Sometimes one feels like a small child in a sweet shop, such is 
                the mouth-watering selection of organ recordings on display. On 
                a high shelf and in the most imposing jar must be those from the 
                Finnish label Fuga, whose treats feature the Finnish organist 
                Kalevi Kiviniemi. I’ve commented at length on the technical and 
                artistic merits of these discs, most notably the Lakeuden Risti 
                recital that topped my list of picks for 2009 – 
review. 
                Underpinning the success of this series is the work of producer/sound 
                engineer Mika Koivusalo, surely one of the finest of his breed. 
                I never tire of hearing his handiwork, which comes so much closer 
                to the live experience than anything I’ve encountered in 35 years 
                of listening to organ music. That, combined with well-chosen programmes 
                and instruments, makes these very desirable discs indeed. 
                  
                This new recording, made in Finland’s Espoo Cathedral, is no different. 
                Well, it is a little, for the instrument you hear is now history. 
                The 15
th-century cathedral has had several organs since 
                the first was installed in 1791, the latest a splendid 32-stop 
                instrument built in 1967. It was modified in 1989, gaining another 
                six stops, but in 2007 the cost of repair and refurbishment was 
                such that it made more sense to install a brand-new instrument. 
                Thanks to Mika and his brother Petri, Espoo’s organist and director 
                of its chamber choir, the distinctive sound of this organ has 
                been committed to disc; the last sessions were completed in January 
                this year, just a month before the organ was due to be dismantled. 
                
                  
                And although it’s a family affair – and that includes the impressive 
                booklet photos – there’s no hint of vanity or self-serving publicity 
                here; indeed, there’s an abiding warmth and spontaneity to Petri’s 
                playing that is hard to resist. And while this isn’t the most 
                colourful or subtle of instruments it does have a lovely sparkle 
                to the upper registers, the bass full and resonant but never overpowering. 
                That’s probably an apt description of this programme as a whole, 
                the works – and registrations – judiciously chosen. The airiness 
                of the Bach concerto’s second movement is matched by lightly sprung 
                rhythms in the concluding Presto and playing of great dignity 
                and charm in the Lenten chorale 
O Mensch, bewein’ dein’ Sünde 
                gross (‘O Man, bewail your great sins’). 
                  
                Anyone familiar with the sound of earlier Fuga discs will recognise 
                the abundance of detail and amplitude on offer here. This organ 
                is no behemoth, and there’s no attempt to turn this into another 
                of those dreary ‘organ spectaculars’. And even if you don’t have 
                an SACD player this hybrid disc sounds just fabulous in its CD 
                form, the Super Audio layer delivering even greater definition 
                and heft. As always, good production values tend to produce good 
                sonic results, and one senses equal care and attention has been 
                lavished on both mixes. It’s an approach I commended in my 
review 
                of 
Visions, Channel’s recent disc of harp music from Lavinia 
                Meijer. There, too, technology is at the service of the music, 
                and that’s the way it should be. 
                  
                Sulo Salonen may be unfamiliar to some – he’s certainly new to 
                me – but his Partita 
‘Sen suven suloisuutta’ (‘The loveliness 
                of that summer’) is a delightful set of five variations, the second 
                of which is despatched with fluency and charm. By contrast, the 
                third is rather bluff, focusing on the organ’s lower registers 
                and full, warm pedals. The cascading fourth is much sunnier, the 
                fifth the most majestic of them all. Not hugely inventive, perhaps, 
                but pleasing nonetheless. And there’s majesty aplenty at the heart 
                of Joonas Kokkonen’s 
Lux aeterna (‘Eternal light’), which 
                modulates from devotion to ecstasy, culminating in a finale of 
                real radiance and power. 
                  
                There’s no sense of the showman triumphant; yes, Petri’s style 
                
is self-effacing, but it strikes me as absolutely right 
                for this programme. Oskar Lindberg’s 
Old Folk-Chorale from 
                Dalarna is a case in point; it’s rather dour, yet behind this 
                gruff exterior Petri finds a wistfulness that is most engaging. 
                All very different from Oskar Merikanto’s 
Wedding Hymn, 
                the start of which has a breadth, a grandeur that reminds me of 
                Kivineimi’s commanding survey of Sibelius’s organ works – 
review. 
                And what a rich panoply of sound the Espoo instrument produces 
                here, the deep, rolling bass especially well caught. The Rheinberger 
                excerpt is much more fleet-footed, the focus on upper sparkle 
                and a discreet, rhythmic pedal. 
                  
                As for the Mendelssohn sonata, I find the first movement rather 
                drab and airless. Typically Victorian, perhaps, all heavy swags 
                and thick rugs, but at least the second movement is lighter and 
                more deftly scored. Of the two Vierne lollipops 
Clair de lune 
                (‘Moonlight’) is just too lugubrious for me, and not even this 
                organist can penetrate the gauzy veil that hangs over this piece. 
                As for 
Carillon de Westminster, the pacing seems too ponderous, 
                textures too opaque, with buoyancy and articulation the main casualties 
                here. Those famous chimes really ought to ring out more; also, 
                there’s a touch too much bluster in the finale. Not particularly 
                subtle, then, but a rousing send-off for this instrument. 
                  
                I really don’t want to end on a sour note. This is still a most 
                enjoyable programme – the lesser-known pieces perhaps the most 
                successful – and I’d happily recommend it to organ buffs and audiophiles 
                alike. Ultimately, though, this is a tribute to a now-defunct 
                instrument, and what better eulogy than this beautifully produced 
                recording? 
                  
                
Dan Morgan