Edit Events Le Chemin de la Croix, Op. 29 – Marcel Dupré - Frederick Teardo, organ

In 2007 Marilyn Mason celebrated her 60th year of teaching at the University of Michigan. She has taught at the university since 1947, making her the longest-tenured faculty member in the institution’s 190 years. On March 12, at Hill Auditorium, Dr. Mason played an impressive performance of Dupré’s Le Chemin de la Croix, with Malcolm Tulip, Professor of Theatre, reading the Claudel poems.
In writing his opus 29, Le Chemin de la Croix, Marcel Dupré was inspired by the meditations written in 1911 by Paul Claudel (1868–1955), diplomat, poet, and social activist who called France to revive its culture on the basis of its Catholic roots rather than futilely attaching itself to Nazism or Communism. Claudel’s career was part of the great awakening of Christian faith that occurred after World War I had shattered faith in merely secular reason. Like Mauritain, Gilson and Bernanos in France or T. S. Eliot and C. S. Lewis in England, Claudel made new the language, to reacquaint the modern world with the ancient verities that built the West.
Dupré first performed “Le Chemin” in February 1931 as improvisations played between the reading of the poems. He wrote the score the following year and played the composition each year from 1934–71 at St. Sulpice in Paris.
The 14 Stations of the Cross are an ancient meditation on the hours of Christ’s sufferings and crucifixion, developed as early as St. Bernard of Clairvaux and St. Francis of Assisi. While it was often typical to use the biblical passages that underlie eight of these stations or moments, Claudel uses a harsher, less immediately reverent language that reflects the hard-heartedness with which modern men and women look upon the sufferings of anyone, much less in a God to whose very existence they have grown insensitive.
Malcolm Tulip’s dramatic interpretation of these meditations captured that hard-edged, unsentimental view of those who believe that the burdens of a century of mechanized warfare are so great that they can afford to denigrate the infinite suffering of their Creator. That sense is vividly portrayed when the narrator asks, at the fall of Jesus under the weight of the cross, “How do you like the ground you created?” Yet the narrator is inevitably overwhelmed by the sorrow and the suffering of innocence, even as he is ever more disgusted by the endless violence of Christ’s tormentors.
It is this dialogue between persecution and pity that Dupré and Mason captured in majestic fashion. It seemed that every sound that the organ could evoke was included in Mason’s performance—for instance, the tender and compassionate music of the Eighth Station, where Jesus comforts the women of Jerusalem, and the wrenching sound of the reed choruses as their voices imitate the hammer blows in Station Eleven as Jesus is nailed to the cross. A series of slides projected on a large screen provided visual analogues from great art of these familiar scenes. The images provide a point of reference for which the eyes are initially grateful, but as the music takes hold, they become less important and the spoken word and the endlessly varied music makes one want to look at things which eye hath never seen.
This is a virtuoso piece for poet, composer, organist, and actor. Like a closet drama, it works to contain, in a miniature and even ordinary setting, an unimaginable splendor and size of theme and musical achievement. Those who attended both the majestic St. Matthew Passion on Good Friday and this quintessential recital on March 12, both at Hill Auditorium, were shown how the infinite can express itself in both the most grandiose and most personal of settings. It is a great tribute to the University of Michigan and its musicians that such meditations on what lies at the heart of existence still find a place in its arts. Marilyn Mason is to be deeply thanked for having the vision and the artistry to give this great treasure to the university community as her own Easter gift.
—Henry Russell, Ph.D.
President, SS Peter and Paul Educational Foundation
Ann Arbor, Michigan

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. 

John Bishop is executive director of the Organ Clearing House.

