Best known for his six
Symphonies for organ, the blind
organist and composer
Louis Vierne studied with both César Franck and Charles-Marie Widor, and
was principal organist at the Cathedral of Notre-Dame in Paris from 1900 to his
death in 1937 while playing at the organ console. I must admit not to knowing
much about his other work, but the excellent booklet notes in this chunkily voluminous
production from Melba Records describe the personal agonies which dogged Vierne’s
life, and the inspiration for his vocal works. The four secular vocal works presented
here are a kind of combination between orchestral song and symphonic poem, very
much in a highly-charged late romantic idiom.
Les Djinns sets Victor Hugo’s poem of the same name, describing
the angst-ridden aura surrounding a flight of evil spirits. There is a little
of Dukas’s ‘Sorcerer’s Apprentice’ in the build-up from
dread to sheer terror, and a galloping chase which can no doubt trace some origins
back to Schubert’s
Erlkönig.
Eros sets a section from
Les
blouissements by the Countess Anna de Noailles, which deals with pagan sensuality
related to the more common themes of unrequited love and the fear of death. The
vocal lines are surrounded by beautifully orchestrated sounds which initially
conjure a kind of sultry nocturne moving into a dawn and daylight of languid
heat. This extended orchestral opening and the song itself builds to a passionate
climax reserved for the last minute or so of the work.
Coloured by the consequences to Vierne of the marriage of his benefactress Madeleine
Richepin,
Ballade du désespéré is filled with all
of the turbulence its title suggests. This is a powerful expression of character
and mood expressed by both a vocal part of operatic strength, and uncompromisingly
expressionistic orchestral gestures. The poem,
Nuits d’hiver by
Henri Murger, takes the form of a dialogue between the author and a stranger
who, knocking at the door, is intent on entering the house. Taking on numerous
tempting identities to gain ingress, the wildness of the bangs on the door takes
on the opulence and voluptuousness of fame and love, wealth, and the promise
of youth. The stranger is of course none other than Death personified, and, tired
of life and resigned to his release from earthly concerns, the poet and composer
follow death into the void. There is a great deal of stunning music in this heartfelt
and intensely dramatic work. There are some marvellous orchestral effects, such
as the muted strings where the music dips into a kind of smoky gloom at 11:16.
Not always one for high-romantic expression, I am truly grateful to have been
introduced to this powerful piece, and agree with Jacques Tchamkerten in his
notes, where he states that this is one of Vierne’s - and indeed the period’s
- strongest and most moving works.
Released from all this angst and intensity, the opening of
Psyché initially
brings us into more lyrical and pastoral regions. From Hugo’s
Chansons
des rues et des bois, the poem is an extended series of questions posed by
the poet to a butterfly - a psyche - which has flown into his bedroom. Plenty
of existential ground is covered, but in the end, the only answer is a kiss.
As with the other songs in this sequence, the influence of Wagner can be felt
in the harmonies and breadth of line in the music. Vierne builds and releases
tension highly effectively, and the sumptuous colours of his orchestration are
beautifully crafted and superbly performed by The Queensland Orchestra. Steve
Davislim’s singing is excellent throughout, with plenty of character and
depth, and with well-controlled and expressive phrasing and vibrato.
A little longer than 9 seconds might have been given between Vierne and Chausson,
but this is a minor point - ‘more of same’ is an arguable point of
view given the all-embracing title give to this release. Ernest Chausson’s
life was, by contrast with that of Vierne, untroubled by strife and suffering.
Moving in cultured circles, he studied with Jules Massenet and César Franck,
and is seen by musical history as something of ‘a link between Franck and
Debussy.’ One of his many artistic friends was the poet Maurice Boucher,
and the
Poème de l’amour et de la mer uses material from
his
Chansons de l’amour et de la mer. The piece as a whole is constructed
in two parts separated by an orchestral interlude. The general mood is of melancholy,
poingant nostalgia for happier times in the past. The final section
La mort
de l’amour is, after an initially more optimistic section, infused
with minor-key funereal gloom. The piece was originally written for tenor voice,
but as with the nicely done alternative of Susan Graham on Warner Classics and
Jessye Norman on Erato, is often taken by female singers. It is good to have
it here restored to its original version.
This release is in every way an admirable production. Rich SACD sound embraces
the listener from beginning to end, the singing is unencumbered by hystrionics
and the orchestral playing is nothing less than sublime. The thick, well bound
booklet which fills a chunky gatefold package includes all texts in French, English
and German. For anyone interested in French romanticism and orchestral song,
this is something to put on your must-have wishlist.
Dominy Clements
Steve Davislim
(tenor) 
[76:32] 
