Though I was aware of the well-liked Guild ‘Complete Organ Works 
                of Dupré’, performed by Jeremy Filsell, and of a similar series 
                on Naxos, the existence of a third series in process from Ben 
                van Oosten on the MDG label had somehow eluded me. I am, however, 
                glad to make its acquaintance belatedly with the ninth volume 
                in the series, even if these are not Dupré’s best, or best-known 
                works. Played alongside the most recent Dupré organ work that 
                I have reviewed, his Prelude and Fugue in g minor on Christopher 
                Herrick’s Organ Fireworks XII (CDA67612) 
                these are very small beer. 
                
Like my colleague CB, reviewing Volume 7 – see 
                  review 
                  – I find myself praising the performances but left slightly 
                  out in the cold by the music. The 24 Inventions take 
                  almost as long to perform as Beethoven’s Diabelli Variations 
                  and, though they employ the title Invention, I know which of 
                  these works displays the greater degree of that quality. MDG 
                  are recording the music in more or less chronological order 
                  and, sadly, I have to agree with CB that it is his earlier music 
                  which makes the greater impact. I have to confess that I began 
                  this review several weeks ago and, convinced that I had finished 
                  it and sent it off, set it to one side. Mea culpa, mea maxima 
                  culpa, MDG. As I now discover, that must have been due to 
                  some deeply unconscious memory that the music had not appealed 
                  to me. 
                
GMS praised Volume 6 in this series unreservedly, 
                  though he admitted to finding the later music on that volume, 
                  the two-movement Annonciation, Op.56, harder to come 
                  to terms with than the Op.28 and Op.48 works with which it is 
                  coupled – see review. 
                  Op.56 came between the Inventions of 1956 and the Trois 
                  Hymnes (1963). The notes which accompany Volume 9 admit 
                  that this was not a very creative period for Dupré: at the age 
                  of 68 he had reluctantly agreed to become Director of the Paris 
                  Conservatoire, not a position to which he was naturally well 
                  suited – he described it as a preview of purgatory. 
                
Those notes describe the Inventions as exquisite. 
                  I am sure that some of them would make an excellent preamble 
                  for a congregation awaiting the beginning of Mass, Vespers or 
                  its English equivalent Evensong in a collegiate church or cathedral. 
                  They are emphatically not my cup of tea for hearing one after 
                  the other, though I admire their craftsmanship. Like Bach’s 
                  Well-tempered Klavier, they explore all the major and 
                  minor keys from C major to e-flat minor; alternating major and 
                  minor, they ought to offer a pleasing variety – which they do, 
                  in a sense – but I perceive them as far more of an academic 
                  exercise than the Bach. 
                
Nor was I much more impressed with the Three 
                  Hymns, for Matins, Vespers and Lauds. The notes inform us 
                  that the music is modal and liturgical in character but not 
                  based on any existing tunes – which means that the term ‘liturgical’ 
                  is actually meaningless in this context. The notes are correct, 
                  however, in saying that the music evokes a monastic – I’d rather 
                  say ‘contemplative’ – atmosphere, though the final piece, Lauds, 
                  is vigorous in nature. 
                
Again, I can imagine myself admiring the music 
                  more as a prelude to one of these services or as an interlude 
                  between Matins and Lauds when these services are run together, 
                  as they usually were in the Tridentine rite, before Vatican 
                  II replaced them with the mundane English of Morning Prayers. 
                  Are the vernacular translations in other languages as awful 
                  as the modern Roman and Anglican versions, which often cut perversely 
                  across the flow of the Latin cursus, so beautifully respected 
                  by Cranmer’s 16th-century originals? “The Lord be 
                  with you – And with thy spirit” is dignified; “And also with 
                  you” falls flat on its face and refuses to get up. Don’t even 
                  try to sing it. Wisely, Radio 3 broadcasts of Anglican Choral 
                  Evensong still employ the 1662 version in preference to the 
                  modern mish-mash. 
                
Though I knew that there was no underlying chant, 
                  something made me keep listening expectantly, as if I might 
                  find something. Perhaps it was the knowledge that 20th-century 
                  French organ composers do often use Gregorian themes – Duruflé’s 
                  Quatre Motets, for example – which made me listen for 
                  the non-existent, or maybe it was due simply to the fact that 
                  I love and review a lot of Renaissance music where I have become 
                  accustomed to listening for a cantus firmus. 
                
I cannot fault the performances or the recording. 
                  The organ, too, that of the church of Saint-Étienne-du-Mont, 
                  Paris, is ideal for the music. First built by Le Pescheur in 
                  1636 and most recently rebuilt in 1991, its greatest claim to 
                  suitability lies in its Cavaillé-Coll rebuild of 1863. I’m sure 
                  that Dupré can be played on other organs – as witness the Herrick 
                  recording to which I have referred, on the organ of Haderselev 
                  Cathedral, Denmark – but it certainly helps. The booklet contains 
                  a full specification of the instrument, though the registration 
                  chosen for each piece is not given.
                
You may like the music here much more than I did 
                  – try before you buy, if possible. Far better, though, to go 
                  for one of the excellent versions of Dupré’s Chemin de la 
                  Croix – van Oosten’s own well-liked version (MDG 316 0953-2) 
                  or the CPO SACD with interpolated Passiontide chants, which 
                  JQ praised so highly (777 128-2 – see review 
                  – also available as a 320kbps mp3 download from classicsonline.com 
                  for £7.99). For a 2-CD introduction to Dupré’s music, try John 
                  Scott’s Hyperion recording, recently reissued as a lower-mid-price 
                  Dyad set (CDD22059 – see DC’s enthusiastic review). 
                
The Guild series is available to download in mp3 
                  format from Chandos’s theclassicalshop.net for £6.00 per volume: 
                  Le Chemin de la Croix is on Volume 10, GMCD7193. Some 
                  Guild recordings are also available to download on emusic but 
                  not, apparently, any of the Dupré series. 
                
              
My lukewarm reaction to this Dupré CD may have 
                been coloured by the fact that I listened to it just after playing 
                Jennifer Bate’s splendid Beauvais recording of Messiaen’s Les 
                Corps Glorieux – strongly recommended as an mp3 download from 
                theclassicalshop.net for a mere £4.50 as part of their Messiaen 
                centenary year special offer: no booklet of notes, but a splendid 
                bargain.
                
                Brian 
                Wilson