Dupré recordings

Note: All letters, photos, articles, and other memorabilia used here are from the personal library of Dr. Alexander Boggs Ryan, housed at Trinity Episcopal Church, Longview, Texas, and Kilgore College, Kilgore, Texas. The letters were first publicly presented at the Gregg County Historical Society, Longview, Texas, by David Ford during the 2012 East Texas Pipe Organ Festival. All spelling and punctuation has been retained as found in the original letters.

Introduction

Marcel Dupré and Alexander Boggs Ryan—By one who knew them both

Marcel Dupré (1886–1971) had many American pupils, notable among whom were Emory Gallup, Carl Weinrich, Clarence Watters, and Dora Poteet. Although the foregoing were better suited to his approach than some others, there is no doubt that Clarence Watters and Dora Poteet were shining examples of his tradition and that they in turn passed this legacy on to their pupils in a way that insured reverence and respect.

Alexander Boggs Ryan (1928–1979) possessed an enviable and, in some ways, unique musical pedigree. Quite apart from his excellent piano background and well before he came to Dupré, he had received the Great Tradition (the Parisian organ school’s “apostolic succession”: Bach to Kittel to Rinck to Hesse to Lemmens to Guilmant & Widor and their pupils) from Dora Poteet Barclay. Helen Hewitt, one of Lynnwood Farnam’s pupils at the Curtis Institute, would become another early influence. (Although Farnam lacked a direct connection to the Parisian organ tradition, he was on intimate terms with many of its great lights. Farnam was in and out of many famous organ lofts and established bonds with Albert Dupré, Henri Mulet, and Charles Tournemire among others. He and the Duprés often met at Claude Johnson’s country house. As is well known, Vierne’s Sixth Symphony is dedicated to him.)

When Boggs arrived in Paris in 1952, Marcel Dupré was in the final years of his professorship at the Conservatoire. In previous decades his organ class included a glittering roll-call of greats, from Olivier Messiaen to Jeanne Demessieux, to name only two. In the immediate post-war period alone there had been, among the women, Françoise Renet, Marie-Madeleine Chevalier, and the fabulous Suzanne Chaisemartin; among the men, Pierre Labric, Jean Costa, and the unforgettable Pierre Cochereau. Beginning in 1954, Dupré would place the organ class in the hands of his faithful Rolande Falcinelli and assume the title of director of that august institution.

Much nonsense has been written and muttered-about concerning the so-called Olympian aloofness of Marcel Dupré but the facts, as well as the testimonies of his pupils, tell a very different story. It is true that the moment he began playing, one felt strongly the presence of an artistic giant—a god of music. In that respect his playing was quite unlike any other of my acquaintance. Privately, he was the most affectionate and loving master that one could possibly imagine, full of fatherly care for every aspect of one’s life and thought. High standards and unremitting work were necessary but he inspired and guided with a unique, genial humor and sweetness.

Boggs, I believe, was an almost ideal subject for study with Dupré. With his superb pianism (very important to the master) and his familiarity with the Parisian organ school, he was able to imbibe the maximum benefit from study in Meudon. Boggs’ fine Southern manners would have been appreciated by the Dupré family. In addition, he brought Dupré repertoire that would not have been part of the usual conservatory organ class drill (i.e., the Reubke Sonata). The notoriously miserable organ in the Salle d’Orgue had recently been replaced by a new, electric-action instrument. Dupré was able to provide this venue for Boggs’ début in 1953.

As a fitting coda to his years of study, Boggs earned his DMA at Ann Arbor in 1963. He studied with Helen Hewitt’s classmate, Robert Noehren, another member of Farnam’s celebrated Curtis organ class.* Marilyn Mason was also an influence, with her connection to Palmer Christian, a sometime pupil of both Straube and Guilmant.

Alexander Boggs Ryan had an acute sense that this great cloud of witnesses had contributed in many and various ways to his musical footprint. In my opinion, his best years as a player were, roughly speaking, a ten-year period from 1954 to 1964. Everything that he played seemed to contain a leading soprano line and cantabile legato, including Reger, a composer that benefited greatly from his relaxed, lyric approach. 

—Karl Watson

Staten Island, New York 

*In the years before his early death, Lynnwood Farnam taught the first organ class at the then newly founded Curtis Institute of Music. The members of the class were Lawrence Apgar, Robert Cato, Helen Hewitt, Alexander McCurdy, Robert Noehren, and Carl Weinrich. 

Letters

CONSERVATOIRE NATIONAL
DE MUSIQUE

PARIS, le 22 February 1955

14, RUE DE MADRID, 8E

LABORDE 20-80

LE DIRECTEUR

I have pleasure to state that Mr. Alexander Boggs Ryan who has studied organ with me during a year has proved a most interesting and satisfactory student. Through steady and intelligent work he has made continued progress. He has a fine brilliant technique and undeniable musical gifts.

He has been through an exhaustive repertory of classical and modern works with me and given a fine organ recital which has won him applause in the organ hall of the National Conservatory of music in Paris. Serious and earnest in his work, of perfect good-breeding, I am confident he will fulfil with distinction any post he may be entrusted with.

(signed) Marcel Dupré

§

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

November 12th 1961

My dear friend,

I returned from concerts in Germany last night and found your good letter for which many thanks. I was glad to hear your news about your work and activities.

I am sending you the photos dedicated. When I have a little time, I will look up whether I have the signature of Philipp and Widor, but I am leaving to-night for a concert tour in England and have still much work on hand.

The concert for Liszt’s commemoration was not a recital, but a concert with orchestra at Palais de Chaillot. Two transcriptions of mine for organ and orchestra were performed, with myself at the organ and the Pasdeloup orchestra: Fantasy on “ad nos” and the transcription of the piano work “St. Francois de Paule marchant sur les flots.” Both had a great success.

Yes, the long-playing record of Dora Poteet was sent to me. Her death has been a great sorrow for us. She was such a remarkable artist and a fine woman.

I also have the photo taken at St. Sulpice with Widor, Philipp and myself, but thank you all the same for your
kind thought.

I certainly was most happy about the wonderful reception I had in Detroit and it was so good to see again so many old students such as yourself and so many friends who had come from quite a distance.

With affectionate thoughts from Madame Dupré and myself and best wishes for continued success,

Yours ever,

(signed) Marcel Dupré

§

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

OBS. 14-45

March 27, 1962

My dear friend,

Many thanks for your letter. It was kind of you to write about the article on Alexandre Guilmant.

Thanks for the interesting programs you sent me and for the French program for your third recital.

I congratulate you on your recent fine appointment at Western Michigan University and am very happy to see that your hard work and talent are being acknowledged. I shall always be interested in the progress of your musical career.

The centenary of the organ of Saint-Sulpice will be commemorated on May 3rd. It was dedicated on April 29, 1862 by César Franck, Guilmant and Saint-Saens. So, I shall play some of their music, also my Passion-Symphony etc. The organ is always magnificent.

With warmest regards,

Sincerely,

(signed) Marcel Dupré

§

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

OBS. 14-45

April 25, 1962

My dear friend,

Many thanks for your kind letter, for the interesting programs you gave in New-York and for the photo at the organ in Detroit. I am returning the other two which I have inscribed according to your wish.

With every good wish,

Cordially,

(signed) Marcel Dupré

P. S. In 1956, I recorded several works for the Westminster Co. on the St. Sulpice organ, among which my “Stations of the Cross.” I know the Company has had financial difficulties, and I have, of course, never got any royalties, but this is not what I am concerned about. I have written to them to inquire whether my “Stations of the Cross” were available, but they never replied. The recording of that big work means a lot to me and I should be more than sorry if my work came to nothing.

Do you know anything about it or could you kindly make some inquiries? Many thanks in advance.

§

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

OBS. 14-45

May 10th 1962

My dear friend,

Many thanks for your letters and for the information about the Westminster Co. and their successor. I am writing to them.

How kind of you to have got my “Stations of the Cross” as a gift to me. I shall let you know when the record comes. I have the two other records.

I am sending you the program of the St. Sulpice organ centenary. The concert was a tremendous success. Thousands packed the church and the organ sounded more gloriously than ever.

Concerning the rebuild of Notre-Dame, the rebuild is not completed yet. The new console has been connected with the organ, but the combinations are not ready yet, nor the new stops. So, at the present moment, but for the new console, the organ is as it was.

As for Saint-Sulpice, I keep my own beautiful console and organ as they are, as they were when I started playing there as Widor’s assistant over fifty years ago.

I am sorry not to be able to send you a program of the bi-centennial of Liszt, but I have none left.

With kindest regards and best wishes,

Yours cordially,

(signed) Marcel Dupré

§

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

OBS. 14-45

October 14, 1962

My dear friend,

I am just back from Holland, where I gave four recitals during the week and find your letter, for which I thank you. I am delighted to hear you are doing so well both in your teaching and concerts. Thanks for the interesting clippings you sent.

I am glad to hear you will play at Rockefeller Chapel, Chicago during Lent. Such a magnificent organ! I shall think of you playing my “Stations.”

As regards the Variations of the Symphonie Gothique, it was Widor’s wish that one of them, the Canon in trio form, should be omitted. He considered it as too scholastic, so I always complied with his wish.

When I write to Marriott, I will certainly put in a good word about you.

You inquire about my activities? The next will be the performance of my Oratorio, “La France au Calvaire,” for choir, soloists, organ and orchestra, at Palais de Chaillot on November 4th at the Pasdeloup concerts.

Then I am leaving for Switzerland on November 10th. I have another busy year ahead. A new organ work of mine will be released this month.

We both keep in the best of health.

With every good wish,

Cordially,

(signed) Marcel Dupré

§

Tuesday, 12 February 1963

Dear M. Dupré:

This is my first communication to you in 1963, and I trust that this finds you and Mme. Dupré feeling well and busily engaged in activities that you both love so much.

We have had a terrible winter so far: much more snow than in former record years. I’m not used to it, of course, originating from Texas, but am confronted with the facts at hand.

I hope to finish my Doctorate at the University of Michigan by June. I’m working on my third and final recital, which will be all French. It includes some of your “Stations” as well as your “Noel Variations.” In addition, I’m preparing a document on all three recitals, which will contain program notes and an analysis of some 30 works.

Is M. Legouix (the second-hand music dealer) still alive? The reason I ask is that, when I studied with you ten years ago, I bought a considerable amount of music from him in rare editions—mostly German publications that had long been out of print. At that time I studied the Reubke “Sonata” with you, which I performed at the Conservatoire. I tried to locate an “original” of that work, originally published by J. Schuberth & Co., Leipzig. This organ-work was not among Legouix’s holdings at the time, although he promised to get me a copy. I have never heard from him since.

Now, the point is this: I would like, if possible, to get these compositions from Legouix. They are all works by Julius Reubke, and would be helpful in the preparation of my document. They include piano works, also. They are the following, and I’d appreciate your giving M. Legouix a call on the phone in order that he might make some inquiries for me. For this favor, I’d be
most appreciative:

Titles, as they appear in German:

Organ: 1) Sonate in c moll. Der 94ste Psalm. J. Schuberth

Piano: 2) Sonate in c moll. Der 94ste Psalm. Edition Cotta

(transcribed for piano by August Stradal, Stuttgart, 1926)

Piano: 3) Sonate in B moll. J. Schuberth

Piano: 4) Scherzo (not certain of publisher, probably J. Schuberth)

The above enumeration indicates one copy of each, as to get will take some work on the part of M. Legouix.

Cher maître, I realize that you are a busy man. If you do not have time to attend to this for me, just send me the address of M. Legouix. I don’t have it, or would write to him direct.

Am off for recitals in Chicago, Wichita (Kansas), Columbus (Ohio), and New York City during March and April. Wish me luck.

Sincerely,

(signed) Alexander Boggs Ryan

P. S. I forgot to tell you. My information states that Stradal also made an organ edition of the Reubke “Sonata,” in which he made some corrections (notes) indicated by Liszt. This was also Edition Cotta, and I’m interested in this, too. So tell Legouix about it. Thanks.

§

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

OBS. 14-45

March 18th, 1963

My dear friend,

I apologize for this belated answer to your letter, but we have been away a good deal.

We found Legouix address, which is:

4 Rue CHAUVEAU-LAGARDE

8e

Madame Dupré called at the shop this afternoon and was received by Madame Legouix from whom she heard that her husband died seven years ago accidentally. But she is carrying on his work with some help. She could not tell me whether she had the works you ask for, but is going to make some research and let me know. She took my phone number and has your list of works in hand.

So, as soon as I have some news, I will let you know.

Cordially yours,

(signed) Marcel Dupré

§

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

OBS. 14-45

October 2, 1963

My dear friend,

As soon as your letter of August 7 arrived I wrote to Madame Legouix saying you had never heard from her and asking whether she had been able to find any of the rare editions you wanted.

Her reply to my letter came yesterday only. (She may have been away during the summer vacation.) A very short reply it was as you may see, at the back of the first letter you wrote in February. (“With my apologies for not finding this.” L. Legouix) I am sorry it will prove disappointing for you.

Our most sincere congratulations on your Doctor’s degree from the University of Michigan.

We were shocked to hear about Parvin Titus’ terrible accident but were somewhat relieved when we were told recently by Mr. Cunkle, the editor of “The Diapason,” that he was getting better. But his poor wife!

With affectionate regards from both,

(signed) J. Dupré

§

December 3, 1963

M. and Mme. Marcel Dupré

40, Boulevard Anatole France

Meudon, S.- et - O.

