This recording is special for a number of reasons, but in particular
as a ‘tale of two organs’. Situated in the neighbouring
parishes of Altenbruch and Lüdingworth the respective so-called
‘peasants’ cathedrals’ stand as symbols of the
region’s past wealth and cultural status. The history of
both organs is outlined in the well presented booklet notes, and
it suffices to say that the style and sound of both instruments
would have been familiar to, and is known to have been admired
by both of the makers involved in their construction.
Pictured in the booklet, both instruments are ambitious of design
and substantial in size. The acoustics of both churches however
reveal relatively intimate spaces, and the engineers will not
have been troubled by the detail in the sound being swamped by
over-lively reverberation. The first eight of the eleven pieces
on this disc were recorded on the Klapmeyer organ in the St. Nicolai
Church in Altenbruch, the final three on the Wilde-Schnitger organ
in the St Jacobi church in Lüdingworth. The Altenbruch instrument
is a delicious combination of colours which come over beautifully
in this close sounding recording. Such an instrument can take
this kind of scrutiny in its stride, and organ fans can revel
in a superbly well balanced disposition of almost entirely original
17th and early 18th century pipes. The same goes for the Lüdingworth
instrument, which has an elusively expressive quality to go with
its slightly less robust sound. The cover illustration is from
a wood carving which hangs in the St Jacobi church.
The programme here is an attractive mixture of Buxtehude’s
organ work, from the justly famous
Ciacona in E minor to
less frequently heard chorale preludes and variations. There may
be those among you who consider Buxtehude to something of a dull
and dry old stick, but this is one of those discs which may cause
you to revise this impression. I for one was surprised and impressed
by the inventiveness and sense of fun in the opening
Toccata
in F major, which mixes passages of free and improvisatory
music with contrapuntal sections. Masaaki Suzuki has a great time
with contrasts of registration and plenty of bouncy rhythmic interest
in the different voices. The St Nicolai section of the disc concludes
with a similarly wide ranging
Toccata in D minor, full
of drama and fantastic licks. The central work of the programme
is the substantial
Te Deum laudamus, which as with so many
of the pieces here, represents Buxtehude’s absolute mastery
of the
stylus phantasticus, here set against the
cantus
firmus of the
Te Deum verses, which are also introduced
in a remarkable variety of forms and build to a spectacular climax.
I have heard the
Ciacona on numerous occasions, so it helps
as a reference to hear how Suzuki approaches his performances.
Not overly filled with legato lines which is always a temptation,
the melodic variations are given just enough elasticity to give
the music a sense of organic flow without making it stick to the
walls like cooked spaghetti. I suppose I might prefer just a little
more of a sense of legato in the actual chaconne bass and at certain
other points, but this is a subjective point and one based on
old favourites which are helped by the glue of longer reverberation.
For the instrument and environment recorded here, this is less
of a ‘grand organ’ and more a chamber music rendition,
which is entirely appropriate.
The two back to back versions of
Von Gott wil ich nicht lassen
serve as a lesson in how great Buxtehude’s range is in these
kinds of chorale preludes. The first version is a fairly simple
arrangement, with the melody in a
vox humana tremulant
treble, and some development in its nicely slow moving harmonisation.
The livelier second version turns everything upside down, with
the melody only really recognisable when introduced in the pedal,
and plenty of chromatic surprises thrown in for good measure.
Moving to the Wilde-Schnitger organ, the first thing one hears
is the mildly disconcerting knocking of the rotating Tremulant,
which ceases 2:33 into
Nim voir uns, Herr, Du treuer Gott.
The rather gargly register which follows on makes one realise
why the majority of these recordings were made on the other instrument.
This organ, restored in 1980-82, certainly has an individual character,
and this is explored further and to admittedly richer effect in
the cycle of chorale variations which complete the piece. Gorgeously
throaty pedal tones are brought out in
Ich ruf zu Dir, Herr
Jesu Christ, and the entire disc concludes with some more
wild invention in the
Magnificat Primi Toni. The depth
of sonority is less on this instrument, with some flattening of
the sound when everything is going on at once when compared with
the Altenbruch organ, apparently a side effect of the acoustic
rather than a quality in the recording. This is however still
a fascinating close-up listen to a remarkably authentic and unspoilt
period organ, and the
Magnificat is a suitably rousing
‘song of praise to Mary’ with which to end the programme.
This is a CD which delivers more than the rather ‘period
specialist’ impression you might have from the authentic
instruments and somewhat dry looking programme. I like Suzuki’s
touch in these pieces, and certainly appreciate the effective
work which has clearly gone into a sensitive and musically satisfying
registration, both within pieces and in the sense of contrast
over the duration of the recital. Bis’s recording is close
and detailed, but the instruments are in general notably free
of mechanical noise, and the respective acoustic environments
in which these magnificent instruments are housed are clearly
reproduced, especially in SACD surround, which as usual connects
the listener to the space in a far greater physical sense and
provides a more accurate feel of the spread of the pipes and registers.
For Baroque organ buffs and Buxtehude fans I would say this is
definitely one for the short-shortlist.
Dominy Clements
Masaaki Suzuki (organ) 
[68:48] 
