Jean Guillou has long been recognised as a world class organist,
and as well as numerous highly regarded recordings his work
as an improviser has also been released on record. The booklet
notes reveal a number of unusual creative aspects of Guillou
about which I was less familiar. As a pianist he revived the
Sonata for piano by Julius Reubke, a pupil of Liszt who
died at the age of 24. Guillou is apparently the only musician
to have performed both Reubke’s piano sonata and the Sonata
for organ, the two pieces which remain as that composer’s only
real legacy. A constant pioneer in uses for and design of the
organ, Guillou has combined it with numerous instruments in
his work, and as well as three symphonies and two piano concertos,
has also written seven concertos for orchestra and organ.
The Concerto Grosso is representative of Jen Guillou’s
style of composing, whose “music is a theatrical stage [which]
deals with dialogues between instruments as dramatic cues and
sets up timbral vividness as lightening shafts.” The linguistic
idiom of the booklet translation aside, this is a nicely produced
and well recorded disc which accurately reflects this timbral
vividness. On the subject of the booklet, my only criticism
is the lack of any information on the maker of the organ-pipe
man on the cover and all over the place elsewhere. The original
Concerto Grosso of 1978 is written for a conventional
orchestra of strings, woodwinds and horns, but now uses a rich
battery of percussion. These additions were done without adapting
any other part of the score, but as Sylviane Falcinelli correctly
point out, it would be hard to imagine the piece without its
dramatic extra colours and textures, now a decisive element
in the character of the piece. The work alternates between lyrical
calm and extremes of con fuoco energy. The piece might
as well be called ‘Concerto for Orchestra’, with the composer’s
own commentary a useful indicator of his attitude, one revealed
clearly in this performance: “I attach importance to... hearing
every instrument as a soloist; I like these instruments coming
out individually, or put upon a pedestal... even when they are
playing together.” The result is a fascinating technical kaleidoscope,
tricky to assimilate on a single listening, but ultimately quite
approachable. Guillou’s craftsmanship as an orchestrator and
his playful but highly structured use of musical material results
in a piece which stands up well viewed from all angles. He doesn’t
go in for big tunes, and is ultimately less refined in comparison
to, say, Henri Dutilleux. The conviction behind the score and
its performance on this recording certainly win through however,
and this is a work which deserves wide recognition.
More than twice as long as its partner on this programme, the
Concerto 2000 is subtitled Concerto pour orgue et
orchestre, but shifts one’s expectations of such a piece
right from the start. The composer’s words once again summarise
this approach: “When I first composed organ concertos, the topic
for me was not to use the instrument in its monumental scope
as often done before, but to find some tones liable to become
to become cousins - if I may out it thus - of orchestral tones,
to such an extent that they can merge into one instrument.”
This comment on earlier works is relevant in this case, the
Concerto 2000 having been derived at least in part from
material used in Guillou's fourth concerto, ‘rethought and developed’
into a government commission and a new piece with which to celebrate
the composer's 70th birthday. This CD release on the Orchestre
National des Pays de la Loire’s own label celebrates his 80th.
As described, there is certainly no element of a soloist/accompaniment
role between the organ and the orchestra. Both instruments inhabit
the same worlds, equal in significance and power, interacting
in strange and virtuosic ways, advancing and receding, intertwined
and inextricable. The most magical moments are to be found in
unexpected regions of timbre relationships and nuanced colour
of sound, as well as some jaw-dropping climaxes. There are themes
which appear and are thrown around amongst the orchestral sections
and the organ, but this is a musical environment in which one
feels the score is as good as invisible: that this is a unique
and spontaneous event where no two performances could possibly
be even remotely similar. Comparisons with other composers are
hard to draw. The piece has an intensity of action within which
fragments can remind one of a wide range of other work, but
each association is so fleeting and fragmentary that remarking
upon them would be a futile exercise.
As ever when becoming used to a ‘new’ composer, it can take
a little while to become accustomed to style and idiom. Guillou’s
music can at first seem to have something of a scattergun approach
to tonality and thematic development, a raw and overwhelming
energy which may be hard to take at first. The swiftly changing
‘lightening shafts’ mean that there is never a dull moment,
but there is also a sense of instability and constantly shifting
sands which is less easy to navigate than with more conventional
composers. The lack of clearly differentiated movements over
the great 48 minute span of Concerto 2000 is perhaps
a little daunting, but the ride is a magnificently exciting
one and I certainly never felt the work outstaying its welcome
- indeed, I would happily put up my hand in a crowded room of
sceptics and lay claim to this as a masterpiece for the new
century. As organist in his own concerto Jean Guillou is of
course beyond criticism, and the feeling of an orchestra giving
its all to make this into a superb creative product in this
spectacular live performance is present at every moment. Jean
Guillou is essentially a modern romantic, uncompromisingly and
intensely personal and anti-trend, and the resultant work is
a remarkable achievement. If your interests seek new horizons
which blast the listener into an entirely different orbit beyond
the Catholic infinities of Messiaen or the intellectual rigours
of Boulez, then this should be a central stop on your métro
journey of discovery.
Dominy Clements
Jean Guillou (organ) 