France

My dear friends :

It is with a sense of extreme regret that I have just read of the passing of your daughter, Marguerite, on October 26, 1963. I had no idea that she had been desperately ill, and there was no indication of this in Mme. Dupré’s letter of early October.

Herefore, please accept my sincerest sympathies in this your hour of extreme sorrow. Please convey to Marguerite’s husband and her children my heartfelt shock upon receiving this news.

I am looking forward to seeing you next summer, as I contemplate my first trip to Europe in ten years.

Very sincerely,

Dr. Alexander Boggs Ryan

Chairman of the Organ Dept.

Assistant Professor of Music

Western Michigan University

ABR/leh

P. S. In as much as Marguerite and the late Dora Poteet Barclay were close friends some twenty-five years ago, I shall inform Dora’s husband of this tragedy; for surely he will want to write to you.

§

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

OBS. 14-45

January 6, 1964

Dear friend,

Many thanks for your letter of sympathy in our great sorrow. We are heart-broken, for our beloved Marguerite always filled our lives with happiness. Life will never be the same again for us. But we have to go on for the dear children she has left us.

Mr. Dupré is very courageous, though, and has resumed all his duties. Music helps us and I am always looking forward to St. Sulpice on Sundays.

We are going next week to Frankfurt, where a group of organists is to give a concert of M. Dupré’s works, and the day before, he will be giving a recital of French music.

We have read the programs you sent us with great interest, always touched about your devotion to your master’s music.

Affectionately Yours,

J. Dupré

§

Mr. & Mme. Marcel Dupré

40, BOULEVARD ANATOLE 

FRANCE

MEUDON (S. &-O.)

Telephone 14-45

Observatoire

Undated handwritten notecard

Dear friend,

Many thanks for your nice card and for the interesting press notices. We are happy to know your concerts are so successful. We both keep well and Mr. Dupré is as busy as ever with concert playing, composition and teaching. He has made some new recordings for Philips recently—a disc of Bach Chorales.

§

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

92 – MEUDON

027-14-45

Friday 23 July 1971

My dear friend,

Your letter reached me this morning and I was profoundly moved by all you wrote from your heart. Yes, I have received letters and telegrams by hundreds from all over the world and am far from having answered them all. But yours, which came apart, gets this returned answer.

The sudden passing away of my beloved husband was a terrible shock. On Whit-Sunday, May 30th, he was playing his two masses at St. Sulpice, ending at 12 o’clock with an improvisation on the Easter Alleluia which a friend had requested, and a few hours later, at the end of the afternoon, all was over. After St. Sulpice, we had driven back home, had a quiet lunch together, then he read his Sunday paper and said suddenly: “I feel a little cold; I am going to lie down on my bed.” Shortly after, he lost consciousness and passed without any pain. When the Doctors arrived, there was nothing to be done; rupture of abdominal aneurism.

I am heart-broken. After our many years spent together in such close union, the loss of that wonderful companion, so great, but so simple, so kind, so loving is so hard to bear. 

But I thank God for his peaceful end, a blessing for him, this end he deserved after his great life of devotion to his art, to his students, to his friends, and his humanity. Everybody loved him. 

I try to get some strength from so many happy memories of our life, particularly from the very last ones. On April 22, he played for the last time in London, at the Albert Hall for the celebration of the centenary of the Hall in which he had given his first concert abroad in a concert hall fifty years before, in December 1920. He had such an ovation from the impressive crowd: 7000 people. We were both deeply moved. I am sorry I have no programs of the Albert Hall.

Then for his 85th birthday, there was a most moving evening at St. Sulpice: his oratorio “De Profundis” was sung during the first hour, then a big group of his former pupils at the Conservatoire where he had taught for 28 years, gathered around him in the centre of the church; Messiaen, Langlais, Cochereau, Mme. Durufle, etc., etc., read beautiful tributes before him.

A week later, on May 13th, Rolande Falcinelli who succeeded him as the head of the organ class when he was appointed Director of the Conservatoire gave a recital with his 2nd Symphony and he concluded the recital by a great improvisation.

The funeral took place at St. Sulpice on June 3rd, in the packed church. The service was so beautiful, with the Requiem Gregorian Mass which I had requested.

He was buried in our little cemetery in Meudon, a few minutes from our home, with our darling Marguerite. We both used to go to her grave every day. Now I go alone until I join them.

Marguerite was our only child. The girl you saw at the concert last year was a cousin from Rouen.

Now, I am trying to be courageous for my three grandchildren, all three students and who still need me. They are sweet kids and their grandfather loved them so.

With many thanks for your sympathy,

Sadly Yours,

J. Marcel-Dupré

P. S. I don’t get The Diapason and would be so grateful if you would send me a clipping of the article.

§

French Institute

(Institut de France)

Academy of Arts

(Académie des Beaux-Arts)

Funeral of Marcel Dupré,

Member of the Musical Composition division,

held in St. Sulpice Church

Paris, 3rd June 1971.

ORATIONS

By

M. Jacques Carlu,

President of the Académie des Beaux-Arts

And

M. Emmanuel Bondeville,

Permanent Secretary of the Académie des Beaux-Arts

Paris,

MCMLXXI

Institute publication

Printers to the Institute:

1971 No. 13

Firmin-Didot & Co.

Rue Jacob 56.

ORATION

by

M. Jacques Carlu

President of the Académie des Beaux-Arts

Madame,

My dear colleagues,

Ladies and Gentlemen,

It is with deep emotion that I come here today, bringing in the name of the whole Académie des Beaux-Arts, a last farewell to our illustrious colleague and friend Marcel Dupré, who has been taken away so suddenly from the affectionate companionship of his family and his countless disciples and admirers.

On this sad day, it is not only the French Institute and our society which shares your mourning, Madame, but also the whole world of music or as one can truly put it, all the musicians in the world, for, in the unanimous opinion of his peers, Marcel Dupré must be classed in the first rank among musicians, composers and organists of all time.

Member of the music division of the Académie des Beaux-Arts 15 years, he was one of the most remarkable figures in its long history.

Without any doubt Dupré was a great artist, as his whole life and career bear witness, and his immense musical output will presently be described for us by his lifelong friend and companion, and fellow native of Rouen, our permanent secretary, the musician Emmanuel Bondeville, with all his wide knowledge and the brotherly affection he felt for the musician who has passed away.

But one didn’t have to be a musician to admire Marcel Dupré, for although not everyone is gifted with a good ear, you only needed to have a heart in order to love the man.

For among all those who in many countries have drawn near to Marcel Dupré, is there a single one who could forget the man, the friend, or the master? He was so innately good and infinitely gracious, always ready to share the fruits of his experience and his immense talent.

Whatever the circumstances he could never be selfish or insensible—his natural and unvarying kindliness would not allow it. So the great artist Marcel Dupré was surrounded by much admiration and loving respect among all the circles he frequented.

Rarely can France have possessed a better ambassador for the art and culture of our country, hence the warmth of the welcome which greeted him on his numerous tours abroad, especially in the United States.

Happily he is not dead altogether since a large part of himself will never pass away. Then Death, where is thy victory? For he will pass through this supreme test and emerge still greater; and the glorious reputation which he leaves us is as the sun shining from the world beyond the grave.

Thinking of the life of the soul in the kingdom of shade which is now his, where is the new Paul Valery who can describe for us in the style of “Eupalinos” the fascinating discussions which Marcel Dupré will be able to have with his well-loved J. S. Bach, and with all the giants of music whom he will meet in the Elysian Fields.

For us, it remains to measure the enormous void created by the disappearance of our dear and illustrious colleague. One can succeed to the post of a Marcel Dupré, but one can never replace him.

In this day of sadness, Madame, may I express to you and your children the deep and sorrowing sympathy felt by the members of the Academy of Arts, all of whom share your grief. But as the great Christian orator Massillon, who belonged to the Academy more than two centuries ago and whose statue stands before us in this Square of Saint-Sulpice, said in one of his famous sermons: “the feelings which a sudden death arouse in our hearts are feelings of a day of grief, as though death itself was a matter of a single day.”

Dear Marcel Dupré, our friend and colleague, you rest assured that our grief will be unending.

ORATION

pronounced by

M. Emmanuel BONDEVILLE

Permanent Secretary of the Académie des Beaux-Arts

Madame,

My dear Colleagues,

Ladies and Gentlemen,

How can one call to mind the great figure of Marcel Dupré without recapitulating the main stages of the career which marked his astonishing and ineluctable ascendance?

He had this great privilege of the strong, of following with sureness the ordained path, climbing it with firm undeviating steps, and reaching the higher summits by an unbroken ascending curve.

He always remained close to his roots. The rue du Vert-Buisson, at Rouen, was an excellent musical centre. The province and regions provide generous facilities for the arts, for study, practice, and the faith which gives life meaning and nobility.

Albert Dupré, the organist of St. Ouen, which possesses one of the finest organs in France, used to run a choral society “Perfect Harmony” (L’Accord Parfait), which enabled the music-lovers of Rouen to become familiar with the masterpieces of music, notably the great works of Bach. His wife, Alice Dupré, a cellist, possessed a lively musical intelligence.

In such a home, an exceptionally gifted child found the most favourable climate possible for the flowering of his talents. Without having frequented that blessed dwelling, called simply “le Vert-Buisson” (the green bush)—the name of the street—by the people of Rouen, one could not possibly assess how much ardour, hard work, and faith, the love of a difficult art can muster in order to achieve the most important objectives, which are to arouse curiosity, to consolidate knowledge, and to create enthusiasm.

For his enlightened parents applied the utmost care in nourishing the talent of Marcel Dupré, which declared itself early. At the age of twelve, he performed the opening recital on the organ at the church of St. Vivien. He soon became a living legend for the young musicians of the town. My mother was always talking to me about him, with the ardour of an admiring music-lover, who hoped to inspire her young offspring at an early age with sound reasons for working, hoping, and admiring in his turn.

These reasons quickly multiplied. Recitals succeeded one another, keeping always the same high standard of perfection. Prizes accumulated, marking the fruits of a complete musical training, including as they did prizes for performance on the piano and the organ, and the Grand Prix de Rome for composition. At the same time, to hear Marcel Dupré praising the teaching of Guilmant and Widor, was a lesson in their contribution to music, but it was also a lesson in modesty, a spiritual quality which this great man never forsook.

In spite of these successes, which gave as much pleasure to those who loved him as they did to himself, an even higher summit was to be reached in 1920, when Marcel Dupré played in ten recitals the whole of the organ works of John Sebastian Bach, from memory.

This wasn’t merely a feat of stupendous prowess, but a manifestation of something even greater, for Marcel Dupré had performed these recitals with the meticulous care which he insisted on applying to every act, whether of interpretation or of creation. “Do you know,” said his father one day to me, “that before giving these recitals, Marcel consulted all the editions, and all the available manuscripts of the works of Bach, particularly those in the Berlin library?”

The news of these concerts was to spread like lightning. One of the most impressive figures of the art of sound had revealed himself.

At the same time, Marcel Dupré brought the art of improvisation to an undreamt of level of proficiency. Here, too, there was no room for mere facility. A rigorous mastery led to fullness of expression. Each work revealed the fathomless resources offered by a simple theme, but instead of this result being achieved by patient work at the desk, the edifice of sound sprang forth from an act of spontaneous creation.

It is true that the act of improvisation had had some impressive exponents. César Franck had made an unforgettable impression on those who heard his improvisations on the organ at St. Clothilde during the Magnificat.

Dupré’s teacher, Widor, was equally admired. But his pupil’s contribution gave the king of instruments a still greater primacy. Alone of instruments, the organ enables a single player to build a whole cathedral of sound on the spot, using a variety of tone colours to rival the orchestra. As he unceasingly developed his talent, Marcel Dupré attained a breadth of expression hitherto unknown.

His tours of America began at that time, and soon set the seal on his reputation as the premier French organist; he amazed his transatlantic audience by improvising a complete symphony in four movements for the first time in the history of organ music.

He knew fame. This manifested itself in many ways, sometimes the most unexpected and simple ways, which were all the more moving, like the time when a young Australian came to work in my family and asked, on her arrival, “Where can one hear the organist Marcel Dupré?”

The composer didn’t relinquish his work. Rarely can the improviser and the composer have been so perfectly matched as in the person of Marcel Dupré, for his spontaneous impulses, like his reflective and poignant meditations, were as perfect as the written composition.

To list his works, which ranged from the instrumental solo to the lyrical fresco, would take up the whole of this speech. In any case there is available for reference the very thorough bibliographical study by his learned pupil, Canon Robert Delestre. But, to continue along our path in the company of the Master, we can halt at the Preludes and Fugues, which, composed as early as 1912, represent an astonishing enrichment of organ technique.

Speaking of these works, Marcel Dupré, the innovator, fully master of his bold strokes of composition, said “All I did was to follow Bach’s example . . . There’s no place for academicism in fugue, whatever one may think.”

In subsequent works, the “Suite Bretonne,” the “Symphonie-Passion,” the “Chemin de la Croix,” he went on to develop more fully this rich style of composition, to cite a few examples, for his extremely orderly mind yet found room for bold experiment. A short time ago, reading through scores by young composers, he showed me the interest which lay in examining new techniques by listening for their structure, their quest for new sounds.

Very early, the main lines of his life were set. With what mastery he mapped out his route! He was never to deviate from the chosen path: he embellished it continually.

The former pupil of Diemer, of Guilmant, and of Widor was to become Professor of Organ at the Conservatoire and Director of the illustrious institution.