A matter of perception
In the March 2009 issue of The Diapason, I wrote:
Busy organists might be playing on dozens of instruments each year, but there are also many examples of lifelong relationships between players and their “home base” organs. Marcel Dupré played hundreds of recitals all over the world, but he was Organiste Titulaire at Saint-Sulpice in Paris from 1934 until 1971. He succeeded Charles-Marie Widor, who had held the position since 1870. So for more than a century that great Cavaillé-Coll organ was played principally by two brilliant musicians. What a glorious heritage. Daniel Roth has been on that same well-worn bench since 1985. I first attended worship in that church in 1998 and vividly remember noticing elderly members of the congregation who would remember the days when Dupré was their parish organist. I suppose there still may be a few. I wonder if any of them cornered Dupré after church to complain that the organ was too loud!
Ladislaw Pfeifer of the Cathedral of St. Michael the Archangel in Springfield, Massachusetts wrote,

Dear Mr. Bishop,
In your most recent Diapason article, you wondered if any of Marcel Dupré’s parishioners ever thought that he played too loud. That made me immediately recall a story that Robert Rayfield (organ dept. at IU—long time ago) enjoyed telling. He attended Mass at Dupré’s parish with some friends and Dupré was improvising the postlude in a manner worthy of The Church. Rayfield and his companions were ecstatic and then they noticed a woman kneeling in prayer trembling with her hands over her ears. The postlude ended and her hands came down. One of Rayfield’s companions approached the woman and asked why she covered her ears. She made a dramatic gesture, shook her head and said, “C’est épouvantable et c’est comme ça toutes les semaines.” “It’s terrible and it’s like this every week!”

I thought I was joking when I wondered if parishioners thought Dupré played too loud. What one thinks is sublime and inspiring, the other thinks is horrible—an imposition.
Marcel Dupré’s improvised postludes were instantly created, never to be heard again, brilliant art works. I imagine that they were sometimes furious, sometimes joyful, always complex, and yes, often very loud. The Cavaillé-Coll organ in St. Sulpice is a mighty instrument. Those visiting organists, schooled in the bewildering languages of musical expression, were transfixed and thrilled. The above-mentioned woman felt assaulted.
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Architect Frank Gehry has created some fascinating designs—buildings rife with curved lines and wavy spaces. The Experience Music Project is an interactive museum in Seattle, Washington, commissioned by Paul Allen and dedicated to Jimi Hendrix. You can find a fine photo gallery at <http://www.flickr.com/photos/heritagefutures/sets/72157604116603161/&gt;. I visited the EMP several years ago and found the building to be daring, unique, challenging, and complicated—I loved it. A colleague who lives in Seattle shared the local comment that it looks as though the Space Needle (next door) got undressed and threw her clothes in a heap, a sentiment that reminds me of the nickname given to another of Gehry’s controversial designs—the Disney Hall organ in Los Angeles as a “large order of fries.”
How do we react to innovation? I was organist of a suburban Congregational church when the United Church of Christ introduced The New Century Hymnal. Our parish purchased the new hymnal with a program of memorial gifts, and the old copies of the Pilgrim Hymnal were given to a hurricane-ravaged church in Mississippi. The congregation loved some of the hymns that were new to them and loved the fact that some “old chestnuts” that were missing from the Pilgrim Hymnal were present in the new one. They grappled with the altered words of Christmas carols (Good Christian friends, rejoice; Let every heart prepare Christ room; O come in adoration, Christ is Lord), and the modernization of language (Nearer my God to you . . . ). But the general reaction was positive, and we had lots of fun exploring together. During this months-long conversation I came across a printed review of another new hymnal that complained bitterly about the sacrilege of changing words in familiar hymns, of favorites being expunged, and of complicated new hymns being introduced. I published it in the parish newsletter, leaving for last the fact that it was a review written sixty years earlier about the then new Pilgrim Hymnal!
I pointed out to our congregation that somewhere, some distant congregation was the first to sing O Come, All Ye Faithful. Was it a disappointment for them that the processional hymn they were used to had been replaced?
We read that Mozart’s music was generally accepted with alacrity by his contemporary audiences, but Beethoven made his audiences work hard to understand the twists and turns he was adding to the language of music. Early twentieth-century composers like Alban Berg and Igor Stravinsky caused furors with their music—a riot broke out during the premier performance of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées in Paris. One account said the trouble started at the opening of the piece because audience members started disagreeing loudly about the unorthodox use of the bassoon.
What is the purpose of art? And when is art at its best? Is art (music, sculpture, painting, theater, literature) supposed to please us with beautiful sights and sounds? It’s a joy to walk through the Impressionist galleries in a great museum, savoring paintings of water lilies, gardens, dancers, and poplar trees. It’s a joy to hear a performance of Mozart symphonies and piano concertos. There’s no struggle, no challenges, no dissonance to the eye or ear, just beautiful images and sounds washing over you.
Or is art best and most meaningful when the artist takes us somewhere we haven’t been before? Picasso insisted that we look at a subject from many directions at once. We know it as cubism, and scholarship over the years has taught us what Picasso was up to when he apparently distorted images. But I’m sure that many people have been troubled by his innovative images.
The great thing is that we don’t have to choose. We can enjoy the beauty of an old Dutch landscape painting—snazzy bits of sunshine poking through gnarly leafy trees, nymphs bathing in springs, swans, clouds, a hint of a breeze. Or we can be moved and troubled by a raspy grumpy contemporary image that we don’t understand and fail to appreciate. My wife Wendy and I once saw an exhibition of German portraiture from the 1920s, and another of the work of Louis Comfort Tiffany in the same afternoon at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art. It was quite a jolt to move from the angular, dark, and spooky images of wealthy Jewish society in pre-Nazi Germany to the sumptuous and gleeful work of Tiffany with dazzling daffodils shown in stained glass.
We can hear the classy rhythms and rhymes of Cole Porter, or we can absorb the edgy, sometimes scary images of Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill. Weill’s Mahagonny and Porter’s Let’s do it were written one year apart.

