and dimensions of the Gonzalez organ, which inspired him for his house organ, also built by Gonzalez. Englert’s house organ was based on the specifications of Marchal’s house organ.11 In Duruflé’s organ works, even starting with the Scherzo from 1926, his registrations depart from the normal 19th-century models.
Marchal and Jehan Alain’s father, Albert Alain—an amateur organbuilder—were close friends and worked together on ideas for the specifications for their house organs. Similarities can be seen in the specifications of each.12 When Marchal had built his organ with a rather classic Positif, Albert Alain wanted to do the same thing.13 Jehan Alain’s first experiences of organ music in his home were influenced by the aesthetics of Marchal and Gonzalez. Jehan Alain and Marchal enjoyed playing and improvising together in Alain’s home. A very early work, Variations sur un thème de Clément Jannequin, demonstrates registrations that call for Neo-classical stops as well as the recall of early music in the title of the piece. Another work of Jehan Alain, Le Jardin suspendu, calls for a typically classical French stop, the Gros Nasard 51⁄3′ on the Positif. Marchal was among the first organists to perform Alain’s music, including Litanies, Variations sur un theme de Clément Jannequin, and Danses à Agni Yavishta, and had them transcribed into Braille notation.
Olivier Messiaen was also influenced by the Neo-classical trends in France. He changed the Cavaillé-Coll organ at La Trinité, where he was organist from 1930 until 1991, to include many mutation stops that were not part of the original specification. Even his earliest organ work, Le banquet céleste (1928), is a departure from the normal registration practices of the period, including Flûte 4′, Nasard 22⁄3′, Doublette 2′, and Piccolo 1′ for the pedal line. As he continued to compose, his works called more frequently for higher-pitched sonorities, often to imitate birds. One could say that it was a far cry from D’Aquin’s imitative harpsichord piece mimicking the cuckoo, but these sounds were all part of an interest in both the future and the past.

Conclusion
It is time to re-evaluate André Marchal’s contributions to the organ reform movement in France; his impact on organbuilding in the United States, particularly in his relationships to Walter Holtkamp and Walter Blodgett as well as Fenner Douglas; and his influence on the leading organ composers of the 20th century: Langlais, Alain, Duruflé, and Messiaen. In light of the development of early organ techniques and the number of publications that have been published and used in the thirty years since his death, it is time to listen again to Marchal’s recordings with a discerning mind and ask where his place is in the development of performance practice.
One certainly hears a wide variety of touches in all his playing. What was his “ordinary” touch? What were the main differences between his style and that of Joseph Bonnet, Alexandre Guilmant, and Marie-Claire Alain? Robert Noehren admired the sensitivity of his touch both on tracker and electric actions. It is also time to re-evaluate his influence on organ building; for example, in the composition of the Plein jeu mixture, which reserved the breaks until after middle C to enhance the clarity of the polyphonic line, and his use of different mixtures for each polyphonic composition that he performed.
Consider, too, the changes in the organ registrations in the music of Duruflé, Alain, Messiaen, and Langlais as compared to many other composers of the 20th century. The required foundations plus reeds on each manual, as a given for organ registration, changed as a result of Marchal’s impact on the Neo-classical organ in France. There is, indeed, much to ponder.
Perhaps Norbert Dufourcq, who was the most eloquent of his collaborators, best expressed the essence of his artistry:

André Marchal seemed to have found by himself the sources to which he probed the depths of his rich and attractive personality: the discovery of the works of the French organists of the 17th and 18th centuries, that of the complete works of Bach (he played almost all of it), of Cabezón, Frescobaldi, Buxtehude . . . It was for André Marchal to penetrate the secrets of a page of music, to discover the tempo, in searching the phrases, in marking the strong pulses, the weak pulses, without ever breaking the melodic line nor the polyphonic structure, without ever losing a rhythm which gave a work its forward motion, its line. One has praised the sensitivity of the Maître. It is better perhaps to speak of his sense of poetry.
To this static but mysterious and majestic instrument, he knew how to assure a poetic and lyric “aura” that he insisted on creating in a convincing phrasing with thousands of details in a style made more subtle by the use of minimal retards; of suspensions slightly brought out or by the imperious accents thrown into the center of the discourse. Goodbye to the inexpressive and neutral legato, André Marchal sought to impose on his instrument a suppleness with the use of imperceptible tensions—jolts of the soul—which did not stop. It is in this that he transformed the lens of the entire school of the organ, in France as in America . . . Under his fingers the organ no longer preached in an impersonal manner; under his fingers, the melodies rushed into the nave to touch the heart of each person. But it was never he who descended upon us. It was us, whom he seized with love, and attracted us to him.14 ■

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

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

Pierre Cogen’s musical formation under Jean Langlais’ guidance

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

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

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

Titular at the Sainte-Clotilde Basilica in Paris

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

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

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

International concert organist and recording artist

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

Pierre Cogen’s organ works

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jean-Louis Coignet is organ expert and Advisor for the City of Paris.

Two years ago, a storm was suddenly triggered on the Internet: the Sainte-Clotilde organ was being “vandalized” . . . “impure hands were ravaging the Cavaillé-Coll masterpiece” that Jean Langlais had so respectfully preserved . . . Jacques Taddéi, titular organist of Sainte-Clotilde, was deemed responsible for the “sack of a sacred heritage” and put in the stocks. This turmoil spread in the United States with that fine sense of moderation that characterizes some organ circles; it did not arouse much interest in France except from a few quarters where Taddéi is hated for various reasons.
What remains of the storm now? Merely a feeling of ridiculous agitation as it has become obvious that this thermonuclear bomb was a non-event perpetrated by mythomaniacs, and that the real motives of the agitators had little to do with their supposed respect for the Sainte-Clotilde organ. In order to separate lies and fantasms from the truth, it is helpful to sketch the history of this instrument.
When the organ was inaugurated on December 19, 1859, its specification was as follows: three manuals (C1–F5: 54 notes): Grand-Orgue, Positif, Récit; Pédale (C1–D3: 27 notes).