What were his merits as a teacher? We have no need to enumerate them. On the 7th May last, at St. Sulpice, after hearing his “De Profundis,” his former pupils paid him homage and their famous names show that the continuity of his work and mission are assured.

A few weeks ago, he went back to Rouen and visited again the house of his parents, “le Vert Buisson,” and played the organ at St Ouen.

The world’s most glittering successes had never altered his affection for those he always revered, his family. He always spoke of them with moving tenderness.

He was so discreet and secret in his inmost thoughts that, in order to know him well, one had to be favoured with his affection. How his face shone when he spoke of his family. He expressed himself then with a contained warmth which was stronger than loud bursts of sound, for this master of sound was also master of his heart. When he gave his affection, how comforting was his welcome! Whether it was in his joyful home at Saint-Valery-en-Caux or the great organ room at Meudon, his arms were wide open to welcome those who in their turn followed the same path. They knew, of course, that a superior being was receiving them. 

The rarest gifts were magnified by an uncompromising conscience, and a strict application to work, so as to achieve a constant elevation of talent and thought. Those of us who have sat next to him on the organ bench at St. Sulpice know what is genius.

His finest praise was spoken by his former pupil, now famous, Olivier Messiaen, who, speaking of his master, Marcel Dupré, called him “the modern Liszt.”

Liszt, the noblest figure in the history of music, a generous spirit and a discoverer of new sounds—he combined a stupendous virtuosity with compositions which broke new ground in their development of the resources of music. Let us keep in our minds this brief and complete tribute.

When his admirers mourn him all over the world, you, Madame, who have been his attentive and so much loved partner in life, will receive the greatest comfort from his hands. You know that his name will remain what he made it—that of one of the greatest of men.

40 BOULEVARD ANATOLE-FRANCE

92—MEUDON

027-14-45

May 26, 1972

Dear friend,

Many thanks for your good letter from Hamburg. I will be happy to see you during your short visit in Paris.

Will you come to Meudon on Monday May 29, about 3 p. m. You have got a train from Montparnasse station at 2:51 p.m.

Nearly a year has elapsed since my beloved husband left us. This month of May with all its last-memories of our life is so sad!

With affectionate wishes,

J. Marcel Dupré

Special thanks to Linda Ryan Thomas; to Trinity Episcopal Church, Longview, Texas, Bill Bane, organist-choirmaster; and to Kilgore College, Kilgore, Texas, Dr. William Holda, president, and Jeanne Johnson, chair of music and dance, for allowing access to Alexander Boggs Ryan’s complete personal library, and for granting permission to reprint these letters and memorabilia.

Lorenz Maycher is organist-choirmaster at First Presbyterian Church, Kilgore, Texas, and founding director of the East Texas Pipe Organ Festival. He is a frequent contributor to The Diapason, which has published his interviews with Thomas Richner, William Teague, Nora Williams, Albert Russell, and Robert Town, as well as his series of articles “From the Clarence Dickinson Collection.” Maycher is also director of the Vermont Organ Academy, a website promoting articles and recordings devoted to the Aeolian-Skinner legacy.

Karl Watson was a pupil of Alexander McCurdy at the Curtis Institute and, during 1970, of Marcel Dupré in Meudon. He has served both Protestant and Catholic churches on the East Coast. 

Reflections ten years later

Joyce Johnson Robinson is editorial director of The Diapason. 

Paris Week, July 2-9, 2001

Kay McAfee is professor of organ and music history at Henderson State University in Arkadelphia, Arkansas, where she also serves as organist for First United Methodist Church.

The ninth biennial seminar attracted 80 participants who assembled in Paris anticipating the first week of playing time on the great instruments, lessons and classes with master teachers, participants' recitals, and the hospitality of our gracious hosts. At the Paris Conservatory, director Christina Harmon introduced co-director Marie-Louise Langlais, who received a warm round of applause. Participants introduced themselves and greeted old friends from previous seminars. Two student scholarship winners were announced: Josh Melson of Cherry Hill, New Jersey and a student at Centenary College in Shreveport, Louisiana; and Victor Johnson, a student at the University of Texas at Arlington and organist/composer-in-residence at Hamilton Park Baptist Church in Richardson, Texas.

The seminar always includes discourses about the instruments, improvisations by resident organists, and playing time for participants at the Schola Cantorum, Notre Dame de Paris, Les Invalides, Saint-Roch, La Madeleine, Sainte-Clotilde, La Trinité, Notre-Dame-des-Champs, Saint-Severin, Saint-Etienne-du-Mont, and Saint-Sulpice. The itinerary this year added visits to Notre Dame d'Auteuil, Saint-Augustin, Saint-Vincent-de-Paul, Saint-Eustace, and Dupré's home at Meudon.

Group and private lessons took place throughout the week with instructors Yanka Hekimova (Saint Eustace), Naji Hakim (La Trinité), Françoise Levechin (Saint-Roch), Lynne Davis (American Cathedral), François Espinasse (Saint Severin), Susan Landale (Les Inva-lides), and Marie-Louise Langlais (Sainte-Clotilde).

Participants who had contributed to the student scholarship fund were treated to a lovely wine and cheese reception at the apartment of Daniel and Odile Roth. Roth led everyone to his basement studio which houses a two-manual organ and a grand piano. The walls are filled with posters, memorabilia, and photographs, including those of Schweitzer, Widor, Bach, Franck, and Conrad Bernier. Letters and musical quotes from Kodály, Widor, Schmitt, Messiaen, Guilmant, and Deutilleux overlook the study. Later in the week, Roth, titular organist at Saint-Sulpice, would give the history of the instrument, improvise, and spend nearly six hours assisting participants to play.

Paris Conservatory

At the Conservatory, Jean-Charles Robin, 19-year-old student of Mme. Langlais, improvised on the tune "National Hymn" (God of Our Fathers), given an interesting twist by David Erwin who submitted it. Mme. Langlais solicited literature and performers for the participants' recital at St-Roch.

Saint-Augustin

Saint-Augustin, within short walking distance of the Paris Conservatory, was Gigout's church. He was titulaire there from 1863 until his death in 1925. Assistant organist Didier Matry played Gigout, a Cochereau improvisation, and his own improvisation.

Saint-Roch

Sylvie Mallet, David Erwin, and Mme. Langlais assisted for the recital at St-Roch. Advertised in the Paris weekly publication for arts events, the program attracted a great number of listeners. Eighteen participants played the marvelous four-manual, 53-stop, 1770 Clicquot instrument which was restored and enlarged by Cavaillé-Coll from 1840 to 1862. It boasts reeds which are among the most powerful in Paris. Literature included works by de Grigny, du Mage, François and Louis Couperin, Clérambault, Hakim, Vierne, Honegger, Langlais, Salomé, Widor, Sejan, and Lanquetuit. Performers included Mary Milligan (Denver, Colorado), Yolanda Yang (Irvine, California), Jay MacCubbin (Providence, Rhode Island), Helen Van Abbema Rodgers (Fairhope, Alabama), Shinook Lee (New York City), Josh Melson, Thomas Hanna (West Palm Beach, Florida), Jack W. Jones (Palm Beach, Florida), Esther Wideman (Philadelphia, Pennsylvania), Kay McAfee (Arkadelphia, Arkansas), Carl Schwartz (Silver Spring, Maryland), Eunice Ford (Huntsville, Alabama), David Erwin (Alexandria, Virginia), John Walko (San Francisco, California), Barbara Reid (Dallas, Texas), Lois Holdridge (Fullerton, California), Angela Kraft Cross (San Francisco), and Randy Runyon (Oxford, Ohio).

La Trinité

Naji Hakim, titular organist at La Trinité, was protégé and designated successor of Messiaen. New seminar participants as well as returning veterans enjoy the devotion of Parisian organists to the heritage of their instruments and the tribute paid their predecessors. None is more enthusiastic than Hakim. Guilmant's heritage at La Trinité includes the story of his horror at returning from America to find his instrument dismantled and destroyed. Cavaillé-Coll rebuilt the organ and today it exists as the instrument best suited for Messiaen's music.

Hakim played the outer movements of Messiaen's Messe de la Pentecôte. He spoke of Messiaen's improvisation and how he freely moved within many styles: Classical, Mendelssohn, Widor. The Livre du Saint Sacrement exploits Messiaen's improvisatory gifts. Hakim played his newest composition, The Last Judgement, which incorporates plainsong melodies: "Dies Irae," "In Paradisum," Alleluia of the Epiphany, and Gloria from Missa de Angelis. He improvised on "The Star Spangled Banner" since this group was there on July 4.

Notre-Dames-des-Champs

Marie-Bernadette Dufourcet, titular organist at Notre-Dame-des-Champs, treated participants to the sound of the 90% original Cavaillé-Coll design and disposition. It contains one of the most beautiful harmonic flutes and rich montres.

Saint-Vincent-de-Paul

At Saint-Vincent-de-Paul, where Léon Boëllmann served as titular organist, Marie-Louise Langlais introduced Pierre Cambourian, the current titulaire, who played the 1849 Cavaillé-Coll choir organ. Its action and stops have remained untouched and it enjoys exquisite balance of foundations, mutations, and reeds. Of three manuals with a short Récit, it has a beautiful harmonic flute, vox humana, and 16' basson on the Récit. The church was designed in the Neo-Classical style, after La Madeleine. The four-manual Cavaillé-Coll Grand Orgue, originally comparable to the La Madeleine organ, is now of Neo-Classical design, refurbished by Gonzalez in 1970, and nothing plays on the fourth manual. It is of 66 stops, although 91 were originally planned. Participants enjoyed generous playing time.

Saint-Louis des Invalides

In the evening the entire group gathered at Église Saint Louis des Invalides to hear informative discussion and playing by Susan Landale, who is one of three organists for the church. The Thierry family built the first instrument, a four-manual organ, from 1679 to 1687. The Clicquot family (who were also in the champagne business) looked after it. Louis XIV's architect, Jules-Hardouin Mansart, designed the case with its gilded sculptures. Some pipework remains from Thierry: the cromorne, fonds, bourdon and doublette in the Grand Orgue, and Positiv nazard and 2'. In 1843 a full-scale restoration was ordered. Three firms submitted proposals: Cavaillé-Coll, Ducroquet, and the winner of the contract, Gadault. Gadault built a third-rate Romantic organ, completely destroying the Classical organ of Thierry. There are, however, very fine reeds in the Swell. The Gadault organ was dedicated in 1853.

In 1942, Bernard Gavoty, a pupil of Dupré and a respected and feared music critic, was appointed organist at Les Invalides. He moved within elegant Parisian circles, and was the right person to collect money for a rebuild of the organ. In 1955, it was decided to engage the Beuchet-Debierre firm, which was instructed to build a Neo-Classical instrument. The console was electrified and the compass of manuals and pedals extended. The chamades were added in 1979.

According to Landale, the principal miscalculation of the Neo-Classical movement was the idea that if there were mixtures one could play Bach. It didn't matter if the mixtures didn't fit well with the foundations. The other problem was cramming a large amount of pipes into a small space (the original case) in order to get more ranks. As a result, the scaling went smaller and the sound was thinner. But to consider the music of Tournemire, Duruflé, Messaien, and Langlais from 1930 to 1970 is to hear music which was influenced by the Neo-Classical sound.

The last overhaul of cleaning and tuning the organ was in 1980. There are plans for another overhaul in 2003 which will include rewiring the organ. The organ contains 61 stops, including cornets on both the Great and Swell.

Ms. Landale discussed Tournemire, his work and his legacy, and played two of the improvisations: Ave Maris Stella and Te Deum. These improvisations had been recorded at Sainte-Clotilde to wax discs in 1913. Duruflé transcribed the improvisations in the 1950s. Besides the two Tournemire improvisations, Ms. Landale played a piece by Petr Eben, who followed Tournemire's lead in the prodigious use of Gregorian chant.

Sainte-Clotilde

The entire group assembled at Sainte-Clotilde to hear Marie-Louise Langlais discuss the organ, to hear participants play, and to enjoy a demonstration and improvisation by Jacques Taddei, titular organist of Sainte-Clotilde and director of the Paris Conservatory. Mme. Langlais met the group outside to talk about the history of the church.

The parish was wealthy and Cavaillé-Coll was engaged to build the organ. The organ is 46 stops, small by Cavaillé-Coll standards. Franck served as organist here from 1859-1890. Pierne served from 1890-1898, Tournemire from 1898-1939, and Langlais from 1945- 1987. Mme. Langlais mentioned that she tried to get Langlais to retire in the mid-1980s, as he really was not able to climb the steps to the loft. He declared that he was determined to "stay one year longer than Tournemire," and he did.

Tournemire was a devotee of Baroque music, both German and Spanish. He tried to transform the Sainte-Clotilde organ to accommodate these styles. In 1933, he enlarged the Positiv by adding mutations and he also directed enlargement of the Swell. This changed the balance of the organ. More changes were made by Langlais in 1962. With Jacques Taddei 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 organ builder in charge is Bernard Dargassies, who also has worked at Saint-Augustin, La Madeleine, and Saint-Étienne-du-Mont. Restoration of the original wind pressure, addition of a second motor for the blower, and restoration of the stop action is in process. The organ, and especially the 8' foundation ensemble, sounds more powerful, while the reeds have remained unchanged. At this point, the organ is as close to the original Cavaillé-Coll since the restoration by Tournemire in 1933.