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Let’s go back to the French woman with her hands over her ears. Why do people go to church? Is it to find comfort in the familiar litanies and rituals or is to be challenged to understand the most difficult issues of our humanity? Much of organized worship is predictable. Because of the nature of my work, I think I visit as many churches as anyone. It’s interesting to compare the Sunday bulletin from Congregational churches in Los Angeles and New York, or Brunswick, Maine and Norman, Oklahoma. For the most part, they could be interchangeable. Look at Christmas Eve bulletins from around the country and you find the same hymns in the same slots. For many people the quiet surroundings and the familiar prayers and stories provide a shelter from the tumult we face in day-to-day life. Too bad it has to be disrupted by some renegade organist sitting in a little booth forty feet up in the air.
But isn’t the church at its best when the preaching, the music, and education programs respond to the most difficult theological, social, even political issues of the day—when parishioners are challenged, when they leave the church troubled and questioning?
Just like the art museum or the concert hall, it’s both. The church comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comforted. I grew up in the Episcopal Church. My father is a priest and a music lover, and my musical life started with piano lessons and singing in the choir. As a kid I loved the pageantry of processions and sacraments. It was a beautiful brick-gothic church building with rich dark-stained oak carvings and decoration. There’s a Fisk organ in the rear gallery that was built when I was in high school (troubling to think that the organ is thirty-five years old now!). When I visit that building today I’m greeted by the familiar surroundings—it even still smells the same. But it was during the turmoil of the 1960s that that parish really grew. Dad came out against the war in Vietnam and led church members in civil rights protests. Of course some members were furious, withheld pledges, even left the parish, but that period of struggle was a catalyst for the parish’s growth.
If at least part of the role of the church is to challenge us to face difficult issues, then so should its musicians be encouraged to express their spirituality and emotions in the context of worship. We all love the old chestnuts. Church wouldn’t be church without rugged crosses, dewy roses, housed sparrows, and still small voices. But while we shouldn’t go out of our way to annoy the parishioners with bombastic music, we can lead them to higher places by challenging them with less comforting masterworks, especially if we make an effort to help them understand the music. A few words in the bulletin or newsletter can go a long way.
I don’t suppose that Dupré wrote notes in the newsletter explaining the music for next Sunday. Perhaps Madame would have reacted differently if she knew what was going on. I wonder if she had any idea that her parish organist was considered first a prodigy and then a genius by the wide world of organists. Did she realize that the music she was enduring was revolutionary? Did she know that there were international guests in the organ loft every Sunday, there to experience the work of the master? Could she pick out the plainsong melodies from the blazing mass of organ sound? Did she recognize the chorale melody in the heart of the improvisation? Did she understand the significance of the modal harmony? I don’t think so.