GRAND-ORGUE

16’ Montre
16’ Bourdon
8’ Montre
8’ Bourdon
8’ Viole de gambe
8’ Flûte harmonique
4’ Prestant
4’ Octave
22⁄3’ Quinte
2’ Doublette
Plein-Jeu VII
16’ Bombarde
8’ Trompette
4’ Clairon

POSITIF

16’ Bourdon
8’ Montre
8’ Bourdon
8’ Salicional
8’ Unda Maris
8’ Flûte harmonique
4’ Prestant
4’ Flûte octaviante
22⁄3’ Quinte
2’ Doublette
Plein-Jeu III–VI
8’ Trompette
8’ Cromorne
4’ Clairon

RÉCIT

8’ Bourdon
8’ Viole de gambe
8’ Voix céleste
8’ Flûte harmonique
4’ Flûte octaviante
2’ Octavin
8’ Trompette
8’ Basson-Hautbois
8’ Voix humaine
4’ Clairon

PÉDALE

32’ Soubasse
16’ Contrebasse
8’ Flûte
4’ Octave
16’ Bombarde
16’ Basson
8’ Trompette
4’ Clairon

Pédales de Combinaisons

Orage
Tirasse Grand-Orgue
Tirasse Positif
Anches Pédale
Grand-Orgue 16
Positif 16
Positif/Grand-Orgue 16
Anches Grand-Orgue
Anches Positif
Anches Récit
Positif/Grand-Orgue
Récit/Positif
Trémolo Récit
Expression Récit
It should be noted that certain items of the specification are still debatable: Was there a Gambe 8’ or an Unda Maris 8’? Was there a Flûte octaviante 4’ or an Octave 4’ on the Positif? Was there an “appel Grand-Orgue” among the “pédales de combinaisons”? There is at least one point that is no longer questionable, namely, concerning the Récit/Pédale coupler: During examination of the original console in Flor Peeters’ music room, I noted several changes that had been carried out on the “pédales de combinaisons.” There was no longer any “pédale d’orage” as it had been replaced by the “tirasse Grand-Orgue.” Thus the original “tirasse Grand-Orgue” became “tirasse Positif” while the original “tirasse Positif” became “tirasse Récit.” When did this change happen? Probably during one of the “relevages” that Tournemire mentions in the “notice d’inauguration du Grand Orgue” published in 1933. In a letter to Daniel-Lesur, Tournemire wrote that he had the “tirasse Récit” added to the organ. Still, he mentions a “tirasse III” in the “notice . . . ” under the title “Dispositif de l’ancien orgue (1859) . . . ” Historical accuracy was probably not his strong point.
After César Franck’s death, Pierné was appointed in 1890, then Tournemire in 1898. The organ was enlarged in 1933 under Tournemire’s direction: 10 new stops and many new “pédales de combinaisons” were added, while the manuals were extended by 7 notes to reach a 61-note key compass and the pedal by 5 notes to a 32-key compass. These modifications made it necessary to provide a new console. A Cornet V was added to the Grand-Orgue; the Positif Cromorne was transferred to the Récit and renamed Clarinette; a Tierce 13⁄5’ and a Piccolo 1’ were added to the Positif; the Unda Maris gave way to a Gambe 8’.
The most important changes were made on the Récit: a new windchest was installed as well as five additional stops (Quintaton 16’, Bombarde 16’, Nazard 22⁄3’, Tierce 13⁄5’ and Plein-Jeu IV). The Récit enclosure was enlarged to accommodate the new elements. A Soubasse 16’ and a Quinte 51⁄3’ were added to the Pedal, and a Flûte 4’ replaced the Octave 4’. Fourteen new “pédales de combinaisons”—“octaves aigües” and “appels et retraits de jeux”—were added to the existing ones. The expression pedal was centered.
In the “notice d’inauguration,” Tournemire attempts to justify these changes: “These improvements were carried out to better serve the Art of the Organ from the 13th century to the present day.” Even if we do not agree with him, we have to admit that no irreversible changes were perpetrated at that time. All of the Cavaillé-Coll structures of the organ were still there: mechanical action with Barker levers, winding with double-rise bellows, etc. I remember having visited and heard the organ in the 1950s; its sound effect (excepting the “octaves aigües”) was still quite typical of a large Cavaillé-Coll organ.
After Tournemire’s tragic death in 1939, Ermend Bonnal was appointed titular organist. The organ underwent no changes during his tenure. Jean Langlais succeeded him in 1945. Soon afterwards he had part of the organ ceiling removed and replaced by a raised roof in particleboard in an attempt to improve sound egress from the Récit. This modification, carried out in the 1950s, was acoustically efficient, albeit visually very ugly indeed. (Photo 1)
The organ underwent substantial further modifications in 1960–62. The Barker levers, the trackers, and the stop action were removed and replaced with electro-pneumatic transmissions. The Grand-Orgue and Positif reservoirs were also removed and replaced by spring-regulators; the winding of the instrument underwent big changes as did its general balance (along the then-fashionable neo-classical trends). A new Pédale windchest was installed in front of the Récit box to accommodate the Soubasse 16’ as well as three new stops (Bourdon 8’, Prestant 4’ and Doublette 2’). A Flûte 4’ took the place of the Octave 4’ on the Grand-Orgue; the Positif Gambe 8’ was replaced by a Larigot 11⁄3’; a Principal Italien 4’ and a Clairon 2’ were added to the Récit; a new console (the third one) was installed; the “pédales de combinaisons” were reorganized and a combination system, with 6 general and 18 individual pistons, was installed at the back of the organ. Beuchet-Debierre executed these extensive modifications under the direction of Jean Langlais. It cannot be seriously asserted that these were merely superficial, cosmetic alterations. In fact the sound effect of the organ was grossly modified. Whether it sounded better or not is a matter of taste, but obviously the sound was no longer that of Cavaillé-Coll. Jean Guillou faithfully summed up a fairly widespread feeling: “ . . . it is a faucet for lukewarm water!”
Jacques Barberis performed another “relevage” in 1983; the Clarinette 8’ was moved back to the Positif at this time and a few small changes were made among the couplers.
Soon after his appointment as titular organist in 1987, Jacques Taddéi first complained of the limitations of the combination system, then of the lack of wind, quite evident when heavy registrations and 16’ couplers were used. This was by no means surprising as neither Tournemire nor Langlais had ever taken care of this: many stops and couplers had been added to the original organ, an electro-pneumatic action for both notes and stops had replaced the original action, and many reservoirs had been removed when, on the contrary, new ones should have been provided to feed these multiple additions. Worse, in the late 1990s the wiring inside the console had deteriorated to the point where it became dangerous to use certain console controls; e.g., the crescendo pedal had to be disconnected as posing a fire hazard. As far as the instrument’s tonal aspects are concerned, Jacques Taddéi felt that the instrument lacked “guts” and was not responsive enough. This was clearly the result of the drop in the wind pressure that afflicted most divisions, especially the Pédale.
At this point, I drew up a program of repairs aiming at a largely sufficient wind supply by mending the reservoirs and wind trunks, adding a new blower and new primary reservoir to the existing ones, and replacing the electro-pneumatic slider motors (leaking, noisy and very cumbersome) with electric slider motors. To avoid all fire risks, it was decided to upgrade the key and stop action with solid-state transmissions and an electronic combination system. At the same time, Jacques Taddéi requested some tonal modifications that were described in the March 2002 issue of The Diapason: “With Jacques Taddéi and Marie-Louise Langlais as consultants, the organ is currently undergoing yet another restoration. The goal is to return it as much as possible to the original Cavaillé-Coll voicing and disposition while maintaining the tonal design for playing also the music of Tournemire and Langlais.”
The Manufacture Vosgienne de Grandes Orgues was entrusted with these tasks. Due to financial restrictions by the civic administration, they were staggered over many years. At the beginning of 2004, as the final phase was being carried out, Jacques Taddéi received a gift from a significant donor, the Bettancourt Schueller Foundation, to pay for several additions and changes that he was eager to have worked out: adding mutations in the 16’ series, a horizontal Trompette 8’, a Bombarde 32’, and moving the console from the second to the first gallery.
Soon after this, a conflict emerged among Jacques Taddéi, his assistant Marie-Louise Langlais, and the latter’s assistant, Sylvie Mallet. I was not aware of that dispute until Christina Harmon called my attention to the fight that, in fact, seems to have begun soon after the appointment of Nicolas Pichon as new assistant. (In fact, during various meetings concerning the organ, Marie-Louise Langlais used to say nothing but “Jacques is right! . . . ”)
Here are some extracts of my reply to Madame Harmon (May 24, 2004):