David Erwin played the Franck E Major Choral using exclusively the Franck stops including signature stops of great beauty: vox humana, Swell trompette and hautbois combined, and the solo harmonic flute. Mme. Langlais played part of the Seven Words of Christ by Tournemire, and Angela Kraft Cross played "La Nativité" from the Poèmes Évangéliques by Langlais.

Mme. Langlais introduced Jacques Taddei, who demonstrated the solo and ensemble stops of the organ: 1. Positiv and Grand Orgue flutes in a scherzo; 2. The Récit gamba and celestes with the beautiful Positiv clarinet (really a cromorne); 3. Grand Orgue trumpet with fonds of the Récit; 4. Positiv cromorne with cornet of the Grand Orgue; 5. Ensemble of fonds of the Grand Orgue and Positiv and fonds of the Swell including oboe; 6. Flutes of the Grand Orgue and Récit which have been restored as harmonic flutes; 7. Restored larigot and 1', added by Tournemire in 1913, are now more integrated into the organ. Taddei then improvised on two themes submitted by Mme. Langlais: a Breton folk song and the hymn "If thou but suffer God to guide thee."

For the July 8 Sunday Mass at Sainte-Clotilde, six seminar participants were invited by Mme. Langlais to present musical offerings during the service. Literature included: Improvisation on Ave Maris Stella (Tournemire), Louise Bass (Albuquerque, New Mexico); Grand Jeu (Corrette), John Walko; Choral Dorien (Alain), Jack Jones; "Mon âme cherche un fin paisable" (from Nine Pieces, Langlais), John Walko; "Communion" (from Suite Médiévale, Langlais), Kay McAfee; Variations on a theme of Janequin (Alain), Jill Hunt (Evanston, Illinois); "Final" (from Symphonie I, Vierne), Angela Kraft Cross.

Saint-Sulpice

At Saint-Sulpice, a massive Roman style church with rounded interior arches, tourists are dazzled by the huge paintings in its side-chapels, two of them by Delacroix. The imposing case of the Grand Orgue, designed by the 18th-century architect of the church, Monsieur Chalgrin, matches the enormity and weight of the interior. Organists at Saint-Sulpice have included Guillaume Nivers, Clérambault, Lefébure-Wély, Widor, Dupré, Grunenwald, and presently, Daniel Roth. Clicquot built the first instrument in 1781. That organ was of five manuals: Half-Récit, Half-Echo, Récit, Bombarde, Grand Orgue, and Positiv. In 1835, a proposed restoration by Callinet was begun but was abandoned; 60,000 francs and twenty years later, Cavaillé-Coll undertook the project. At the time there were three organs in the church, the Grand Orgue, a Choir organ, and a smaller instrument owned by the Dauphin. Cavaillé-Coll restored all of them, and the choir organ survives today. The grand orgue is of 102 stops, including the original Clicquot pipework which Cavaillé-Coll carefully preserved. At the completion of the work in 1862, the dedication featured César Franck, Camille Saint-Saëns, Alexandre Guilmant, and Gaylord Schmidt (the titulaire at the time). In 1863 Lefébure-Wély was appointed organist, and when he died six years later, Cavaillé-Coll recommended Widor as titulaire. Because of Widor's youth (26) and the observation that "he plays like a German," many letters of protest were written. However, Widor was named "provisional" organist and remained for 63 years. Further maintenance of the organ occurred in 1903 (Mutin, Cavaillé-Coll's successor) and in 1991 (Renaud).

Neither Widor nor his successor Dupré (1933-1971) allowed any major changes in the pipework at Saint-Sulpice through the Orgelbewegung and neo-classic movements of the 20th century. Widor supervised cleaning of the organ three times and in the 1920s an electric blower was added. Dupré had the organ cleaned and repaired in the 1950s. The unbroken tenure of over 100 years by these two organist-composers effected the presence of a largely unaltered example of Cavaillé-Coll's tonal design.

Notre Dame d'Auteuil

At Notre Dame d'Auteuil in a quiet, upscale neighborhood close to the southwest boundary of Paris, Frédéric Blanc, who was one of the last students of Marie-Madeleine Duruflé, introduced Mme. Duruflé's sister, Elaine Chevalier. She is a member of the parish and head of the new Duruflé Foundation. Blanc, a gifted musician, has been titular organist here for 21⁄2 years. The organ is very special because it is an unaltered 1885 Cavaillé-Coll. Widor and Dallier played the inauguration. Mutin restored the organ in 1912 and again in 1937-38 under the direction of Vierne and with approval from Duruflé and Dupré. An electrified console was added.

The organ was virtually ignored through the Neo-Classical movement and managed to remain untouched, primarily because the organist who preceded Blanc was there for fifty years, and the instrument remained "closed." It is of three manuals and 53 stops with both Récit and Positiv under expression.

Blanc then conducted a session concerning the tradition of improvisation practiced by French organists who study the art from the time they are young children. Improvisation is always a mix of composition and freedom. Control is necessary, with effective use of stop combinations: flutes and fonds, solo stops with celestes, and with a mixture of counterpoint and chordal harmonies. Blanc: "Start simply. Control the harmony according to theoretical principles. A chosen theme should have both melodic and rhythmic interest. In preluding for the service or providing meditation for communion, there should be a plan for the shape of the form." He talked about how ideas come quickly for the good improviser and that those ideas have to be molded quickly. The time spent practicing improvisation will result in the tools for being free with those ideas that come quickly.

Saint-Étienne-du-Mont

Across from the Pantheon and near the beautiful Luxembourg Gardens is located Saint-Étienne-du-Mont, the church where Maurice and Marie-Madeleine Duruflé served for over 50 years. There was an organ here first in 1633 to which François Clicquot contributed. Today only the magnificent case survives along with some of the original Clicquot pipes. Randy Runyon, French professor at Miami of Ohio University, introduced and translated for Vincent Warnier, the talented young winner of the Grand Prix International d'Orgue de Chartres in 1992, who assumed the post of titulaire here upon the death of Mme. Duruflé.

Warnier related the history of the organ, which evolved very differently than other Parisian instruments. In the 19th century, when the romantic and symphonic sound was valued, Cavaillé-Coll was asked to restore the organ, the work for which was completed in 1863. He added many Romantic voices--fonds, harmonic flute, an expressive Récit with voix celeste--and a Barker machine.

In 1930, at age 28, Duruflé was named titlular organist. He arrived to find the organ virtually unplayable, and with Vierne and Dupré, they envisioned a restoration. But WWII intervened. Duruflé had to play a choir organ of only 12 stops for 25 years. In 1955 the organ was finally restored. Duruflé had been Vierne's assistant at Notre-Dame and he very much wanted to recreate that organ here. The 48 ranks became 90, and the new electrified console was placed to the right of the instrument.

Because the original case was small, the pipes were spread out. Above the west entrance doors, pipes are visible with some placed on their sides. The Echo manual is completely to the side of the original case, and gives a sense of mystery to the tonal palette. This is not an historical restoration, but the dynamic range is enormous, with impressionistic colors and an impressive tutti. In 1989, Mme. Duruflé enlisted the Dargassies firm to restore the organ. At that time the console was further modernized, mixtures were revoiced, and fonds and an en chamade were added. Today the organ is an eclectic instrument.

La Madeleine

At La Madeleine, François Henri-Houbart, titular organist for the past 22 years, related the history of the colorful musicians and composers who have served this most civic and visible of Parisian churches. During Lefébure-Wély's era in the early 19th century, the church was considered "an annex of the Opéra Comique," because the music heard was often of the salon and theatrical varieties. When Houbart arrived, the organ was in a poor state of repair. Houbart oversaw a restoration of the windchests, the restoration of the wind pressure as prescribed by Cavaillé-Coll, and the modification of the newer stops so that they integrate well within the original pipework.

The organ (1845-46) is Cavaillé-Coll's second large instrument after Saint-Dénis and Notre-Dame-de-Lorette. This instrument, originally of 48 stops, represents the transition to the Romantic-symphonic ethos of Cavaillé-Coll. The fonds, reeds, and plein jeu provide a Classic foundation (after Dom Bédos). There is no cromorne or cornet. The Récit is the same as Sainte-Clotilde but without the voix celeste. The organ has a large quantity of flutes, especially harmonic flutes, representing Cavaillé-Coll's transition to the orchestral organ. Today the organ has 58 stops, with 46 from the original instrument.

The organ underwent a restoration in 1927 for which Widor played the dedicatory recital. The program included his Suite Latine, which was written for the occasion. The console was electrified in 1971. The heritage of organists include Fessy, Lefébure-Wély, Saint-Saëns, Dubois, Fauré, Dallier, and Demes-sieux. Fauré was first the choir organist and he assisted Saint-Saëns. When Fauré became titulaire, Nadia Bou-langer was his assistant. Clara Schumann, Franz Liszt, and Anton Rubenstein frequented the organ loft.

The choir organ was also built by Cavaillé-Coll. At first it had only one keyboard, but he added another to encompass 20 stops. It was restored in 1997. The bassoon, oboe, and clarion are original stops. Houbart's fine improvisation included demonstration of the Cavaillé-Coll stops, then of the newer stops, then all together. Houbart related that once every three years he plays an all-Lefébure-Wély Mass, which he would do that evening at 6 pm, Sunday at 11 am, and Sunday evening at 6 pm. For participants who wanted to attend, about ten people at a time could visit the organ loft. He mentioned that Lefébure-Wély  wrote a number of excellent anthems and choral music for the Mass, and that Saint-Saëns, who was a detractor, actually admired his improvisations.

Schola Cantorum

At the Schola Cantorum, Mme. Langlais told of the school and its Mutin organ (Mutin took over the firm after Cavaillé-Coll's death). Founded in 1896 by Charles Bordes, Alexandre Guilmant, and Vincent d'Indy, it was established for the study of the restoration of Gregorian chant after Solesmes and to re-introduce the Grand Orgue. The Schola was not as competitive as the Conservatory. A temple of "non-official" music, teachers included Guilmant, Vierne, the Duruflés, Grunenwald, Langlais, Satie, Martin˚u, and Turina. Students included Milhaud, Roussel, and Debussy.

One of Mme. Langlais's students, Verouchka Nikitine, played a fine recital which included Vierne, "Allegro et Cantilene" (Symphonie 3); Widor, "Allegro" (Symphonie 6); Langlais, "Communion" (Suite Médiévale); and Jean-Louis Florentz (b. 1947), two movements from Laudes. Participants enjoyed a light buffet supper prepared by Mme. Langlais and her daughter Caroline.

Participants chose among several churches to attend Sunday morning. The afternoon event was a recital at Notre-Dame-de-Paris which consisted of music of Mendelssohn and Bach. The church was full and pleasantly respectful as the recital proceeded. The organist experienced difficulty with registration changes, and it was somewhat disappointing to hear an all-German recital on this, the largest instrument in Paris. Playing time was allowed after the cathedral closed its doors to the public.

Saint-Étienne, Caen, Chartres

Participants boarded a bus for the 200 kilometer drive through the lovely countryside to Normandy and the city of Caen. Saint-Étienne houses a large Cavaillé-Coll instrument which is a-mong the three finest and largely unaltered organs of the builder. The others are at Saint-Sulpice and at Saint-Ouen in Rouen. Phillip Klais, president of the Klais firm of Bonn, Germany, introduced tonal director Heinz-Gunter Habbig. Habbig studied with the last voicer of the Cavaillé-Coll tradition, and he has made extensive studies of the organs at Saint-Ouen, Saint-Omer, Saint-Sulpice, and Saint-Sernin. Habek has directed several Cavaillé-Coll restorations, and his presentation of this instrument and discussion of the Cavaillé-Coll ethos was filled with reverence for the work of such a master craftsman.

The Abbey Church of Caen was a famous center of art education in the Middle Ages, but there is no record of an organ until the 15th century. In May of 1562, Protestants ransacked the church and ruined the organ. 200 years later, in 1737, the monks engaged a builder in Ouen and that organ's oak case, from 1741, its towers crowned with flower pots, remains today. On February 10, 1745, the organ was completed, a remarkable 18th-century specimen with five manuals and 61 stops. The first three manuals had a compass of 53 notes, a first in France, and the pedal was complete with a 16' and cornet.

The organ was endangered during the French revolution but suffered only neglect. In 1859 there was a restoration, and by 1877 more repairs were needed, and Cavaillé-Coll was asked to give an opinion. It was decided, with approval of Guilmant, that the old case and old façade pipes would be retained, with an addition of 8 stops. New wind chests and blower, new action, and new pipework were built in one year; the manual compass was increased to 56 notes. On March 3, 1885, Guilmant played the dedication recital. Repairs were needed in 1899 and the organ was given excellent care through to 1944. In January of 1975, the Secretary of Culture placed the instrument on the National Register of Historic Monuments. In 1998-99 there was another restoration.

Lynne Davis, a native of Michigan who has lived in France for 30 years, has for five years been Professor of the National Regional Conservatory at Caen. She studied with Marie-Claire Alain, Jean Langlais, and the Duruflés. Her studio of 20-25 students is privileged to practice and take lessons at Saint-Étienne and also to play the choir organ which is a Baroque instrument. After speaking of her immense affection for this great instrument, Ms. Davis played "Nef" and "Rosace" from Byzantine Sketches by Mulet, Cantabile by Franck, and Toccata by Vierne. Participants were then allowed generous playing time.

Part of the group continued on to Chartres to hear assistant organist Laurent Bois play and then all had the opportunity to play the great 1971 Danion-Gonzalez organ of 69 stops.

Participants returned to Paris and prepared to depart for Alsace for the second week of the French Organ Music Seminar.