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As I write, André Isoir just burst into the noble opening of Widor’s Sixth Symphony. (G minor is a wonderful key!) This may not be sacred music, but it is certainly spiritual, and I suppose it was first played at St. Sulpice in Paris where Widor was organist for so long. Those poor women kneeling in prayer at the close of the Mass—their beads must have gone flying as Widor plumbed the depth of that great organ.
(A scene in a novel by Patrick O’Brian has the crew of a British naval warship being called to battle stations by the ship’s drummer who “woke the thunder in his drum.” I love that phrase, and it always comes to mind when a heroic organ starts to play.)
Marcel Dupré became organist at St. Sulpice upon Widor’s retirement in 1934 and remained at that post until his death in 1971. Olivier Messiaen (who was a student of Dupré at the Paris Conservatoire) was appointed organist at La Trinité in 1931. He “kept the bench” until his death in 1992. That’s a total of ninety-eight years. Allowing for vacations and concert tours, let’s call it forty-eight hundred Sundays. Think of those two innovative, dynamic, and highly spiritual musicians holding forth on opposite sides of the Seine for all those years. What a body of thunder created through the inspiration of faith. The world of the organ, in fact the world of music was changed forever by their genius and diligence. I’m sorry it was so hard on Madame, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The centenary of the birth of Olivier Messiaen (1908–1992) afforded the occasion at the University of Michigan’s 48th Annual Conference on Organ Music last October to gather performers, scholars and friends of Messiaen for a consideration of one of the twentieth century’s most original composers and to hear performed nearly all of his repertoire for organ. At the remove of nearly a quarter century from the premiere in 1986 of his last major work, Le Livre du Saint Sacrement, his legacy continues to influence today’s composers, performers and improvisers.
The Messiaen content of the conference included a lecture called “Visions of Glory,” by Professor Andrew Mead, reminiscences and a masterclass by Almut Rössler, a discography presented by Michael Barone, and performances including L’Ascension (Carolyn Shuster Fournier), Méditations sur la Sainte Trinité (Almut Rössler), La Nativité (students of James Kibbie), Quatuor pour la fin du Temps (University of Michigan students), and Le livre du Saint Sacrement (Jörg Abbing). In addition, various Messiaen compositions were included in a lecture-recital by Wayne Wyrembelski, and in recitals by students of Professors Mead and Mason, and by Naji Hakim.

Four great dramas in Messiaen’s musical life
Almut Rössler, daughter of a German Protestant pastor, knew and worked with the Roman Catholic mystic Olivier Messiaen for 50 years. Marijim Thoene reviewed two of Rössler’s presentations:

