Johann Sebastian BACH (1685-1750)
Prelude, Largo and Fugue in C, BWV545 [10:45]
Fantasia and Fugue in C minor, BWV537 [8:39]
Pièce d’Orgue, BWV572 [7:23]
Prelude and Fugue in B minor, BWV544 [10:40]
Fugue in G minor, BWV578 [3:16]
Prelude and Fugue in G minor, BWV535 (7:10]
“Dorian” Toccata and Fugue in D minor, BWV538, [11:34]
James Johnstone (organ)
rec. 2015, Roskilde Cathedral, Denmark
METRONOME METCD1095 [59:29]
The opening work is actually the Prelude and Fugue in C with a movement from the C major Trio Sonata inserted as a central movement. This takes its cue from a version going back to the late 18th century which, as James Johnstone observes in his booklet note, is “one of many versions brought down to us”. His slightly lumpy, stiff performance does not convince that this version is any more authentic than the myriad others which have different central movements inserted, no central movements at all, or transpose the whole thing down a tone.
With the Fantasia and Fugue in C minor and Pièce d’Orgue, which follow, we are on more solid ground, authentically speaking, since both works were conceived by Bach in the version which Johnstone presents here. Which is not to say he does not add something very individual in his interpretative approach. The Fantasia is given a reflective, almost introspective character, with an almost caressing feel courtesy of the gentle and warm-hearted flues of this visually and aurally stunning instrument. As for the instrument itself, it actually pre-dates Bach, having been built in the mid-1550s by Raphaëlis and restored with great sensitivity in 1991 by Marcussen. Its bright and glittering chorus work is splendidly portrayed in the C minor Fugue, which Johnstone approaches with restrained vitality, maintaining a kind of jovial but respectful dance momentum, perked up by some impressively crisp articulation. As for BWV572 (often referred to in the English-speaking world as the “Fantasia in G”) Johnstone opens it with some wonderfully flighty flutes (reminding us of Albert Schweitzer’s comment about it being “birdsong”) swooping up and down just like swallows in early summer. The subsequent Gravement lives up to its marking through a very hefty registration; Johnstone maintains a powerfully driving momentum throughout which is more jog than gravitas. Ever since first hearing a performance of this (given, I remember vividly, by Lucian Nethsingha at Exeter Cathedral) in which the strange and disturbingly chromatic final section returned to the registration of the opening to great effect, and learning the piece from the old Novello edition which stipulated that the final section should be played on full organ, I have been intrigued by how different many different approaches there are to this in terms of registration and speed. Johnstone goes for the loud registration and a frantic pace which turns the upward chromatic runs into what comes across, given the cathedral’s generous acoustic, as a series of muddling glissandi. It certainly shows off the organ and the player, even if it does not quite make convincing musical sense.
The energy and vitality injected into a very sprightly account of the B minor Prelude rather carries on where the Piece d’Orgue left off, and I waver between open-mouthed admiration for Johnstone’s astonishing pedal virtuosity here and astonished shock at how B minor can be made to sound so ebullient. Capped by a Fugue which Johnstone describes as “sober”; this makes for a most impressive performance. Interestingly, Johnstone writes of how in the central section of the Fugue, he moved on to a secondary manual with a split-sharp short-octave which “conveniently supplies all the necessary notes”.
Johnstone compensates for the Fugue in G minor’s brevity and lack of complexity with a wonderfully buoyant performance which pushes along and gives the listener a feeling not dissimilar to the heady experience of riding the surf in a sparkling aural environment. I particularly like the no-nonsense way Johnstone ends this. The early and largely uneventful Prelude and Fugue in G minor is elevated here by the flutes and echo effects which turn the Vivaldi-esque rows of sterile sequences into delicately fluttering delights. The striding Fugue subject is given a splendidly upbeat feel by Johnstone’s crisp and buoyant articulation as well as the organ’s bright mutation stops.
Crowning glory of this programme is Johnstone’s glittering, scintillating and immaculately crisp account of the “Dorian” Toccata and Fugue. A very brisk pace for the Toccata is magnificently maintained by immaculate footwork and incisive alternation between the manuals. As for the Fugue - one which, in the wrong hands, can all too easily descend into dreariness - it is brought to life here by a skipping, ornament-laden shaping of the subject and a perfectly chosen tempo which drives it along purposefully without any hint of breathlessness. And, as with everything on this disc, even if the interpretation does not suit every taste, the splendid sound of this organ and Metronome’s crystal clear recording makes for compulsive listening.
Marc Rochester