(A report on the Alsace week will appear in a later issue of The Diapason.)

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 ■

In all his studies, D’Arcy Trinkwon has been fascinated by the person behind the musician. An early interest in the Dupré tradition inevitably led to Jeanne Demessieux, and his particular interest in her began when he first heard her recordings in the early 1980s. Over the years he has explored, researched and studied in depth all he could of her, fascinated and inspired by her legend. Inspired by her Salle Pleyel programs, in 1994 he presented eight concerts in as many weeks: “The King of Instruments” was a celebration of the great masterpieces and culminated in a complete performance of her famous Six Etudes—then the first organist to do so in recent time. He has since become particularly associated with them and her other works as a result of his numerous performances of them. He is vice-president of Les Amis de Jeanne Demessieux. D’Arcy welcomes any correspondance on the subject of Jeanne Demessieux and, time permitting, hopes to write a serious and comprehensive biography of her.

The year 2008 marks the fortieth anniversary of the death of Jeanne Demessieux, and it may therefore be interesting to reflect on various aspects of her extraordinary career. Where did this legend begin and what has been her legacy? And what of the enigmatic lady herself—of whom so many have loved to talk, yet of whom so few have ever really known much. This article deliberately reflects more on the person and the artist than would a conventional academic study, and inevitably space here cannot discuss every angle of her career. A more purely biographical article appears by this writer in Organists’ Review, November 2008.
Jeanne Demessieux died on November 11, 1968: born in Montpellier on February 13, 1921, she was only 47. One might even say that she “disappeared,” for the dazzling star of this organist had already dimmed somewhat: once the talk of organists worldwide, a legend in her own younger years, the changes of musical fashions—as well as several unexpected twists of fate—had rendered her almost something of a bygone curiosity. This is reflected in the fact that some who were studying elsewhere in Paris during the ’60s never even crossed the city to hear her play at the Madeleine.
At the time, the circumstances surrounding her passing were only discreetly alluded to and, as with so many musicians of exceptional achievement, much of what she had achieved was all too quickly forgotten, overlooked in favor of newer artists. A large crowd attended her Paris funeral in the Madeleine, and on that day even the organ—of which she had been titulaire since 1962, and that she so loved—mourned. Instead of flooding the church with music as it had so many times under her remarkable hands, it stood silently in respect of her passing, a vast black drape hanging from its gallery to the floor. Only some days before she died, she had told friends “I can hear the flutes of the Madeleine” as she lay convalescing in her bed after nearly two months in hospital. Little did she know she would never play the instrument again.
And how did this woman, once the “Queen of Organists,” become almost overlooked in her later years, bypassed in favor of a younger generation? The spectacular successes and triumphs of her youth have been unparalleled by any other organist, yet the burning apogee of these years seemed almost to burn part of her out as the blaze faded, leaving her inwardly exhausted and bereft. An artist of the great virtuoso tradition, her style became less popular as the so-called Organ Reform movement continued to sweep through and gain ever-greater momentum like a rushing wind. And there was her health. Throughout her life, Jeanne Demessieux battled with serious health problems, undergoing numerous operations beginning in her early 20s. She fought cancer silently in an age when any public knowledge of such an illness was a social taboo that would leave the sufferer ostracized and an outcast.
Few ever got to see the woman behind the public persona; being both very reserved, but also having an uncommon force of character and purpose, she didn’t let many people see the “person” behind, except the few she truly trusted. It must also be surmised that the famous “rupture” with Dupré probably seriously affected her faith, and it was a “scandal” she was aware would never leave her.
In many ways, so many elements of her life seemed always to have two such opposing poles: on one hand triumph and fame, on the other, obscurity; being “the chosen one” of her master Dupré, but then being bypassed and cast out; being very much a “grande dame” when at the organ or mixing professionally, yet being a woman of an (at times) uncomfortably reserved nature. The gentleness and sensitivity she showed those whom she trusted contrasted with her strong opinions and individuality. On one hand she was admired as a great artist—on the other she was viewed with suspicion because her brilliance was such that some simply couldn’t see past that alone, and undoubtedly many seethed with jealousy. Even Demessieux herself was aware of the two poles in her personality—gentleness, sensitivity and creation contrasting with “violence” (although her exact word, it referred more to force and strength of character than any darker force). This duality in her nature reflected the two very different natures of her adored parents: her father—cultivated, artistic, sensitive and affectionate; her mother—highly strung, a forceful, driven nature disguised behind an emotive, gentle façade.
By quite some years, she was the first woman to achieve international fame as a virtuoso organist, and her gender undoubtedly had a serious impact on her career. Not only was she entering what was at the time an almost exclusively male domain, it undoubtedly meant that she had, in fact, to be even better than her male colleagues to be accepted as their peer.
She had immense good fortune; she was taken under the wing of the great Dupré when she was still only fourteen. In her, he saw at last the messenger he had been looking for: someone of unlimited and precocious talent, the prophet who would bear the torch of the glorious French organ school forward from him, as he himself had done from his own master Widor. In addition to his other responsibilities and work, he devoted the next eleven years to her education, tirelessly and meticulously preparing her for the role he knew she could fulfill. Proclaiming her as his true successor, he elevated her prowess to such a level that she simply had no realistic competition; even before her famed 1946 debut, he proclaimed to Léonce de Saint-Martin: “You know that I do not say anything glibly, and I say Jeanne Demessieux is the greatest organist of all.” He proclaimed that posterity would rank her alongside Clara Schumann.
Cocooned in this privileged world of Dupré’s home in Meudon, she was loved and nurtured by him and his family as their own. Yet only a year after her triumphant debut concerts, he abruptly severed all contact with her, cutting her off and out of his life without any explanation. Anyone wishing to understand the possible motives and reasons is strongly encouraged to refer to the excellent article by Lynn Cavanaugh, which offers the best considerations of this issue. [See “The Rise and Fall of a Famous Collaboration: Marcel Dupré and Jeanne Demessieux” by Lynn Cavanaugh, in The Diapason, July 2005.] Although she was devastated and suffered enormously from this, some around her felt it was actually a good thing; they were all too aware that under the gently acquiescent girl was a woman who would be unable to live in another’s shadow. Despite Dupré’s unlimited generosity to her (he did, after all, do everything possible to plan her future triumph and success), they knew she could never be a puppet—however well-intentioned the master.
Again, the reader is refered to the above-mentioned article, which discusses with great clarity the unfortunate situation and “fall-out” of this “rupture.” Undoubtedly, there were some who reveled in the scandal of the “fallen angel” and used the situation both for their own opportunity, and also as an advancement in the “turf war” that undoubtedly existed in the Parisian organ world. Despite the fame she enjoyed outside Paris (and to a lesser degree in France), she was certainly given the cold shoulder by a certain faction of its organists and concert promoters. As a result, even today many in France are surprised to know of the celebrity she had outside their country because of her having been largely ostracized from the French organ world. Her music remains largely unknown there.

The legend begins
Jeanne Demessieux made her debut in 1946 at age 25. Dupré himself had arranged a series of six recitals at the Salle Pleyel, Paris, in which he could launch the career of this, his most exceptional pupil. He planned every detail for their maximum impact, even calling them “Six Historic Recitals.” Even the venue, the restoration of its organ, the setting of the stage were a specific part of their big scheme to launch her career. An audience of 1,725—considerably more than was customary for a debut recital (on any instrument) in Paris at the time—witnessed the level of accomplishment she displayed. It was a level that no other organist had before displayed, and the reaction of the audiences at these concerts was simply sensational. Her debut was compared to those of Horowitz, Menuhin, and Gieseking; Dupré himself said “You have shown us this evening that we are in the presence of a phenomenon equal to the youth of Bach or Mozart . . .”
Of Paris’s finest organists present—including Langlais, Litaize, Grünenwald and Falcinelli—Duruflé more humorously (but no less seriously) declared “Next to Jeanne Demessieux, the rest of us play the pedals like elephants!” The press gave free reign to the emotions felt by all, and noted that not even Liszt himself could have stunned them more—and the musical sensitivity she displayed was compared to that of Vierne. At the conclusions of these recitals she was often almost mobbed by the throngs who came to hear her as they clamored for autographs and a closer glimpse of her; their enthusiasm was like fire.
In short, these recitals were a triumph the like of which had never been seen before and has not since. They heralded what was to be an unparalleled few years.

Her career
That first evening (February 26, 1946), when that young woman walked out onto the stage at the Salle Pleyel, dressed simply and elegantly in a pale blue dress, had an impact on the organ world, and it was never the same again.
As a result of the word spreading—as well as due to the very careful particular public relations that the Duprés had planned—the young Jeanne quickly received a flood of invitations to give recitals throughout Europe. On many of these occasions she was the first woman ever to play in those cathedrals, churches and concert halls. Within a few years she had played in virtually every major European city, having given 200 recitals in only four years. As was the case with outstanding performers in an age before the numerous distractions of society today, her concerts usually attracted and drew capacity audiences—both fascinated by her as a woman, but also stunned by what they heard.
In the autumn of 1947 she gave a second, equally triumphant series of six recitals at the Salle Pleyel.
Her London debut was on February 26, 1947 at Westminster Cathedral (where she would return many times). Attended by the whole of the Willis firm, Willis himself had to attend to a cipher immediately before the recital began! She made five visits between 1946 and 1948 alone, including a concerto at the Proms with Sir Malcolm Sargent, Jeanne loving the great Royal Albert Hall instrument. However, it is worth noting that the English critics were usually fairly hostile and, although not widely known, there was a definite intrigue involved here. In 1947 the London Organ Music Society, then headed by George Thalben-Ball, made a request that she pre-sent herself and undergo something of an audition for them; understandably insulted, she flatly refused such a ludicrous request—but they, with a pompous attitude, never got over the fact that she did. Equally—unlike the Americans—they seemed to have a serious issue with being so outshone (in so many ways) by a woman! At the time, English organ critics were usually organists from this Society, and the mean-spirited reviews they gave were in stark contrast to those given by the Americans whose generosity of spirit and enthusiasm knew no limits. During her years of training and preparation, Dupré had warned her she would undoubtedly encounter elements of jealousy. However, the audiences themselves and non-organist critics in the UK also shared this enthusiasm. Although not widely known, in 1953 Demessieux played, by invitation of the young Queen Elizabeth II herself, at her coronation in Westminster Abbey.
At the time of the Pleyel recitals, Dupré had been both planning and insistent that Jeanne must go and make her debut in America; he saw her potential as an artist to achieve considerable fame and success. She, however, flatly refused to agree to go there unless assured of the best possible terms and conditions; her strong-willed nature was beginning already to assert its independence. It has been written and suggested that Dupré was trying to manipulate her into something uncomfortable—to create a Hollywood-style glamor star—but surely he only saw the very real chances for her to make a great life and in turn give herself the freedom such success would allow to devote herself to music. Dupré left for another of his own tours there the following year. Upon his return he never spoke to or had any dealings with her again.
Jeanne’s first tour in North America did not, in fact, take place until 1953: but it was simply triumphant, the audiences and critics alike stunned by the experience. [See “The American Recital Tours of Jeanne Demessieux,” by Laura Ellis, The Diapason, October 1995.] Perhaps only Virgil Fox displayed a similar degree of virtuosity, although his style was, of course, far more flamboyant and his repertoire far more popular. She returned again in 1955 and 1958, and on each occasion packed audiences from coast to coast rewarded her with feverish ovations.
In the early days of her career, her virtually non-stop schedule of concerts included nearly every major city of Europe and North America—all the more remarkable since travel was in those days more reliant on slow trains and sea. Touring was not something she enjoyed, finding it exhausting and, at times, nothing but a punishment. She made only three tours of North America, apparently refusing any further invitations because of a wish to remain near her aging and ever more frail parents.
Unlike many were beginning to do, Jeanne refused to travel by plane unless absolutely necessary; as result of losing a great friend in a crash in her youth, Jeanne was terrified of flying. Undoubtedly, as the years progressed and younger organists were increasingly leaping on planes to play everywhere, this must have curtailed her activities and left her somewhat behind. Disliking traveling generally, unlike such as Dupré, she never ventured further afield to such places as Australia either.
The apogee of her career was undoubtedly during the late 1940s to the mid-1950s. Although she continued giving recitals widely after that, a new generation was emerging—figureheads of the so-called Organ Reform movement—whose fresh ideas and new approach to the organ were captivating followers, leaving the grander virtuosos of previous generations somewhat bypassed. But certainly no other organist—before or since—could ever claim such an auspicious beginning to a career as Jeanne Demessieux.