Almut Rössler lecture on performing Messiaen’s music
It was a distinct privilege to hear one of the greatest interpreters of Messiaen’s organ music, Almut Rössler, lecture on “Performing Messiaen’s Music.” This was her seventh visit from Düsseldorf, Germany to the University of Michigan to perform works of Messiaen and share her insights on the performance of Messiaen’s music, which is filled with the outpouring of his intense and profound faith in a musical language that is rhythmically complex and drenched in the colors of all creation. Professor Rössler worked closely with Messiaen for many years, playing his music on all types of organs. Her official studies began with him in 1951. She played four recitals of his works at La Trinité in Paris, where he was organist for 60 years. She organized the first Düsseldorf Messiaen Festival in honor of his 60th birthday in 1968 and participated in many other conferences focusing on his music throughout Europe. She was not only his student, but also his friend and confidante. She is the one Messiaen chose first to look at his last organ work, Livre du Saint Sacrement (Book of the Blessed Sacrament), which she premiered in Detroit for the 1986 AGO convention.
Professor Rössler based her lecture on Messiaen’s own description of four dramas in his life as a composer, as written in a parish letter for La Trinité. His description is especially poignant because each drama offers invaluable biographical information as well as insights into how he wished his music to be performed. These four dramas included (1) the religious musician (bringing faith to the atheist), (2) the ornithologist, (3) the synaethesiac, and (4) the rhythmicist. For brevity’s sake I will offer just a glimpse of Messiaen the composer as described by Almut Rössler, which is pertinent to the performance of his organ works.
(1) To play the music of Messiaen, whose devotion to the Roman Catholic Church permeated every fiber of his being, one must have a knowledge of prayer, understand the symbolism of sound, e.g., the Incarnation; one must have a personal faith and a reverence for holy things.
(2) The underlying source of Messiaen’s passion for notating birdsong is expressed by Messiaen himself in his preface to his Quartet for the End of Time: “The abyss is Time, with its sadnesses and weariness. The birds are the opposite of Time; they are our desire for light, for stars, for rainbows, and for jubilant song.” His complicated rhythms are notated precisely, and one must subdivide major beats into 32nd notes and 16th notes, and be able to maintain the pulse of the larger beat and to switch fluently between larger and smaller note values.
(3) Messiaen was a “synaethesiac.” He saw colors when he heard certain sounds. He explains this phenomenon as “an inner vision, a case of the mind’s eye. The colours are wonderful, inexpressible, extraordinarily varied. As the sounds stir, change, move about, these colours move with them through perpetual changes.” (Contributions to the Spiritual World of Olivier Messiaen, by Almut Rössler, Duisburg: Gilles and Francke, 1986, p. 43.) In playing Messiaen’s works, one must always consider the sound that he specifies; the instrument must contain the colors and intensity of power that is required; dynamic power is of utmost importance.
(4) Messiaen’s business cards were printed with his name followed by “composer” plus the term “rhythmicist.” For Messiaen, rhythm is not strict like a marching band, but is the rush of wind and the shape of the seas. He used added time values to break up the regularity of notes. Rössler advised learning his music on the piano, and when all of the nuances are worked out and when it sounds beautiful, then play it on the organ and transfer the subtle treatment of time to the organ. Messiaen does not have metronome markings in his scores because every organ and room is different. There should be a dialogue between the room and the player. In a slow tempo one should not play more slowly in a resonant room. The performer has to produce resonance within himself.

Almut Rössler masterclass on La Nativité
Students of Professor James Kibbie, including Thomas Kean, John Woolsey, Laura Kempa, John Beresford, Andrew Herbruck, Richard Newman, and Diana Saum, played La Nativité du Seigneur, and afterwards Professor Rössler offered comments and suggestions. She congratulated Prof. Kibbie and his students, saying, “the performance was eloquent to the spirit of the work.”
These selected comments reflect Rössler’s keen insights and power to communicate very complex ideas in simple terms: “Don’t play squarely! Remember, if there are no staccato marks, the passage is to be played legato. The performer must have his own vision of eternity. Know the meaning of every word on the page. If staccato chords occur in a slow movement, you must feel like a sculptor who forms things when you release the chords.” In Méditation VII, Jesus accepte la souffrance, she was especially graphic in her comments: “I would like to see your claws. You have to feel like a tiger. The attitude toward the piece must be felt in your body, you must play it with all your force. The cross must sound like a suffering instrument, not a nice cross around your neck.”
Thank you, Almut Rössler, for bringing us the glorious music of Messiaen and sharing with us his vision of the universe.
—Marijim Thoene, DMA