I am dumbfounded indeed to hear of a disagreement between Madame Langlais and Monsieur Taddéi concerning the organ of Sainte-Clotilde. At meetings before and during the works, Madame Langlais had the opportunity to voice her concerns, but she did not. She could also have phoned the Bureau des Monuments, or me, if she did not care to express her disapproval during the meetings; she did not. . . . I am very sorry to hear of the dispute between Madame Langlais and Monsieur Taddéi; I thought that they were close friends, but conflicts are SO COMMON in the organ world that I wonder whether they are not the result of a genetic programming. . . . Anyhow it is a rule for me never to interfere in that kind of affair.
. . . Personally I am quite conservative towards organs; I was among the first (more than forty years ago!) to deplore the changes that French organs have endured along the years and centuries. If Monsieur Taddéi’s predecessors had acted more respectfully toward the Sainte-Clotilde organ, we still should be able to hear and play Franck’s organ.
An orchestrated flood of false “news” and delirious scoops was then spread on the Internet, which, according to Claude Imbert (in Le Point, April 14, 2005), “swarms with insane rumors and pillories.” Together with the organists’ verbal “grapevine,” this generated a campaign of considerable misinformation. The limits of absurdity were indeed reached many times, not least when someone launched the report that “The keyboards [of the new console] are repulsive . . . ” when, in fact, these keyboards are simply those of the Beuchet-Debierre console.
Reason clearly has no place in such polemics, and I do not wish to waste my time—and that of serious readers—in analyzing and refuting all of the crazy assertions that appeared here or there; it would give too much importance to mythomaniacs. Nevertheless, there is a point that needs to be clarified: Marie-Louise Langlais claimed that the “Monuments Historiques” [the official body dealing with historic organs] had not approved the work ordered by the City of Paris. This is fundamentally untrue. On June 14, 1999, the office in charge of organs at the City of Paris sent a letter to the “Direction des Affaires Culturelles d’Ile de France,” asking permission to carry out the proposed work on the Sainte-Clotilde organ. In a letter of June 27, 1999, the “Conservateur Régional des Monuments Historiques d’Ile de France” replied that there was no objection.
In order to put an end to the crazy allegations that were circulating, the ministry of culture entrusted Eric Brottier, advisor for historic organs, with the inspection of the Sainte-Clotilde instrument. He visited it in 2004 and acknowledged what every sensible person already knew: that the organ had been significantly and detrimentally altered in 1960–62, and that—far from damaging it—the recent works had on the contrary given it more coherence. The administration clearly understood that the organ had been and was being used as hostage in a private conflict. Consequently all planned-for work on Parisian organs has been cancelled.
The present specification of the organ follows: three manuals, 61 notes (C1–C6), Grand-Orgue, Positif, Récit; Pédale, 32 notes (C1–G3).

