French organs are known for their distinctive
ability to produce the widest range of colours. Where organ
builders of the 17th century German and Netherlandish schools
concentrated on the melding of each of the separate divisions
of an organ into a blended and powerful unit, with a few solo
stops added, and English 19th century organ builders preferred
the thicker orchestral imitations so characteristic of Willis
or Harrison, French instruments have always placed emphasis
on the individual timbres of stops. This was a feature of 17th
and 18th century French organs that was resurrected in the 19th
century by Aristide Cavaillé-Coll when creating the great
instruments such as that in Notre Dame de Paris. This characteristic
makes French organs some of the most enjoyable to hear, and
the most suitable for recording in a varied programme on CD.
The organist on this disc, Pascale Rouet, has been raised in
this French tradition, culminating in her winning the first
prize at the Toulouse International Contemporary Organ Competition
in 1986. Since 1991 she has been the organiste titulaire
of the Abbey of Mouzon and clearly knows the instrument well.
Arguing that the organ started out as a secular instrument she
makes a reasonable argument for the performance of dance music
upon it, although it is debatable in the extreme whether a work
like the Robertsbridge Codex from which comes the anonymous
estampie of track 7 would have been played on an instrument
any larger than a couple of ranks - certainly not on a large
18th century organ. Either way she plays the music with enough
flair and conviction to allow the secularisation of the Abbey
church to be momentarily put out of mind.
The main body of the programme is taken up
with music by Bernado Storace. Unjustly neglected, this is wonderfully
invigorating music that places Storace firmly at the beginnings
of the Italian baroque. The great chaconne on track 8 (sample
1) could easily run the risk of monotony, so short and memorable
is its chaconne theme. Rouets performance is brisk (maybe a
touch too brisk) and forceful in that the variation of registration
is limited to pleno throughout. However, her facility
and clarity of articulation make for a tremendous sense of forward
drive, which is exciting. At the other extreme, the delicate
balleto with which the programme opens, and the four dances
of Giovanni Picchi, show individual stops illustrating the subtle
side of this fine organ. (sample 2) Rather strangely, the programme
ends with a transcription of Bartóks Rumanian folk dances.
This is apparently just because Rouet likes them. Thats a fair
enough reason, but the sudden gear change from the baroque to
the 20th century is unprepared and not entirely successful,
although the playing is impressive. (sample 3)
The most amusement of the programme comes,
once again, from the dismal translation of the booklet notes.
In this instance gems such as "Bartók dances, drewed
from Rumanian folklore, seemed to me not so far from the spirit
of irridescents musics, also popular, coming rigth (sic.)
from the past" Do it? Do it really? Of course it is
impolite to moan about peoples bad English, but the notes are
meant to be there to illustrate the music, not to provide obfuscation.
In this case the unfortunate translator is one Michel Dehaye,
who also turns out to be the organ tuner. Pavane on the cheap
here methinks... Of the Chaconne, M. Dehaye manages "Very
closed from Passacaille, the Chacony is nearly the same model.
Mattheson precise that his tempo is rather slowly than those
of Passacailles. We must mention here the magnificents Chaconies
by H. Purcell." Why? None of them are played, and nothing
further is said about them. In fact, the notes in French are
by Pascale Rouet herself, and bear no resemblance to this banal
undergraduate effort. And one can hardly blame poor Mattheson
if his tempo is a little bit rather slowly - hes been dead for
238 years.
Peter Wells
Pascale Rouet