Repertoire
What did Jeanne Demessieux’s repertoire include? As may be expected, her choice of music was very much based on the traditions of the French Romantic school; during her years with Dupré she studied most of Bach’s works (including all the great preludes, toccatas, fantasias, fugues, sonatas, Orgelbüchlein), as well as many of the works that were the cornerstone of Dupré’s own repertoire—including the great works of Liszt, Franck, Mendelssohn. She also studied numerous works of Dupré himself—both sets of preludes and fugues, both symphonies, Evocation, Le Chemin de la Croix, the Variations, Suite Bretonne and Sept Pièces—all of which she performed in Meudon before 1946. And there was the “riddle” of the Etudes he wrote for her, the transcendental sketches he later regrouped. (It may be pertinent to remark that this was not done, as has been incorrectly noted by some, after the “rupture” between them: it was openly discussed between them prior to her Salle Pleyel debut.)
Jeanne’s concert programs are fascinating to study. However—as with all performers who play from memory—the inevitable restrictions of memorized concert repertoire meant there were, as a result, numerous repetitions of the same works. This aside, all her programs show a decided concern for a variety and balance of periods, texture, styles and emotional impact. Despite a certain classical austerity and obvious concern for music of serious quality, purity and refinement—much in the way a concert pianist of the same era would have chosen that instrument’s classics—there was also very much a regard for aural and structural color.
Nearly every program included at least one major work of Bach, often supplemented by an intimate and expressive chorale prelude or two. Although she played all six of Bach’s trio sonatas in a recital at Dupré’s home on March 19, 1942, only very occasionally did she perform one of these in her subsequent programs. By contrast, some of Handel’s concertos (I, II and X) featured regularly in her programs, complete with spectacular cadenzas of her own—and it may be worth noting here that Dupré’s edition of these was, in reality, almost entirely her work, done during her years of study with him. A variety of other Baroque composers featured occasionally in her concerts—some of these obviously being taken from Dupré’s series Anthologie des Maïtres Classiques. She seemed to like opening recitals with Purcell’s Trumpet Tune, something she first played as an encore in one of her Salle Pleyel programs, when she noted how it “refreshed the audience.” From the Hamburg recording we can today hear on CD, she opted for a bright, sparkling approach to this music, this quite in contrast to the heavy, ponderous and pompous style often given to the same work by many English and American players of her time. Mozart’s Fantasia in F minor, K. 608 was obviously another favorite work of hers, and she performed it frequently. Generally, however, she only included the odd Baroque piece as a bit of “fluff” in her early years; in the ’60s she did, however, include more works—such as Buxtehude, sometimes a suite of Clérambault—although she obviously felt her attentions better directed (and requested) towards more specifically “concert” music. Of particular note (for it being unusual) was her including a fugue of Gibbons in a recital at Westminster Abbey on May 3, 1956—also because it appears that was her only performance of anything English. She did not appear to play any American works.
Despite performing all the Mendelssohn sonatas and preludes and fugues in her youth, these were only rarely included subsequently, whereas the three great works of Liszt featured throughout her whole career and were of obvious great importance to her. Occasionally she chose one or two lighter works of Schumann (a fugue, perhaps a canon) or, less often, maybe a Brahms prelude, usually placed as a moment of contrast after or before a big piece. An unusual work in her repertoire (from the ’50s onwards) was her own transcription of Liszt’s Funérailles—one of the first times being at Westminster Abbey on May 3, 1956, and subsequently she played it quite often. She never wrote it out, instead playing her transcription from memory of the piano score. Similarly, many of her actual compositions were never written out until they were exactly as she wanted them in her head.
The music of César Franck was of particular importance to her, and after Bach it appeared more regularly than anything else. It is interesting to note that on the organ in her apartment, an instrument bought on the success of her American concerts, she hung the famous print of César Franck serenely playing the organ of Sainte-Clothilde.
Other than Franck, the only French Romantic composer she performed with any regularity was Widor, the Allegro from the Sixth Symphony being presented often. Only rarely did she perform a complete symphony—occasionally maybe the Gothique—but the variations of both this and the Fifth appeared often, the latter regularly in her later programs. Interestingly, Vierne (whose music would have suited her so well) only occasionally appeared: for example, sometimes the Scherzo of Symphony No. 2 appeared, much in the role of a refresher between bigger works.
Of the twentieth century, only three names ever appeared with regularity: Messiaen, Berveiller and Demessieux herself. Other than her early years—during which they appeared only occasionally—she hardly ever performed any works of her other contemporaries.
She frequently performed one or two of her own pieces. Apart from her very early concerts, she did not play the Six Etudes as a complete set, later often taking just one or two (Tierces, Notes Repetées, Accordes Alternatés and Octaves being those she chose most often). She did sometimes include one of her choral preludes (Rorate Caeli—her own favorite of the set—and Attende Domine appearing most often), and the austere and granite-like Dogme from the Sept Méditations seems a work she had particular affection for, it appearing many times; occasionally she played one or two other movements from this same set. The Triptyque (with its mysterious and poignant Adagio written just a day or so after the “rupture” with Dupré) appeared on programs throughout her career. In the 1960s, the then recently written Prélude et Fugue and the Répons pour le temps de Pâques quite often featured, as had her Te Deum in the years following its own composition.
Jeanne’s association with Jean Berveiller was of significance. Both apparently loved jazz and particularly Duke Ellington—and the influence of this “lighter” music is reflected in Berveiller’s colorful style. His music suited Jeanne’s obvious wish to bring freshness to her programs, and she played many of his works—Epitaphe, the Suite, his transcription of Franck’s Redemption, and Cadence, written for her 1953 U.S. debut (although one wonders why she didn’t include any of her own Etudes there, for they are far more spectacular). And, of course, there was that famous Mouvement—organists sought to unearth the score for so many years. However, not all these works were, as has been variously claimed, dedicated to her.
Messiaen was of particular significance to Jeanne; he greatly admired her, and she was one of his first and most powerful advocates. She regularly performed his pieces in recitals. Movements of both L’Ascension and La Nativité appeared frequently, as did the whole suites occasionally. For example, she gave the first complete performance of the former at London’s Royal Festival Hall on May 15, 1957, and she played the complete La Nativité at the English Bach Festival on July 1, 1964 in Christ Church, Oxford. She also played Le Banquet Céleste, Apparition de l’Eglise Eternelle, and Combat de la Mort et de la Vie regularly. It is also interesting to note that many players of younger generations who later became associated with this music first heard it in performances (either broadcast or live) by Jeanne Demessieux. It is also a measure of the respect Messiaen held for her that he frequently invited her to be an examiner for his analysis class at the Conservatoire.
And Dupré? She performed so much of his music during her years of study, and some pieces also featured in her earliest public recitals outside France. She performed the Prelude and Fugue in B as part of London debut, and the Symphonie-Passion for a recital there on March 13, 1947 for the Organ Music Society. (This recital has often, erroneously due to Felix Aprahamian, been cited as her London debut.) She also performed the Suite in London.
But did she ever perform Dupré after the “rupture”? Very seldom and from the rarity with which she did, one may believe it was only when specifically asked. She never played any in America, but it is poignant to note that she included the Symphonie-Passion in what was to be one of her final recitals—one in Chester Cathedral, as part of the Chester Festival in July 1967.
Whatever her feelings of betrayal and disappointment, her respect for Dupré as an artist, as much as for the values he upheld and represented, never diminished; neither was she ever known to make any remark against him. A testament to this was the article she contributed to Études (Paris, April 1950) entitled “L’art de Marcel Dupré.”

Improvisation
Improvisation featured in all of her recitals, and her extraordinary skill in all forms of this art was widely known. Dupré once claimed that he could train any technically competent organist to improvise a five-part fugue within six months; so, given the extraordinary gifts of this pupil, it is not surprising that he trained her in this skill to be as brilliant (more, some said) as he was himself. At her first Salle Pleyel recital, she improvised a four-movement symphony. She also did the same in her March 1947 London recital, whose brilliance prompted George Thalben-Ball to say—with a reserve of generosity typical of the British organists—that it was “trick” improvisation because “no one can think that fast”! The French prowess at improvising specific and disciplined musical structures was a world apart from the meandering service-style improvisation of the English, and, again, one notes the distinctive “green eye” looking at her.
Of particular note was a recital she gave at the Conservatoire in Liège on March 1, 1957, the entire program of which was improvised! During it she improvised in numerous forms and structures—from choral variations, a trio sonata, prelude and fugue, paraphrase, and various treatments of chorale (polyphonic, contrapuntal, canon, fugue, ornamented).

Concertos
Quite unusually for an organist of her times, Jeanne was invited to perform concertos fairly often. There were the Proms, the performances with orchestras in France, Belgium and elsewhere—although never, surprisingly, America. She wrote her own “concerto,” Poème, in the very early ’50s, giving its premiere in 1952, as well as that of Langlais’ Concerto. In December 1964 she gave the Belgian premiere of Poulenc’s, also performing Jongen’s Symphonie Concertante with the Orchestre de Liège. Less successful was her recording of two of Handel’s concertos with the Suisse Romande orchestra; she found working with its conductor, the aged Ernest Ansermet, very difficult and was infuriated by his despotic wish to control the proceedings—including her playing, and even trying to suppress her cadenzas. Again, her strong will and individuality were far too strong to be so treated by a despotic conductor.

Recordings
Nearly all the recordings Jeanne made were for Decca, in those days probably the most significant recording company. Her first were several 78s, featuring works by Bach, Widor, Franck, Mendelssohn, and Purcell’s Trumpet Tune.
Then she made numerous LPs—several were made at Victoria Hall in Geneva in the early 1950s; in addition to the Handel concertos mentioned above, these included works of Bach, Liszt, Widor and Franck. A recital of Bach and Franck on the organ of St. Mark’s, North Audley Street (an instrument later removed to Holy Trinity, Brompton, where it remains) was also issued. A project a few years later for her to record a series in Notre-Dame (Paris) was never realized, much to her great regret. She did, however, record several mixed selections at the Madeleine a few years before her famous recording of Franck made there, for which she won the Grand Prix du Disque in 1960. Two years later she was appointed Organiste-titulaire of this great church and its organ, an honor she considered so special she admitted she “cried with joy.” She had served prior to this appointment as organist in the church of Saint-Esprit during her teenage years.
In the early 1960s, Messiaen agreed she should record his (then) complete works. Although greatly passionate about this project, her refusal to sign the contract easily and continued questioning and bargaining of its terms meant that by the time of her unexpected death, the actual contract remained still unsigned. On the strength of her extant recordings, one can only imagine how we have missed out from these never being recorded. Her last recording was made at Liverpool Metropolitan Cathedral as part of the celebrations of the then new cathedral and its organ.
It was rumored that during the ’50s she recorded the Six Etudes for Decca, although this may have been just a legend. Certainly this writer has failed to unearth any concrete facts about these.
Many of Demessieux’s recordings have now been reissued by Festivo and are available on CD. They testify to an artist of exceptional gifts and clearly disprove the claim of those who tried to brand (even dismiss) her merely as an empty virtuoso.

Performance style
Jeanne Demessieux was a spectacular and transcendental virtuoso. Although the influence and tradition handed down to her by Dupré is apparent, her playing obviously had a personality decidedly her own, one markedly different from his; despite certain similar elements, there are few other similarities. From recordings we can hear her remarkable strength of authority, characterized by the same rigorous heroism and rhythmic power that Dupré demonstrated—but her playing demonstrated very little of Dupré’s rigidity, instead displaying a far more emotional expressive range, even at times being remarkably sensual.
In recitals, critics repeatedly spoke of her commanding mastery, taste, responsibility and respect for the composers and works she played (with the exceptions of those less generous mentioned earlier). Again, from her recordings, it is also very clear that she listened intensely to her own playing and to the inner workings of what she played. She was also very aware of and sensitive to acoustics, which she employed in a very personal way.
Demessieux once remarked “a performer has her rights,” implying that a performer must create an interpretation. Unlike many of the “organ reform” brigade, she, like Dupré and other virtuosos, did not attach great importance to slavishly following the score indications and registrations (as some have insisted we all should) in either her own or others’ music without question or a certain (tasteful) liberty. From her journals we can note frequent questioning of things such as metronome markings and performance indications. Her ambition was clearly to make music “live,” free from rigidity and the dogmatic approach certain other performers favored.
Another point is worth mentioning with regards to certain British and American reviews in which it was claimed she was simply a dazzling virtuoso and nothing more. For one, they missed that her playing—decidedly French—was strikingly different from the often overtly sentimental styles of performance common in both countries at the time. Few players had the exceptional sensitivity and subtlety she was capable of in her Bach chorales, her Franck. Maybe her excessive brilliance actually irritated some who were made all the more aware of their own limitations.
One thing is certain: no one, especially not Demessieux herself, would claim any were “definitive”—for such a claim would only reveal more arrogance and ego than true artistry. But these recordings are a wonderful testament to a great artist; we younger generations have truly missed out, not being able to hear her live.

The performer
The commanding presence of Jeanne Demessieux was widely remarked upon, and she was known for an aristocratic “hauteur” combined with a feminine, graceful demeanor. As with Dupré (and most of his pupils), once seated at the organ she was virtually motionless. Sitting bolt upright with regal carriage, she played with remarkable physical dignity and relaxation, and had no interest in the kind of performing histrionics and display that were customary in America—something often remarked upon by the press. This seemed to cause an even greater impact on the audiences, because the authority and strength of her performances belied her small and fragile physique. Dupré himself had repeatedly spoken of her power and strength as a player, even using the terms “masculine” and “virile.”
In the early days of her career, applause in churches was not customary and recitals were quite a sober affair; she presented herself accordingly in reserved, but elegant, attire. However, in concert halls or more relaxed venues Jeanne brought a sense of occasion and glamor not previously known in recitals and not adopted as the norm for many years afterwards. She was known for beautiful, stylish long evening gowns, often including a train that she would drape gracefully over the back of the organ bench. Perversely, this often obscured the pedals and her legendary pedal prowess from the view of the audience! The silver shoes—with their high Louis XV heels—in which she always played have become part of her legend. However, it would be quite wrong to believe there was anything remotely exhibitionist or “flashy” about her presentation—this was quite contrary to her reserved nature; it was for her just presentation and style.
Other than occasionally during church services, she never used music and played everything entirely by memory, never traveling with any scores. According to Marie-Madeleine Duruflé-Chevalier, who was a loyal and trusted friend, she had little (if any) difficulty in recalling any of the great works of the repertoire from memory.