GRAND-ORGUE

16’ Montre
16’ Bourdon
8’ Montre
8’ Bourdon
8’ Viole de gambe
8’ Flûte harmonique
4’ Prestant 4
4’ Flûte
22⁄3’ Quinte
2’ Doublette
Plein-jeu VII
Cornet V
16’ Bombarde 16
8’ Trompette
4’ Clairon
8’ Chamade

POSITIF

16 Bourdon
8’ Montre
8’ Bourdon
8’ Flûte harmonique
8’ Salicional
8’ Unda Maris
51⁄3’ Quinte
4’ Prestant
4’ Flûte octaviante
31⁄5’ Tierce
22⁄3’ Quinte
22⁄7’ Septième
2’ Doublette
13⁄5’ Tierce
11⁄3’ Larigot
1’ Piccolo
Plein-jeu III–VI
8’ Trompette
8’ Clarinette
4’ Clairon
Trémolo

RÉCIT

16’ Quintaton
8’ Flüte harmonique
8’ Viole de gambe
8’ Voix céleste
8’ Bourdon
4’ Principal italien
4’ Flûte octaviante
22⁄3’ Nazard
2’ Octavin
13⁄5’ Tierce
1’ Octavin
Plein-jeu IV
16’ Bombarde
8’ Trompette
8’ Basson-Hautbois
8’ Clarinette
8’ Voix humaine
4’ Clairon
Trémolo
8’ Chamade

PÉDALE

32’ Soubasse
16’ Contrebasse
16’ Soubasse
8’ Flûte
8’ Bourdon
4’ Flûte
4’ Octave
2’ Flûte
32’ Bombarde
16’ Bombarde
16’ Basson
8’ Trompette
4’ Clairon
8’ Chamade
4’ Chamade

Combinaison électroniques
Coupure de pédale
Crescendo ajustable
Tirasses 8, 4
Octaves graves aux claviers
Accouplements manuels 16, 8

Conclusion

What does the future hold for the Sainte-Clotilde organ? It is indeed debatable: some strongly advocate recreating the original 1859 instrument; others think that the evolution should follow its course, according to Tournemire’s personal opinion (from “Notice d’inauguration”): “En outre, je ne me suis pas interdit de songer aux possibilités futures . . . ” (Moreover, I have not ruled out any reflection on future possibilities . . . ).

Translation of French terms:

Tirasse – pedal coupler
Anches – reed (ventil)
Octaves graves – 16' coupler
Octaves aigües – 4’ coupler
Relevage – overhauling
Orage – storm effect. A pedal that, on depression, draws down successively six or seven notes from the bottom of the pedalboard upwards.

Philip Crozier was born in Preston, England, and was a boy chorister in Blackburn and Carlisle Cathedral Choirs. In 1979 he graduated from Cardiff University, being awarded the Glynne Jones Prize for Organ in two consecutive years. He moved to Montreal in 1984 and is married to organist and painter Sylvie Poirier, with whom he has commissioned and premiered eight organ duets, undertaken numerous concert tours, and released several CDs. He maintains an active career as an international recitalist and is in regular demand as an accompanist to various choral and instrumental groups.

Studying with one of the greatest organists of all time was a remarkable privilege in my life. It is already more than thirty years since André Marchal passed away on August 27, 1980 in Saint-Jean-de-Luz, near Hendaye in the south of France, where he had a summer home. I had private lessons with André Marchal in London and Paris from autumn 1978 until July 1980. These lessons came about by chance.
In August 1978 I was browsing through the Musical Times when I saw a notice in small print announcing that André Marchal would be in England in October to give masterclasses and private lessons. I promptly wrote for details, and after an exchange of correspondence with Malcolm Rudland, a private lesson was arranged at All Saints’ Church, Durham Road, London. I was asked to bring any music I wanted, but was told that his métier was Bach, Franck, and Clérambault.

Lesson 1: Fantasia and Fugue in g, BWV 542
At the time, I was a twenty-year-old student at Cardiff University in South Wales and traveled to London on an early train in time for my lesson at 11 am. Arriving in the church, I found that the organ was in the chancel on the left side, with the console backing on to the choir stalls. Several people were already there, including well-known London music critic Felix Aprahamian (Marchal’s host for the visit) and Marchal’s daughter Madame Jacqueline Englert-Marchal. To the right of the attached console, seated on a stool, was 84-year-old André Marchal, blind, his eyes fast shut. The people were talking amongst themselves, the previous pupil having finished his lesson. I felt like an intruder as I approached, but I was made to feel so welcome by Marchal, who leaned forward holding his hand out to greet me as I introduced myself. I felt altogether very humble and awestruck.
I really did not know what to expect, but the following hour was unforgettable and left a very deep impression on me. I had brought the Bach Fantasia and Fugue in G Minor, BWV 542. Marchal spoke in French, which was translated for me by Felix Aprahamian on this occasion. Marchal stated that we must bear in mind the vast structure of the Fantasia, and then felt his way carefully onto the organ bench. His hands went up and down the stopboards of the modest-sized three-manual instrument, halting here and there to draw stops. It was fascinating to watch—there was no question as to which one was which, and no wrong ones were drawn. He played up to bar 9 with full magisterial treatment, absolutely note perfectly and no failing in memory.
Then it was my turn to play, and he covered all aspects of it in his detailed discussion and instruction. His choice of stops and indeed everything throughout this lesson was all carefully directed to the idea that he was putting across and was exactly right all the time. Arriving at bar 31 and once again at the console, Marchal played to the beginning of bar 35 with a layered crescendo. It was so smooth that at first I thought he was using the Swell pedal. He started on the Swell, bringing the Choir in on the D of bar 31, adding the G on the second beat of bar 32, then the last beat all on the Choir, followed similarly by the Great coming in on the tenor F in bar 33, adding the B-flat on the fourth beat and then the E-flat in bar 34, remaining with three notes on the Great and two on the Choir until the first beat of bar 35 (there is a recording of Marchal playing this work at Saint-Eustache on YouTube where he does this: www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQaG_hSejXY).
After the lesson, he said he was “very pleased” with the progress made in the hour, and said I could watch him teach some other pupils that afternoon. I had seen some veritable feats by organists, but there was altogether something intangible about Marchal that made me wish to see more.

