The Orchestral Organ
Pyotr Ilyich TCHAIKOVSKY (1840-1893)
Coronation March (1883) (transcr. G. J Bennett) [5:58]*
Samuel BARBER (1910-1981)
Adagio for Strings (1936) (transcr. W. R. Strickland) [9:55]
Charles GOUNOD (1818-1893)
Funeral March of a Marionette (1872) (transcr. W. T. Best) [5:22]
Gustav HOLST (1874-1934)
Suite No. 1 for Military Band, Op. 28, No.1 - Chaconne (1909) (transcr. H.
G. Ley) [5:16]*
Jean SIBELIUS (1865-1957)
Finlandia (1899) (transcr. H. A. Fricker) [8:50]
Emil von ŘEZNIČEK (1860-1945)
Praeludium and Chromatic Fugue (1904/1920) (transcr. the composer)
[13:39]**
Camille SAINT-SAËNS (1835-1921)
Orchestral Suite in D, Op. 49 - Romance (1863) (transcr. A. F. J. Renaud)
[6:03]*
Richard WAGNER (1813-1883)
Siegfried
- Forest Murmurs (1876) (transcr. J. H. Rogers) [4:23]*
Felix MENDELSSOHN (1809-1847)
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
- Scherzo (1826/1842) (transcr. S. P. Warren) [6:12]
Edvard Armas JÄRNEFELT (1869-1958)
Praeludium I1900) (transcr. G. B. Nevin) [3:10]
Giuseppe VERDI (1813-19
01)
Aïda
- Grand March (1871) (transcr. H. R. Shelley) [5:43]
Grand March (transcr. E. H. Lemare) [6:57]***
Jan Kraybill (organ)
rec. 2016, Helzberg Hall, Kauffman Center for the Performing Arts,
Kansas City, Missouri
Reviewed as a 24/176.4 download
Pdf booklet included
*First recording
**World premiere
***Bonus track available to stream/download
here
REFERENCE RECORDINGS RR-145 SACD
[74:31]
‘Pure magic’ - that was my unequivocal response to Jan Kraybill’s first
Reference album,
Organ Polychrome - The French School; indeed, it was one of my top picks for 2015. Not surprising, given the
abundance good things: a fine organist, a well-chosen programme, a fabulous
instrument, and the engineering talents of Keith O. Johnson and his team.
This follow-up, of transcriptions researched and assembled by producers
Marina and Victor Ledin, looks very enticing. Besides, it means I’m able to
revel in the sound of this 5,548-pipe Julia Irene Kauffman Kauffman
Casavant once more.
Of course, it was the venerable composer-organists of the 19th
century - Charles-Marie Widor and César Franck especially - who strove to
replicate the orchestra on the organ. They were aided in that enterprise by
the great organ builder Aristide Cavaillé-Coll (1811-1899). Happily, modern
instruments, such as the 1998 Goll at the Church of St. Martin, Memmingen,
are just as well suited to that repertoire, as Hans-Eberhard Ross’s Franck
series so amply demonstrates (Audite). That’s emphatically the case with the 2011 Kauffman Casavant, too. And
while these and other composer-performers were writing their organ
showpieces what had once been essentially a liturgical instrument was
morphing into a bona fide concert one. The process was helped by the
installation of organs in town halls and other public places; in turn, this
created a whole new audience, keen to hear celebrated organists play both
core repertoire and their transcriptions of orchestral favourites.
The Orchestral Organ
builds on those broad, well-established foundations. And, in the best
tradition, this programme is clearly designed to intrigue, entertain and,
quite possibly, educate. There are some familiar transcriptions among the
first recordings and a world premiere. Take Sibelius’s Finlandia for
instance, transcribed by the Canterbury-born conductor-organist Herbert
Austin Fricker (1868-1943), which I last heard played on the newly restored
Aeolian instrument at Duke University Chapel (Pentatone). Then there’s the Grand March from Verdi’s Aïda, by Fricker’s
compatriot, the organist Edwin Henry Lemare (1865-1934), who also
transcribed works by Brahms, Elgar and Wagner.
Note: the version included on the SACD is by the American
organist-composer Harry Rowe Shelley (1858-1947). The Lemare version is
a ‘bonus track’, available to stream or
download only
.
Kraybill starts as she means to continue, with an assured and magisterial
account of the march Tchaikovsky wrote for the coronation of Tsar Alexander
III in 1883. The transcription is by the English composer-organist George
Bennett (1863-1930), one-time organist of Lincoln Cathedral. The composer
may have had his reservations about the original, but listening to this
judicious, nicely scaled performance on the organ it’s hard to understand
why. As so often, Kraybill is a model of good taste in a piece of pomp and
pageantry that surely invites excess. Ditto the recording, which manages to
convey thrilling amplitude and a strong sense of presence without ever
sounding self-consciously ‘hi-fi’. How wonderfully couth this
instrument is, so secure in its distinctive ‘voice’ and fearless reach.