The mystic striving to be
understood
Rössler suggested that, perhaps because his musical language was unconventional and because he wanted to be understood, Messiaen provided many references to biblical, liturgical and theological texts, and he published many explanations. She noted his preoccupation with rhythm. Her advice to students included the paradox that one must observe the durations of notes extremely precisely, yet in a stream of many notes of equal value one must create accents by the subtle management of time. In his music, she learned, birdcalls alone stand outside the strict requirements for durations. This is consistent with his notion that time is an abyss and the sounds of birds are beyond the limits of time.
Alan Knight corroborated Messiaen’s desire to be understood in his review of Rössler’s performance of Le Banquet Céleste and Méditations sur le Mystère de la Sainte Trinité:
In her words of introduction, Marilyn Mason recalled Rössler’s six previous visits to Ann Arbor. Before she played, Rössler commented on the experience of first encountering the piece in Messiaen’s presence. The then “new” composition turned out to be, in her words, “a beautiful piece!”
She described its theological and musical outline as follows. The odd-numbered movements—1, 3, 5, 7 and 9—take up the Trinitarian texts from Thomas Aquinas’s Summa Theologica, (as, the Essence of God–mvt. 3, the Attributes of God–mvt. 5, etc.), while the even-numbered movements—2, 4, 6 and 8—musically and theologically amplify and expand upon the preceding odd-numbered movements. The developmental process here, she explained, is comparable to that of Beethoven. The texts for the even-numbered movements were selected from the liturgy and the Scriptures. Movement 8, for instance, deals with both the three Persons and the Oneness of God. Romans is quoted: “O the depths of the richness of the wisdom and the knowledge of God!” God is simple is Messiaen’s primary meditation in this movement, with the chant taken from the Alleluia of All Saints Day. Intermittently, three chords are repeated in varying rhythms to signify that the triune God is eternally One.
With this short explanation and a page of notes on the themes, Rössler’s performance was easy to take in. She played Le Banquet Céleste as a prelude to the cycle. (This was not applauded, creating an ambiance for meditation—a good idea.) From the quiet opening to the end of the recital, one had the pleasing conviction that Messiaen had heard all of this and had commented on it in detail. Ms. Rössler played with marvelous ease, movement, freedom, and sureness.
—Alan Knight, DMA