Lesson 2: Toccata, Adagio, and Fugue in C, BWV 564
As there was a lesson vacancy the following week, I went to London again, which was his last day in England, and had another lesson, which was kindly delayed for me until after lunch because of an unexpected travel difficulty. I played the Fantasia for him again and he was pleased with it, and so we passed on quickly to the Fugue, during which Malcolm Rudland who had arranged everything arrived, and I was introduced. Marchal covered the Fugue with the same exactness as the Fantasia. We then turned to the Toccata, Adagio and Fugue in C, BWV 564. I scribbled down some notes on the inside cover of my Peters Edition of Bach so I would not forget.
“The beginning of the Toccata is like a question (Choir) and answer (Swell), then the Choir again on the downward scale. The upward scale in bar 2 after the rests is on the Great. Then echo on the Choir at the same parts where there is exact repetition (bar 5); observe the rests.” Marchal adds the Swell reeds for the Pedal solo. “Rallentando as the arpeggios proceed to the low Gs (bar 23).”
In bar 30 from the F-sharp “begin slowly and accelerando. Detach the chords at the end of the pedal solo from the ensuing passage. The Rondo theme (bar 32) is on the Great. The first episode is on the Swell and the second one on the Choir. Detach the left-hand and right-hand eighth notes (bars 32, 34 and similar) where the theme is in the other hand. Observe the length of the rests and the notes. Clearly detach the pedal A, E, F (Bar 70).”
For the Adagio, Marchal uses a Cornet for the solo, with a staccato pedal. He makes an interesting point in bar 7 about the repeated trills being increased in repercussions the way his own teacher Eugène Gigout had told him to do it. In bar 23 Marchal continues the downward scale on the solo stop then plays the chords on an 8′ 4′ 2′ registration. The Fugue was not played.
The lesson concluded with the Gigout Scherzo, which Marchal on this occasion directed to be played on a light registration without reeds. Afterwards I observed another couple of lessons, which included the first movement of Vierne’s Fourth Symphony, which I did not know at the time. Marchal spent much time correcting the printed text, and Felix Aprahamian turned to me and whispered, “by God he knows it!” One pupil offered an improvisation that Marchal guided as it progressed. Unfortunately, improvisation, for which Marchal was so renowned, was a subject I never studied with him. (He was not a composer, but several composers had submitted themes on which he improvised a four-movement organ symphony in London in the 1930s: Albert Roussel, Sibelius, Joseph Jongen, and Vaughan Williams; and then on another occasion with themes sent by Alan Bush, William Walton, Benjamin Britten, and Constant Lambert.)
After this we closed for the day. Outside there was a car waiting. Both back doors were open and Marchal was guided in, but he slipped over an invisible object and fell into the back of the car behind the front seats. Alarmed, I grabbed hold of him and although he was a bit shaken, he saw the funny side of it. He was told who had “saved” him and then Felix Aprahamian took me aside and said “the Master would like to have you as a student.” I was completely overbowled!

Lessons in Paris
I wrote to him in Paris, and shortly afterwards received a letter from France, the envelope bearing the words “Concert André Marchal.” He began: “I shall be most happy to see you and hear you again on Saturday, February 10th [1979], afternoon. Could you come from 2 pm to 4 pm; my daughter will be free then to do the interpreting. . . . I shall be very pleased to hear your Bach, Franck, and do bring as much Couperin and Clérambault as possible, which sound very well on my home organ. Happy New Year and see you soon.” His daughter had written the letter and she arranged all my lessons in Paris as well as acting as interpreter (as my French was rudimentary then), which she did with great skill and clarity throughout every lesson. I was curious over his references to seeing, which he often made, and apparently he knew parts of the south of France very well and would point things out, which he would never see, for the benefit of others.
This lesson, like all the others I had in Paris, was at his home in rue Duroc. When I saw the three-manual organ for the first time (named “Philippe-Emmanuel”) it was quite a sensation for me, never having seen a pipe organ of such magnitude in a private home. The room it was in was not enormous, but also had a grand piano, a sofa, and a large globe of the world in Braille amongst other furniture. It was all just so impressive, and still remains so in my mind.
This is the stoplist of the organ “Philippe-Emmanuel”:
Grand-Orgue (56 notes, 2nd manual) tracker action
8′ Montre (façade)
8′ Flûte à fuseau*
4′ Prestant*
2′ Doublette*
III Plein-Jeu*
16′ Ranquette (Pédale)
* In a Swell box
Récit expressif (56 notes, 3rd manual) tracker action
8′ Principal
8′ Voix Céleste
8′ Quintaton
4′ Principal
2′ Doublette
13⁄5′ Tierce
11⁄3′ Larigot
III Cymbale
8′ Trompette
Positif (56 notes, 1st manual) electric action
8′ Bourdon
4′ Flûte conique
22⁄3′ Nasard
2′ Quarte
13⁄5′ Tierce
1′ Piccolo
8′ Cromorne
Pédale (32 notes) electric action
32′ Soubasse* (acoustic)
16′ Soubasse*
8′ Bourdon*
4′ Flûte*
2′ Flûte*
16′ Ranquette**
4′ Chalumeau**
8′ Trompette***
4′ Clairon***
*By extension
** By extension
*** from Récit expressif
Couplers
Tirasses I, II, III, III 4
Pos/GO, Réc/GO, Réc/Pos
Pos/GO 16, Réc/GO 16
Réc 4