The success of albums such as this depends, in large part, on shrewd
programming, so the inwardness of Barber’s ubiquitous Adagio for Strings is a perfect antidote to all that royal
splendour. Spoiler alert: my problem is that this piece, originally written
for string quartet, has become synonymous with public mourning, something
for which it was never intended. In that respect it brings to mind the
expropriation of Mahler’s lovely Adagietto, used in Visconti’s film, Death in Venice. I daresay many listeners ‘read into’ the
Barber what they will, but I find it far more rewarding to approach the
various versions as pure music. The transcription for organ, by the
American conductor William Remsen Strickland (1914-1991), is no exception.
The latter is simply yet effectively constructed, with soft, punctuating
pedals and a singing treble line. Not only that, there’s a luminosity to
both the playing and the sound that’s very impressive indeed.
The transcription of Gounod’s Funeral of a Marionette - a work
originally intended as part of a a piano suite which never materialised -
is by yet another Englishman, the composer-pianist William Thomas Best
(1826-1897). And what a delightful little number it is, with its deft
rhythms and imaginative colours. Kraybill’s at her best in this kind of
music; her account of Felix Guilmant’s Caprice, on Organ Polychrome, is similarly fleet of foot and deliciously Gallic in its
wit and whimsy. Then again, this Casavant seems ideally attuned to music of
a light, mobile nature. By contrast, the Holst Chaconne, transcribed
by the English organist Henry George Ley (1887-1962), is a darker, more
formal piece that mimics the work’s origins - it was composed for military
band - with astonishing veracity and flair. Another unexpected treat, this,
Kraybill as beguiling as one could wish.
With Finlandia, Sibelius’s hymn to home, we move from the small
scale to the large. This performance certainly conveys the sense of a vast
landscape, but for added breadth and grandeur that Pentatone release,
Christopher Jacobson at the console, is hard to beat. He finds a swell and
surge in the music that comes convincingly close to the sheer physicality
of a large orchestra in full spate. Moreover, the Duke Aeolian has a big,
rolling bass, and Jacobson builds tension more successfully than Kraybill
does, with urgent rhythms and a truly spectacular finale. Still, there’s a
finesse to Kraybill’s playing, mirrored by a sensibly proportioned
recording, that brings its own rewards. Really, these are both fine
performances, each with their own virtues. However, if, like me, you feel
this is one piece that needs to be played for all it’s worth - with a sound
to match - then you know where to look!
Next up, a prelude and chromatic fugue originally written for large
orchestra by the Austrian composer Emil von Řezníček. He’s also responsible
for the subsequent organ transcription, which the booklet describes as
‘dark and complex’. That it most certainly is, but despite Kraybill’s
advocacy I find the piece curiously oppressive; also, at 13:39 it’s apt to
outstay its welcome. After that the Saint-Saëns Romance, transcribed
by the Parisian organist, composer and critic Albert Félix Joseph Renaud
(1855-1924), is a ray of sunshine. More than that, it has an aerated
elegance that’s a wonder to behold. In short, this is music - and
musicianship - suffused with a gentle joy, its radiance beautifully caught.
(And what a gloriously sustained pedal at the close.) Given the quality of
Renaud’s transcription, I was surprised to read that this is the work’s
first-ever recording. How fortunate, then, that it’s had such an auspicious
debut.
Organ fans familiar with the usual Wagner transcriptions - Ride of the Valkyries, anyone? - will be pleased to discover this
take on Forest Murmurs, by the American organist James Hotchkiss
Rogers (1857-1940). As expected, it showcases the Casavant’s cool,
pure-toned upper reaches and its warm, ‘woody’ sound at the bottom end. Even more
important, Kraybill’s performance captures that elusive Wagnerian pulse,
the single climax dispatched with a pleasing flourish. As for Mendelssohn’s Scherzo, attractively transcribed by the Canadian-born organist
Samuel Prowse Warren (1841-1915), it allows players and instruments to show
off their agility. In particular, Kraybill brings a freshness and
spontaneity to this old staple that’s long overdue. A smile a minute, as is
the jaunty little Praeludium by the Finnish composer Edvard Armas
Järnefelt. The transcription of his orchestral miniature is by the American
composer-organist Gordon Balch Nevin (1892-1943).
And what better way to end than with the celebratory march from one of
Verdi’s grandest operas, Aïda? As noted above, the SACD contains
Shelley’s transcription, with Lemare’s offered for streaming or download.
According to the Ledins’ very comprehensive liner-notes, Shelley - like
Lemare - was one of the most prominent and highly paid organists of his
generation. Those reared on the popular Lemare version will be pleasantly
surprised by the subtlety and rhythmic verve that Shelley brings to the
procession. The Casavant’s clear, burnished trumpets are just marvellous,
the exhilarating finale a fitting sign-off to the disc. True, Lemare’s
transcription sounds closer to Verdi’s original – it’s often leaner and
more transparent - but, consummate showman that he was, Lemare can’t resist
‘pulling out all the stops’ at the end. The Shelley is a real find, though,
and I’d urge all organ buffs to hear it.
A largely successful programme, studded with some real gems; fine playing and sound,
too.
Dan Morgan