In other Messiaen presentations, Michael Barone, a frequent presenter at the U-M conferences, played selected recordings from a discography that he compiled of Messiaen’s recorded organ works up to 1955. The earliest commercial Messiaen recording anywhere was made by the late University of Michigan Professor Robert Noehren, playing La Nativité at Grace Episcopal Church, Sandusky, Ohio, on a historic Johnson organ rebuilt by Schlicker and Noehren. The two earliest recordings of L’Apparition de l’Église éternelle were by Jean Langlais and by the American Richard Ellsasser playing at the Hammond Museum in Gloucester, Massachusetts. Barone played portions of Leopold Stokowski’s recording of Messiaen’s original version of L’Ascension, which Messiaen scored for orchestra. Barone’s summary comment was, “Our experience of Messiaen continues. He helps us look at things in ways we had not imagined.”
Besides bringing a brilliant reading of L’Ascension, Carolyn Shuster Fournier presented Ubi caritas by Jacques Charpentier, written for organ and unison women’s and children’s voices.
The culminating recital, Le Livre du Saint Sacrement, was played by German organist Jörg Abbing, who had studied it with Rössler. Fierce concentration allowed him to play the two-hour program with only two hours of preparation time on the organ. His playing projected conviction, accuracy and stamina. A day earlier he played an entire Bach program on the Wilhelm organ at the Congregational Church, filling in at the last minute, and a day or two later he played a “post-conference” program of Italian music at the Methodist Church—clearly a young performer with depth and energy.
There were excellent presentations that did not feature Messiaen or his music exclusively. Craig Scott Symons, with Sonia Lee, violin, and Elizabeth Wright, soprano, spoke about and put a spotlight on lesser known but deserving works of Sigfrid Karg-Elert. The Ann Arbor AGO chapter sponsored a youth choir festival organized and directed by Dr. Thomas Strode and AGO Dean James Wagner, which attracted an audience of 250 to the opening event of the conference. Accompanist Scott Elsholz delighted his audience with a demonstration of the Hill Auditorium pipe organ using Star Wars themes. Faculty member Michele Johns premiered a new work for organ by Geoffrey Stanton.
Naji Hakim, full of vitality and virtuosity, dedicated the rebuilt organ at Ann Arbor’s Church of St. Thomas the Apostle. In addition to Bach’s E-minor Prelude and Fugue and Franck’s Prière he played Le Vent de l’Esprit from Messiaen’s Pentecost Mass, but he surpassed everything else on the program with the performance of his own compositions, Glenalmond Suite and the Sakskøbing Præludier. Himself a pupil of Langlais, Hakim’s comments earlier to students on improvisation covered an astonishing range of ideas beyond those that simply describe techniques, and they included some thoughts on time. An improvisation exists in real time; therefore it can express what the performer feels instinctively at that moment. A composition, on the other hand, may have been written over the course of three weeks and performed in three minutes. Reasoning plays a larger role in this process. Memory, and by extension time, is an essential ingredient of love, he asserted, because you can’t love something or someone that you don’t recognize or remember. Therefore, to improvise on a theme can be an act of love. When all is said and done, an improvisation should sound like a composed work, and a performance of a composed work should sound improvised. Contrast Hakim’s preference for improvisation, by his own description a spontaneous reaction in the moment, albeit one that has required years of mental and technical preparation, to Messiaen’s preference for written composition, a more enduring construction that relies on the mental processes of reason and reflection, albeit in the service of expressing what is immeasurable.
The University of Michigan Historic Organ Tour, now in its 30th year, is another Marilyn Mason innovation that has fruitfully endured over time. Four organists from the most recent trip to Budapest, Vienna, Salzburg, and Prague performed music from their recitals in Prague and Vienna. They were Joanne Vollendorf Clark, Stephen Hoffman, Janice Fehér, Charles Raines and Gale Kramer. In memory of the late Robert Glasgow, Clark and Raines played from A Triptych of Fugues by Gerald Near, which the composer had dedicated to Prof. Glasgow in 1965. Adding a visual component to the organ conference, photographic artist Béla Fehér presented a slide show documenting the sumptuous organs and churches visited on the tour.
“The Triumph of Time” is the subtitle of a forgotten novel that Shakespeare recast as The Winter’s Tale. Considering the special significance of time, both mensural and emotional, in Messiaen’s works, as well as the perspective of time brought by the 48th annual occurrence of the event, the subtext of this conference may aptly have been The Triumph of Time.
Time, the ever-rolling stream, had recently borne away Robert Glasgow, whose performing career and 44 years on the University of Michigan faculty from 1962 to 2006 were remembered by Marilyn Mason. Her own creations have endured through time. Performer, networker, fundraiser, teacher, she presides over the annual Organ Conference, the summer Organ Institute, and the Historic Organ Tour, which continue to educate us and enrich our lives.
Rössler commented that Messiaen lived in his own interior world, and that he was a very calm person. Listening to so much of his music in a few days I realized that it has a few fast outbursts (Transports de joie, Dieu parmi nous) surrounded by long stretches of tempos marked, extremely slow, or very slow or slowly and tenderly. This week of recitals included, probably inevitably, three performances of Le banquet céleste and three of L’Apparition de l’Eglise éternelle. At first I began to anticipate yet another very slow performance, secretly wishing that someone had excised the repetitions in the programs. But by the end I had accepted Messiaen’s perspective on time and I began to appreciate what goes on in the duration of a sound, not just where it is going next.
—Gale Kramer, DMA

Summing up
For the past 47 years, the University of Michigan has presented a conference on organ music of outstanding quality under the able leadership of Marilyn Mason, chairman of the department.
The emphasis of the 48th conference, which began October 5 and continued for three days, was on the music of Olivier Messiaen. Numerous recitals and lectures explored the many complex aspects of his musical language. Headliners Naji Hakim and Carolyn Shuster Fournier from Paris and Almut Rössler from Düsseldorf all knew Messiaen and could interpret his music with enormous insight. Additional lecturers were Michael Barone of Pipedreams fame and Andrew Mead, Professor of Theory at the University of Michigan.
Germany was also given admirable attention. Craig Scott Symons presented a lecture recital on Karg-Elert, and Jörg Abbing of Saarbrücken played an all-Bach program that included chorale settings, three counterpoints from the Art of Fugue, and the Passacaglia and Fugue. It was a stellar performance in technical prowess and aesthetic understanding. The very next evening he played an all-Messiaen program, the Livre du Saint Sacrement!
The organ conference is always a “total immersion” experience, in which participants listen and think about the music being studied with intensity and dedication; several organists remarked that they cherish these days in October each year, since it is an opportunity to come to Ann Arbor and learn from the “best of the best.”
—Linda Pound Coyne

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.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tournemire’s Triple Choral contains three sources of inspiration:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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