Pistons
6 adjustable pistons for each manual and pedal
6 general pistons for the whole organ
Tutti for the whole organ and each manual
General cancel for the whole organ and each manual
Arbiter Records has reissued on CD the 1956 Zodiac recordings made by Marchal on this instrument before the extension of the Pedal Ranquette 16′ comprising extracts of the Bach Orgelbüchlein, BWV 603–612, 614–15, as well as BWV 564. Marchal describes and plays each stop, with Jacqueline Englert-Marchal translating. There is a quote from Francis Poulenc on the cover: “No one has an ear like Marchal. He has the best ear in Paris.” I have since heard an anecdote of Maurice Duruflé, saying “if you want to hear a true Cromorne, it is on this organ.” Philippe-Emmanuel was the model for the Lincoln Center/Tully Hall instrument inaugurated by Marchal in 1975. The booklet notes, which also contain an extensive biographical note on Marchal, are available online at www.arbiterrecords.com/notes/111notes.html;.
Marchal also had a small two-manual mechanical-action organ by Victor Gonzales named “Jean-Sébastien” in his villa Guereza in Hendaye-Plage, with the following stoplist:
Grand-Orgue
8′ Bourdon
4′ Prestant
II Cymbale
Récit expressif
8′ Quintaton
2′ Doublette
Pédale
16′ Soubasse
8′ Bourdon
4′ Flûte 4 (by mechanical extension)

Three usual manual and pedal couplers.

Marchal’s playing style
For this first lesson in Paris, I had brought the Franck Choral No. 3. Marchal knew it, as everything else, absolutely inside out. He had learned all his vast repertory from Braille, involving the arduous task of learning each line separately and assembling them afterwards, thus making a thorough study of the construction of each work, and this would be pointed out in his interpretation, giving a true re-creation of the music from the inside.
In his lessons as a whole, traits of his own playing style came through. He gave the experience of a full lifetime of performances to me—a young student—condensed into small points. He had a magnificent sense of rubato, as shown in his own recording of Franck’s Choral No. 1, which I later studied with him. He would often play fugal passages (e.g., Vierne Symphony No. 4, second movement in the middle) without reeds, and would delay ever so slightly such imposing entries as the theme in the Pièce Heroïque to give it more drama. The tempo would not be altered, and often there would be no slowing down at a cadence (Vierne Symphony No. 2, first full close).
Frequently he would say “Make that note more waited for,” and at the start of the Choral No. 3, which he emphasized should not be played rapidly, he gave insistence to the first note and every time a similar passage came. There would be no overall alteration of tempo, and any dreaming and dragging that can creep into Franck was eradicated, but it would still be so sensitive and overall extremely musical.
His own sense of coloring was remarkable, and he would gain effects that would do wonderful justice to the music through his intimate knowledge of every part of the piece he was concentrating on. Another point in his interpretations was to repeat notes well and clearly. If he added Swell reeds, the box would always be shut “so as not to be brusque,” and he would not move from full organ to Swell-pianissimo (as in parts of Vierne’s symphonies for example)—he would take the Swell loudly and then diminuendo, but all was done with the greatest of subtlety.
I was allowed to record on cassette all these lessons in Paris, which make fascinating listening. He was a man full of history, and he would occasionally reminisce over the past. Each lesson was two hours long, and for me one was arranged on a Saturday and the other on Monday so that I could hear the organs in Paris on the Sunday. I was a frequent visitor to Saint-Sulpice, where I heard Jean-Jacques Grunenwald on many occasions, and met him along with many others who climbed the steps to the organ loft during the Sunday service.
One day I went to Sainte-Clotilde and Jean Langlais was actually there, and we had a long discussion that I also recorded. I was not aware that he lived next door to Marchal until a few years later! I never heard Pierre Cochereau at Notre-Dame as he was always away on the weekends I was there, but I did hear the organ in the Sunday afternoon recitals.
All this was a tremendous experience for me, especially since a young blind organist, David Aprahamian Liddle, and I were André Marchal’s last two British pupils. David later inherited “Jean-Sébastien,” which my wife Sylvie Poirier and I played for the first time at Felix Aprahamian’s home in Muswell Hill, London, not so long after it arrived there from France. I last saw Marchal in July 1980, a few weeks before his death, and among the works studied then was the Franck Pièce Heroïque (the last complete work I played for him) and the Fourth Symphony of Vierne.

Marchal and the Vierne Fourth Symphony
Marchal supplied a personal note on his association with the work and its composer to Felix Aprahamian for a performance in 1970, which reads in part as follows:

. . . (Vierne) spoke to me of this new Fourth Symphony which, published in the United States, had not yet been heard in France. This was in 1922, when I was preparing to make my first real contact with the public in four historical recitals of organ music ranging from Cabezón to Marcel Dupré. Tempted by the work, the first performance of which Vierne seemed happy to entrust to my care, I set to learning it with enthusiasm.
The four recitals were given under the patronage of the Minister of Fine Arts, and Vierne’s Fourth Symphony opened the third program on Wednesday, 24th January 1923.
The work is of severe technical difficulty, and I remember my nervousness and beating heart on reaching the fugal passage in the Allegro. But happily this remained only an inward uneasiness. The symphony had an immense success. Vierne embraced me on the platform and let his feelings flow in a flood of affectionate and encouraging words. Having to leave the hall before the end of the recital, he wrote me the following letter the same evening:
“Thank you again with all my heart, my dear lad, for the great joy you have just given me. I will retain forever the memory of this emotion, which is one of the most profound that I have experienced in my life as an artist. You have admirably understood and felt this work, which is brightened for a moment by the fragments of a happy dream, and finishes in a fever. You have interpreted it like a poet, and this is manifest. I could not refrain from telephoning B. this evening so that he could tell you of my enthusiasm before this note reaches you. See in this a sincere and spontaneous gesture, the natural reflex of people of my kind and one that cannot be withheld.”