Teacher
In her years of study, Dupré had repeatedly spoken of his wish that she would succeed him as Professor of Organ at the Paris Conservatoire, also expressing his wish that she succeed him as Organiste-titulaire at Saint-Sulpice (“only Jeanne Demessieux can occupy the organ loft of the great Widor” he declared). Indeed, on a few occasions about the time of her first Salle Pleyel recitals, she took his class while he was absent giving concerts. However, after the “rupture” these were just shattered dreams. The conservatoire post was in the end filled by another Dupré disciple, Rolande Falcinelli.
In addition to her concerts, Jeanne did, however, teach both organ and piano throughout her career. In the early days, she was teaching some 25 hours each week, on top of which were 14–15 hours for Saint-Esprit. After all this came the most important call on her time—her own practice; she often worked eight hours a day at the organ, as well as composing. And in addition to all these demands, was the greatest of all—her hectic concert schedule!
In Paris she taught privately in her apartment, also doing some teaching in Nancy. She was appointed professor of organ at the Royal Conservatoire in Liège in 1952, a role she took with great responsibility, traveling every week on the train from Paris for two or three days. She was as exacting with her pupils as she was with herself. However, she managed this imperceptibly, and their testimonies speak always of her kindness, warmth and encouragement as a teacher—and her unlimited generosity in encouraging them to achieve their maximum. She was also enthusiastic, encouraging and aware that a pupil may wish and need to explore other styles and traditions of performance than her own—illustrated by her recommending one student to go to study with Anton Heiller, who was then setting Europe alight with his brilliant interpretations, in a style very different from her own. Among her outstanding pupils were noted virtuosos Pierre Labric and Louis Thiry.
She was also invited to give various masterclasses and interpretation courses—among them Dublin in 1954 and Haarlem in 1955 and 1956, where she also become chair of the jury for the competitions. Following Dupré’s retirement, she was several times invited to be on the jury for the organ class at the Paris Conservatoire.

Organ building
What is less known is that Jeanne Demessieux had a passionate interest in organ building: she was fascinated by traditions and future ideas for organ building. Again, it was Dupré who had awoken this, and again—as with everything she did—she cultivated her own views and knowledge. She admired many diverse types of instrument—the great Cavaillé-Colls of course (particularly those in Rouen, Saint-Sulpice, the Madeleine and Notre-Dame), but also many older instruments, such as those in Weingarten and various great Dutch instruments.
In the 1960s, she began a major project for the French government to undertake a classification and study of the great instruments throughout France. Her private papers include a large file of her notes written in longhand analyzing many aspects of each of the numerous instruments considered in detail.
Perhaps least favorite for her were some of the large, heavy and ponderous American instruments. One note in her diary remarked a certain instrument was flat, dull and heavy in sound—“unfortunately, just what Dupré would love!”

The person
Jeanne was a person of complex personality—although not in the “temperamental” way. She could have great charm, yet be very aloof and display noted reserve with people. While not displaying any offensive ego or arrogance, she was well aware of her capabilities and stature: how could she not have been?
Her “duality” has been touched on earlier. A woman of highly intellectual capacity, with a remarkable ability to learn and retain, she was not interested in the superficial—thus she found many of the inevitable post-concert receptions (these being especially part of the American scene in the days she played there) quite dreadful; she loathed them, and even felt she’d earned her money just by enduring “ordeals,” as she called them! She seemed to have confused many—some saw her as very shy, others as reserved, some as charming, some as distant and impersonal. Yet under these various exteriors was a woman who was perhaps exactly all of these things by turn. She was also an observer of others—she noted in her diary how, on one of the boat trips going to play in America, she asked to dine alone at her own table—so that she could watch all the other passengers from a distance, but not have to mix with them or exchange superficial conversation. She also remarked elsewhere that she did not like the “snobbism” of certain artistic and cultural circles, some of whom were there merely because it was “the thing to do.”
Few—realistically only a mere handful—ever knew the real person behind the woman. Of those who did, all have spoken without limit of generosity of her kindness, gentleness, distinction, warmth and charm; to these people she was never affected by her celebrity, but remained a person of modesty and humility. She retained a sincere loyalty and friendship with those she trusted. Possibly the “rupture” with Dupré scarred her here too, for she never allowed many to ever become close to her again.
When relaxed, she had a sparkling and engaging personality, and to some she was a breath of fresh air from the usual, more drab male colleagues whom promoters had to entertain. Her correspondence to friends reflects a charming and effusive spirit; the radiant and effusive tone here was of great warmth, energy and spirit.
What was not publicly known in her life was that she suffered precarious health throughout much of her life, battling cancer in particular. It must be remembered that, until only recent generations, the discussion of illness—particularly serious illness—was an absolute social taboo; knowledge of any serious illness could often leave a person socially outcast, even professionally ruined. In addition to cancer, she had repeated bouts of “nervous exhaustion”—undoubtedly exacerbated by constantly fighting cancer plus her own fragility in order to continue working. Her drive, however, is reflected in that on several occasions she was up and traveling merely days after one of the many operations she underwent.
It was typical of her reserve that she lived in only modest accommodation—her apartment being only two rooms in a suburb of Paris. Yet she died owning multiple properties.

The last years
The auspicious successes and good fortune of her youth did not follow her through to middle age. Although the center of everyone’s attention in her youth, this changed. Despite the unswerving loyalty and love of her family, Dupré—the man she loved as her mentor and second “father”—turned against her (as did many in the wake of this), and the wider organ world began to look at new and emerging younger artists, rather overlooking her in the process. Understandably, for someone as sensitive as she undoubtedly was, this must have been immensely difficult to endure.
In the mid 1960s, she began to look back on her life and reflect, sometimes quite plaintively, and began to speak to those she trusted of her exhaustion and serious inner fatigue. Some who met her in these years spoke of her displaying quite visible inward sadness, despite the smiling and charming exterior. In addition to the enormous drain her illness must have had on her, her soul seems to have become disillusioned not with music itself, but with it as a profession and with all it had demanded of her. Despite her luck, she felt trying to establish her career had been a constant battle, many having viewed her either with suspicion or envy (often both). The dreams of her youth were shattered and soured, the sadness of her broken alliance with Dupré had distressed her immeasurably. Instead of looking back on a happy childhood, she began to look back with resentment on a childhood of solitary study, on a life of great personal disappointment, of disillusioned sadness at betrayed trusts. As a performer, the outstanding fame of her youth had waned.
One wonders how Dupré must have felt when she died, something he is never known to have divulged. Once as dear to him as his if she was his own daughter, to whom he had promised so much (and against whom he had turned against violently), she died—as did his own daughter, Marguerite—from cancer far too young. One wonders what he felt, and notes how pointless all those wasted years of non-communication surely were.

The legacy
The legend of Jeanne Demessieux has been of far greater importance than many have considered, or been willing to admit. Maybe some even felt such discussion would have distracted from their own achievements? To many, the star of this brilliant artist has always been something quite untouchable, and many organists (this writer among them) have practiced themselves into a frenzy in the hope of attaining just a little of her level of brilliance. Many openly freely admit how much they have been inspired by her image, and nearly every outstanding female organist since has, inevitably, at some stage been compared to her. Some people were, of course, less generous (as is their right) or simply didn’t appreciate her style, and undoubtedly there were also those who may even have been well served by the waning of her star and her passing because it gave them more space to grow. Yet she still remains one of the most talked of organists of all, a name virtually every organist knows.
Today there is renewed interest in her both as performer and composer and younger generations are discovering a legend anew. Her music is being discovered and performed more than ever before. Her influence is a great deal more than just the eternal talk of “the silver shoes.”

Further reading
Jeanne Demessieux, “Un Vie de Luttes et de Gloire” by Christiane Trieu-Colleney, Les Presses Universelles 1977
Jeanne Demessieux: Témoignages de ses Elèves et Amis, published by Les Amis de Jeanne Demessieux, 1901
“Six Etudes, Op. 5, of Jeanne Demessieux,” by Marjorie Ness, The Diapason, August 1987, pp. 9–11.
“The American Recital Tours of Jeanne Demessieux,” by Laura Ellis, The Diapason, October 1995, pp. 14–18.
“The Rise and Fall of a Famous Collaboration: Marcel Dupré and Jeanne Demessieux” by Lynn Cavanagh, The Diapason, July 2005, pp. 18–21.
The recordings of Jeanne Demessieux now reissued by Festivo contain excellent writing by one of her devoted friends, Pierre Labric.

Websites:
Les Amis de Jeanne Demessieux: http://cat.uregina.ca/demessieux/

Timothy Huth holds a master’s degree and doctor of musical arts in organ performance from the University of Michigan. He is currently organist at First Presbyterian Church in Dearborn, Michigan, and a nationally certified massage therapist and cranial sacral therapist.

Led by Marilyn Mason and Gale Kramer, the University of Michigan Historic Tour LVI began on the Mediterranean in sunny Barcelona, then traversed southern France to Bordeaux on the Atlantic coast via Toulouse and Carcassonne. From there we followed Conques, Poîtiers, Angers, Orléans, Chartres, the Chapelle Royale at Versailles, and finally Paris itself. Historic churches and cathedrals with organs in the Catalan, French classic, and French symphonic traditions graced our way, and frequently our host organists would improvise, lecture, and assist tour members at the console. Several visits to museums and historical sites as well as sampling the local cuisines along the way complemented much music making.

Barcelona
Barcelona, the capital of Catalonia, is a vibrant cosmopolitan port city with ancient roots, with fine museums and architecture spanning centuries. Catalan organ building flowered here in the 16th century, taking a different path from that in Castile and central Spain, where organ building reached its peak in the 17th century. Linked by trade and geography to continental Europe, Catalonian builders were influenced by the Flemish, North Germans, and French. The organs usually have several reeds, although in Catalonia reeds never became as numerous or prominent as in the rest of Spain. Trompetas and Baixons (Clarins) are powerful and bright, and the organs are rich in mutations, cornets, and mixtures (Pie, Simbalet). Often there are colorful solo reeds on secondary divisions. Catalan cases are flat, narrow, and usually tucked into a small space. Even on smaller instruments there is usually a horizontal Trompeta or two, which affords economy of wind and space. Frequently there is a smaller Cadireta or Chair Organ suspended behind the organist (sometimes behind and under the organ bench), with a small chorus, mutations, and reed (Regalia, Cromorne, sometimes Trompetas).
As in baroque France, the music determined the registration—for example: Nazardo combinations using Nazardos and Quincenas; Lleno; Flautado; Campana (bell: unisons and Cymbalet). Rossignol, tympani, and bird stops are common. Often Iberian organ registrations were incorporated into builders’ contracts. Stops were divided for maximum flexibility of solo/accompaniment registration. The Principal (Cara 8′) would usually be of wood. Unique to Catalonian and Majorcan organ building, manuals divide between b2–c3 (in Castilian organs, c3–c#3).

Santa Maria del Mar
On the first day, we walked through Barcelona’s medieval city to Santa Maria del Mar (St. Mary of the Sea), where we met Neal Cowley, parish organist and a historian of Spanish organs. This vast basilica, built by Catalonian merchants and traders in the 13th century, has a history of important organs, beginning with Bernat Pons in 1393, and later instruments of 1464 and 1691. Lost in the Spanish Civil War were the 1797 ‘large organ’ by Jean-Pierre and Dominique Cavaillé (Aristide’s father and grandfather built several large organs in Barcelona) and the ‘small organ’ (1495, 1672, for accompanying chant). The current organ, the ‘small organ’, is a 17th-century instrument by an unknown builder from the convent in Vic. There are two manuals, a large 14-stop Orgue Major (II), and a 6-stop Cadireta (I). Using casework and pipes found in an antique shop and rescuing bellows and keyboards from an old farmhouse near Vic, Gerhard Grenzing rebuilt this instrument following the tradition of the period and by studying the few remaining period instruments. Particularly notable is the powerful warmth of the Cara, the blossom of the flutes, and impressive ensemble, able to fill the large Gothic space. The parish plans for a new ‘large organ’ to replace the lost Cavaillé.

Recitals—Barcelona Cathedral
At the Barcelona Cathedral (completed in 1298), eleven of our tour prepared for a late afternoon concert of Spanish music on the 1538 Pere Flamech organ (IV/58), with its casework by Antoni Carbonel towering over the San Ivo door near the apse. One of four major organs by Flamech, it has been significantly modified over the years. The ‘Batalla’ organ (IV) of Trompeta Magna 16′, Trompeta Real and Clarins Clars 8′, Baixons and Clarins Alts 4′, and Violetes 2′ (all horizontal reeds) resonated through this vast space scented with candles and incense and alive with thousands of pilgrims and visitors.
Academia a l’Orgue Barroc
Later that week, tour members performed at the ‘Academia a l’Orgue Barroc’ at La Poble de Cérvoles, where our hosts were Maria Nacy, the Academia founder, with three of her enthusiastic young students. The Academia’s organ hangs on the mid-front right wall of the parish church. It is a stunning restoration by Wilfried Praet of a 2-manual/8′ Pedal 1752 Anton Cases organ, with a 3-stop Cadireta Interior added by Joseph Cases/Soler in 1784. Another very fine Praet reconstruction was at St. Jaume, Ulldemolins. This 2-manual instrument with full choruses, bright reeds, and lovely Cara featured painted case doors of the Annunciation by an anonymous female artist. An El Greco painting behind the altar and Catalan icons completed the space. The organ, brought to the church via an enthusiastic priest and funded by parish and town, is a source of regional pride. Back in Barcelona, Gerhard Grenzing welcomed us to his workshop, where we saw several works in progress. Grenzing’s repertoire of over 170 organs includes significant European restorations and new instruments (e.g., Brussels Cathedral IV/60).