To learn the work, Vierne had loaned Marchal, for the Braille transcription, his own beautifully bound copy, a present from the publisher, G. Schirmer. (Marchal also described this occasion in one of my lessons.)

Marchal’s four historical recitals
These four concerts given by Marchal in the Salle Berlioz at the Paris Conservatoire to a highly critical audience, consisting largely of professionals, were of representative works by the following composers: Cabezón, Frescobaldi, Buxtehude, de Grigny, Bach, Daquin, Couperin, DuMage, Mendelssohn, Schumann, Franck, Saint-Saëns, Boëllmann, Widor, Guilmant, Gigout, Déodat de Séverac, Tournemire, Gabriel Dupont, Barié, and d’Indy, along with Dupré’s newly published Prelude and Fugue in B major. So already Marchal’s memorized repertory was quite extensive. He developed this later into a series of recitals at the Palais de Chaillot in Paris in 1942 under the heading “Les Grandes Formes de la Musique d’Orgue,” with commentary by Norbert Dufourcq. (See the flyer for the series he gave in private homes from December 1935 to March 1936, on p. 24.)

Recitals at the Cleveland Museum of Art
Since his death, I have been more and more amazed by his phenomenal repertory from all the programs collected by Felix Aprahamian of Marchal’s recitals, duplicates of which he gave to me in the 1980s. These programs are from all over Europe, the USA, and Australia, spanning from the 1930s to the 1970s. Among them stands out a booklet of the complete series of ten recitals given at the Cleveland Museum of Art during the 1947–1948 season (most Wednesdays from October to December and two in January), entitled “The Large Forms of Music for Organ,” which is a further extension of the aforementioned. The subjects are (the titles are in French in the booklet):

1) Le prélude et fugue
2) La Toccata
3) La fantaisie
4) Chacone, Canzone, Passacaille
5) Musique d’orgue d’inspiration grégorienne
6) La Musique d’inspiration populaire
7) Le Choral expressif et contrapuntique
8) Le Choral à variations et la Partita
9) Sonate, concerto, symphonie
10) Le thème libre

In total, he performed 96 works of all periods without duplication. Each concert ended with an improvisation in the form to which the program was devoted. Walter Blodgett, then Curator of Musical Arts, wrote in the booklet “M. Marchal is esteemed as one of the great musicians in our time. To be able to present so distinguished an artist in this illuminating survey of musical literature is a privilege.”

Works studied with Marchal
Here is a list of the repertory I studied with André Marchal.
In London (lessons not recorded):
Bach­—Fantasia and Fugue in G Minor, BWV 542; Toccata, Adagio (not the Fugue), BWV 564
Gigout—Scherzo (Dix Pièces, No. 4)

In Paris (lessons recorded):
Franck—Trois Chorals (No. 1 dedicated to Marchal’s teacher, Eugène Gigout); Cantabile; Pièce Héroïque
Vierne—Symphonie II, op. 20; Symphonie IV, op. 32; Impromptu, op. 54, no. 2 (dedicated to André Marchal); Carillon de Westminster, op. 54, no. 6
Clérambault—Suite du Premier ton: Grand Plein Jeu, Fugue
Bach—Prelude and Fugue in E Minor, BWV 548; Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, BWV 543; Trio Sonata No. 2 in C Minor, BWV 526, Vivace

Marchal answers stylistic
questions
In these lessons I asked multiple questions that I had prepared beforehand. For some of the questions I already had a good sense of what Marchal might answer, but I wanted to hear what he had to say directly. Here is a small sample, with the actual words he used, via translation:

1) PC: What are the general rules for “tying over” in César Franck? (quoting the opening of the Choral theme in bar 30 of Choral 3).
AM: Theoretically you only repeat the notes that are repeated at the same pitch in the same part, but when you have two voices that succeed each other on the same note, that is when they are legato—unless it is specifically indicated otherwise. The different voices are treated exactly as you would treat vocal parts.

2) PC: Does the “tying over” rule apply to other composers of the period?
AM: It is the same for Vierne—but Vierne is a bit different; he uses those ties just like violin bows. Vierne used those ties because he wanted one to sense the direction of the melody. And Vierne was a violinist—and so sometimes in his music you realize that he thinks of the bow of the violin. But it would be a big mistake every time you have a rupture of the legato to make a big silence. And sometimes you just have a look at it enough not to do it.

3) PC: Do we stick rigidly strictly to the string-like phrasing of Vierne?
AM: YES! And you must have a very muscular way of playing. Vierne insisted very much on the rhythm. He did not like so much metronomically played music, but he liked a good strong rhythm. Keep in mind that Vierne was above all a musician. He would not like to have his music being ruined by playing too strictly in tempo. Generally speaking he does indicate what he wants.

4) PC: What is a good substitute for the Voix humaine in Franck?
AM: The Célestes—you can use the célestes—it is not the same in effect. But the important thing is, it is quite different from the other registration—but it is most important that it comes out as something entirely different from the rest.