Cathedral de Santa Maria, Castello d’ Empúries
On our last day in Catalonia we saw the great Gothic Cathedral de Santa Maria, Castello d’Empúries, originally with an 11th-century instrument by Pere Granyera. The 51-stop, 4-manual gallery instrument (Scherer circa 1600/Grenzing 2004) combines Spanish and classical French characteristics with an expanded 16′ Pedal and stops of Spanish and continental nomenclature (e.g., Alemanya IV on the Orgue Major, Oboe, but also Trompeta Batalla and Magna). This is one of the great organs of this region of Spain and France.
Following a visit to Salvador Dalî’s seaside home and his fantastical museum at Figueras, the rolling hills and meadows of France welcomed us to the Abbey of Sainte-Marie, Fontfroide. Following Cistercian tradition, this vast Romanesque abbey church never had an organ; the Offices and Mass were all chanted a cappella.

Basilica of SS. Nazarius and Celsus, Carcassonne
Many great (now former) monasteries and churches are along ancient pilgrim and trade routes. In the walled city of Carcassonne, the Basilica of SS. Nazarius and Celsus has a Romanesque nave around which, in 1269, a Gothic cathedral was built. Fourteenth-century stained glass illumines the 1522 organ case. The instrument combines a 1679 organ by Jean de Joyeuse (III/24), with renovations and an 8-stop Récit added by Jean-Pierre Cavaillé in 1775 (III/32). Fomentelli integrated the two instruments in 1985 (IV/40). Here is an example of the late French classic style, with cornets on every manual, Grand Cornet, and powerful bombardes. Unique to the Carcassonne organ are two Positif divisions (Positif Intérieur and Positif de dos), in addition to the Récit and 28-note Pédale. The upraised faces of tourists and pilgrims toward the loft attested to this captivating instrument as Marilyn Mason gave an impromptu lesson on de Grigny.
A visit to L’église Sainte Marie de Cintegabelle brought us to Moucherel’s splendid 1741 instrument, restored in 1989 by Boisseau & Cattiaux, with its sparkling Plein Jeu, voluptuous Grands Jeux, and stunning wide and shallow case topped by golden angel musicians.

Toulouse, Languedoc, Dordogne
In Toulouse, organist Jean-Claude Guidarini led us to Saint-Pierre des Chartreux, where high over the former Dominican choir area in the large apse presides the 1683 Delauney (IV/51) instrument, restored by Joseph Cavaillé-JB Micot in 1783, and Grenzing 1983. Several hours later we walked to Saint-Sernin and the towering Cavaillé-Coll organ of 1889, with pipework from Daublaine-Callinet (1845). Following Guidarini’s brilliant improvisation, our group enjoyed hours of playing in the empty basilica.
At Albi in Languedoc, Mary Prat-Molinier met us high in the loft at the red brick fortress of the Cathédrale Sainte-Cécile, built at the end of the Albigensian crusade (13th century). Built in 1735 by Christophe Moucherel as a 43-stop organ, Lépine added a Bombarde manual in 1747, and Formentelli restored it in the mid 1970s, incorporating many remaining pipes. Each division has a Cornet séparé, and the Voix humaine is new, after that of Cintegabelle. Next door we enjoyed the Toulouse-Lautrec museum in the former bishop’s palace.
At Sarlat-la-Canéda in the Dordogne valley, near a lively public market in this medieval city, Henry Jullien, a former pupil of Susan Landale, improvised and shared console time on a unique 37-stop Jean-François Lépine organ of 1750, restored by Cattiaux in 2005, in the Cathedral of Saint-Sacerdos. From a family of builders, Lépine (who built for Saint-Roch in Paris) was a pupil of Dom Bedos, who inspected this instrument. The organ is 80% original, with drawings and clues in the gallery floorboard greatly aiding in the reconstruction of the action, chest layout, and winding system.

Bordeaux
The next day at Sainte-Croix Abbey in Bordeaux, we heard Daniel Tappe (a graduate of Oberlin, now at the Musik Hochschule at Hanover) in a recital of Clérambault, Froberger, Bach, and Kerll on Dom Bedos de Celles’ masterpiece. The 18th-century verdigris case with golden filigree and 16′ Montre glistened as the room filled with the sound of brilliant, powerful trompettes and cornets, full flutes, and the gravitas of the 32′ Bourdon and Grand Plein-jeu XIII of the Grand Orgue. One of the hallmarks of every great organ that we saw were the foundation stops, which, given the materials and acoustics of the churches, provided a richness and warmth supporting the tonal edifice. In the restoration, Pascal Quoirin of Carpentras followed Bedos’ 1766–78 L’Art du Facteur d’Orgues and used early inventories of the instrument as well as extant pipes, including the battered façade. With a full complement of couplers, reeds on all manuals, manual bombardes, and the ability to create terraced dynamics, the organ is capable of a more diverse repertoire and is clearly along the road toward the new symphonic style.

Poitiers
Following the Loire valley, we arrived at the Cathédrale Saint-Pierre in Poitiers. A lack of money prevented Aristide Cavaillé-Coll’s planned rebuild of François-Henri Clicquot and son Claude-François’ masterpiece, a 16′ ‘Grand Orgue’ of four manuals, 44 stops, and 28-note Pedale, with its original temperament including four perfect thirds. Organist Jean-Baptiste Robin pointed out that while of classical disposition, the organ carries the power and presence of later organs and is capable of a more diverse repertoire. Later in the week at St. Godard in Rouen, titular organist Nicholas Pien conversely spoke of their 1885 Cavaillé-Coll (III/38) and its ability to perform Vierne as well as French Baroque pieces. Widor, who dedicated the St. Godard organ, called it ‘Raphael’ to distinguish it from the Cavaillé-Coll in St. Ouen, which he called ‘Michelangelo’. With its piquant Swell Gambe and powerful intense reeds, it has an immediate presence in this smaller Gothic structure with wooden floor and ceiling. A Cavaillé-Coll choir organ (II/16) graces the apse.

Loire Valley
In the Loire Valley, we toured Fontevrault Abbey, a former monastic community of men and women under an abbess (later a prison where the author Jean Genet spent time), and the burial place of Eleanor of Aquitaine. That afternoon, following the Loire River, we came to the Cathédrale Saint-Maurice in Anjou province. The carved neo-Gothic staircase to the gallery matched the spired towers of the 1879 Cavaillé-Coll, containing earlier pipework, including a 1742 Positif. Restoration after World War II included electrification and additional stops.

Chapelle Royale at Versailles
Our gateway to Paris was the gilt and marble Chapelle Royale at Versailles, with its IV/37 instrument in the musicians’ gallery over the high altar. François Couperin premiered the Etienne Enocq/Robert Clicquot organ in 1711, and Gonzalez rebuilt it in 1936 (Widor wanted to keep the earlier 1873 Cavaillé-Coll rebuild). Recently, Boisseau et Cattiaux scrupulously restored the 1710 organ, keeping the 1736 (Louis-Alexandre Clicquot) and 1762 (Francois-Henri Clicquot) additions. Its console has features of the Poitiers organ, and it is also a 16′ instrument.
Paris, La Madeleine
We arrived in Paris to play the 1847 Cavaillé-Coll organ at the church of La Madeleine (IV/46). Here is Cavaillé-Coll’s first Voix Céleste and first reverse console (now electrified). Planned-for 8′ and 4′ Trompettes-en-Chamade have been added. Organiste-Titulaire François-Henri Houbart improvised à la Dupré, starting from the wide breadth of the Flûte Harmonique and colorful solo stops through waves of mixtures and reeds to full organ and powerful choruses anchored by the Bombarde. It was a thrill to play the Tournemire Te Deum in this grand space on this venerable instrument.

Saint-Gervais
Our last few days in Paris saw visits to still more instruments. The final Sunday of the tour found some of our group in the loft with Jean-Paul Leguay at Notre-Dame Cathedral, some at Saint-Eustache, and others at Mass at Saint-Sulpice with the sublime improvisations and service playing of Daniel Roth. That afternoon at Saint-Gervais where eight generations of Couperins worked, Elise Frist, an assistant organist, ably demonstrated the organ (V/41, 1628 Thierry, 1768 FH Clicquot, 1843 LP Dallery, 1974 Gonzalez, 2003 Muhlrisen). Indeed, the Couperins’ music fitted the organ well, with its balanced ensembles and clarity of voicing evoking that of Lépine, Delauney or Clicquot. Much original pipework remains, and the console has the oldest keyboards in Paris. The original pedalboard is mounted on the rear case, which is also embellished with etchings and photos of the many organists who have played and worked there.

Sainte-Marguerite and
Notre-Dame de Chartres
Sunday evening found us again in recital, this time featuring music of Widor, Tournemire, Dupré, and improvisations at the church of Sainte-Marguerite, built in 1624, and where the young Dauphin Louis XVII is buried. The organ is an 1878 installation by Stoltz Frères of Alsace.
A side trip to Notre-Dame de Chartres found us in the gallery with headphones on to be able to properly hear the instrument (IV/68, Relevage Jean-Marc Cicchero 1996). Without them we were surrounded by sounds of the Pédalier.

L’Église Saint-Antoine des Quinze Vingts
At l’Église Saint-Antoine des Quinze Vingts we found a unique 1894, 48-stop Cavaillé-Coll originally built for the Baron de l’Espée, who wished to play Wagner in his personal hotel on the Champs-Élysées. A purely symphonic instrument, it was moved to the church and enlarged in 1907.

Notre-Dame d’Auteuil and
Sainte-Clothilde
The Grand-Orgue of Notre-Dame d’Auteuil (Cavaillé-Coll 1884, Gloton-Debierre 1937–38) is a shining example of Cavaillé-Coll’s mature work. Dedicated by Widor in 1884, its sound evoked that of Saint-Sulpice. It is one of the most glorious instruments this organist has ever experienced. The 1938 renovation, under the auspices of a committee with Tournemire, Vierne, Duruflé, and Dupré, preserved the entire organ (III/52), enlarged and enclosed the Positif, and added pedal and manual mixtures. Josef Franck, the brother of César, was organist here, and in 1884 Widor and Dellier played the dedication. Its full flutes, generous fonds, and bombardes of great gravitas are well balanced and perfectly blended in the room. This was a favorite organ of the Duruflés and much of Paris; Marie-Madeleine Duruflé attended Mass here in her later years. Titular organist Frédéric Blanc told us that the original instrument intended for the church was loaned to the French government, whereupon Cavaillé-Coll enlarged it and installed it in the Trocadéro, which opened in 1878. At Sainte-Clothilde, assistant organist Olivier Penin improvised on the 1859 Cavaillé-Coll, renovated by Dargassies in 2004. It was a thrill to also play the instrument of Langlais, Pierné, Franck and Tournemire.

La Trinité
The La Trinité organ was built by Cavaillé-Coll in 1869 and reconstructed after the Paris Commune in 1871. Merklin rebuilt it in 1901, and in 1934 Pleyel-Cavaillé added combination action, batteries of reeds and mutations, and mixtures. It was again rebuilt in 1965 by Beuchet-Debierre, with further alterations and additions in 1984 and 1992. Messiaen referred to the remaining older pipework as the most admirable sounds on the instrument and considered the instrument a masterpiece.

Saint-Étienne-du-Mont and
Saint-Roch
Our final afternoon found us at Saint-Étienne-du-Mont, with organist titulaire Vincent Warnier improvising in the style of Duruflé, after which we spent several hours at the console. In 1930 when Maurice Duruflé was appointed here, the ailing 1873 Cavaillé-Coll (a rebuild of a 17th-century organ with original case) was renovated in consultation with Tournemire and Dupré. Work resumed after World War II (Marilyn Mason recalled her lessons on the front choir organ shortly after the war). Now electrified and enlarged, the main organ has been transformed and still possesses many pipes from all of its incarnations. Its brightness and color complement the wonderful late flamboyant Gothic sunlit nave of the church and indeed the music of Maurice Duruflé.
The last church we visited was Église Saint-Roch and its III/54 Cavaillé-Coll (1840, 1862), restored by Renaud in 1992, including the mechanical action with Barker levers on the Grand Orgue. At Saint-Roch, Cavaillé-Coll used pipework from previous organs dating to 1751. That evening, the group celebrated our final dinner near Sacré-Coeur Basilica on Montmartre.
Historic Organ Tour LVI showed us many treasures of the organ world from Catalonia and France. These instruments and the music written for them become vibrantly alive when yet again the organist places hands on those historic keys. From the camaraderie of our tour group to the magnificent organs of the Catalonian Renaissance and French classical and symphonic traditions, to the food and wine enjoyed on terraces in the warm evenings, our venture was a fun and enlightening two weeks.

Tour members
Betsy Cavnar
Jeffrey Chase
Christine Chun
Joanne Vollendorf Clark
John Clark
Ronald DeBlaey
Richard Ditewig
Bela Feher
Janice Feher
Esther Goh
Steven Hoffman
Timothy Huth
Jerry Jelsema
Gale Kramer
Evelyn Lim
Rose Lim
Marilyn Mason
Enid Merritt
Paul Merritt
Mary Morse
Winnifred Pierce
Jean Savage
John Savage

Almar Otjes (tour guide)