5) PC: (AM had mentioned in one lesson that he is quite sure that some details in registration in Franck’s Chorals are not probably what he meant). Are his other organ works more “exact” in this context?
AM: For all the works of Franck, not just the Chorals, you must always keep in mind that all his registrations were meant for his organ at Sainte-Clotilde. Remember that this instrument was so special. You always must adapt the registration to the instrument you are playing on. [In his recordings of the complete organ works on Erato made at Saint-Eustache, Paris, also reissued on CD, Marchal supplies a valuable note on his registrations.]

6) PC: Can Swell to Pedal be used in Franck? (There was no such stop at Sainte-Clotilde in Franck’s time.)
AM: Of course! Franck was the first one to be sorry not to have one.

7) PC: When it specifies for example Fonds et anches 16, 8, 4 in French organ music of this period, can we use the mixtures also? What is the rule for using mixtures in this context?
AM: It means also mixtures when there are some mixtures. Cavaillé-Coll invented the idea of dividing the stops of each manual into two to make the registrations easier. Generally speaking, on one side you would have all the 16, 8 and 4 foundations. The 2-foot, mixtures, cornets and reeds were on a separate chest. In order to have those you had to push on a pedal [ventil], which also allowed you to suppress them. Before the era of adjustable pistons, it was a way of helping you change the stops. And that was not only in France. The Germans had a different and complicated system. [AM was referring to the Freikombination system.]

8) PC: In Clérambault, can ornaments be added at will, and can the existing ones be made more expressive by prolonging?
AM does not think it is necessary to add them—“it is safest to do as written. Not everybody does this. It is certainly possible to make them more expressive by prolonging them. Often ornaments replace the expression of the Swell box, which didn’t exist yet.”
On the subject of notes inégales:
AM: “It is a matter of taste. Each one must do according to his own taste.” But he is not very attracted himself, considering it a bit of a fashion.
On the subject of ornaments:
AM: All ornaments should be played on the beat—where there is a mordent, appoggiatura, etc., always on the beat.

9) PC asking about the best editions of de Grigny, Daquin, Marchand.
AM likes the Guilmant edition very much except for the registration. “The registration is very bad because Guilmant tried to adapt it to the nineteenth-century organ. Guilmant was very conscientious however, so if we avoid the replacement registrations he suggests, his editions are the best.”

10) PC: What are your registration plans for Trio Sonatas, particularly No. 2 and No. 6?
AM: “It is very easy. Always an equivalence of sound but a different timbre.” In the second movement of BWV 526 he likes using a reed stop in the LH, which makes a nice dialogue with the flute RH. Since the tempo is slow there, a 16′ can be used on the Pedal. For the third movement a little more sound, for example, the Cornet.

In one lesson he played through the complete Bach Fugue in C, BWV 547, demonstrating phrasing, registration, and manual changes. Several other works were also used as examples in many lessons, where he would play and explain, jumping directly into the middle of a piece to make a point.

About the recorded lessons
I am most grateful to Claude G. Thompson of Montreal, who transferred the original cassette tapes of my lessons to CD in 2008 to ensure their preservation. Listening to them again after three decades, it hardly seems it is so long ago and it is like having the lessons all over again. Sometimes I cringe at my innocence, but at the time most of this repertory was very fresh in my fingers, so I had not fallen into the habit of doing it all the “wrong way,” which can be hard to unlearn afterwards. Since having these lessons, and living in Montreal for more than 25 years and being married to Sylvie Poirier, who is French-Canadian, I understand everything Marchal says in these recordings directly, so it is doubly enlightening for me hearing his teaching in his own language also. I have always tried to apply what I learned from him, transcribing the lessons into my scores.
There are thirteen CDs of lessons I recorded in Paris in 1979 and 1980. In some parts there is a lot of repetition and revision covering the same passages. The Franck Chorals are conveniently on one CD each, approximately one hour each, except Choral 2, which is 77′55″. Pièce Héroïque and Cantabile are on the same CD (63′45″). BWV 543 and 526 are on two CDs of nearly one hour each. BWV 548 and the Clérambault are one CD (71′00″). Vierne Symphonie IV is on three CDs (75′05″, 51′50″, and 65′09″), plus 2′30″ on a fourth CD with Impromptu and Carillon de Westminster, totaling 53′11″ with related questions. Vierne Symphonie II is on two CDs (59′10″ and 65′54″), including 37′51″ of questions. Ideas on Vierne Symphonie III (the very last part of my final lesson with him), which I did not play for him total 10′16″ and are tagged onto the Symphonie IV 51′50″ CD.
Generally, the organ sounds very loud in contrast to the voices. There are extraneous noises from time to time. The telephone rings sometimes and is deafeningly loud (perhaps the cassette machine was close to the bell!) and it covers some of the spoken word. Marchal’s cat, present at some of these lessons, can be heard here and there, and Marchal’s clocks chime beautifully as we go along. The windows were open when it was warm and so there is the sound of people walking past outside, some no doubt curious on hearing the organ as the room was on ground level.
André Marchal left a profound mark on those who knew him, and extensive tributes poured in after his death. In 1981 L’Association des Amis de l’Orgue published Hommage à André Marchal, a special issue of the trimonthly review L’Orgue. This was reprinted and expanded by the American Guild of Organists in 1997. Entitled Tribute to André Marchal, it contains a number of personal homages from a fascinating cross section of organists, students of Marchal (myself included), organbuilders, composers, friends and colleagues, and people outside the music profession, all of whom have something in common—André Marchal had touched their lives in a very significant way. The Tribute also contains details of the two Marchal home organs in Paris and Hendaye, many photographs, and a complete discography. Much of this information is also available on the André Marchal website www.andremarchal.com (in French). In 1982 the Académie André Marchal was founded www.academieandremarchal.org (in French), whose initial focus was a teaching academy, but from 1991 in association with the town of Biarritz, a Prix André Marchal was established within an international organ competition.
So the life and work of André Marchal continues through his legacy of recordings and students. ■