Though the Poulenc
Organ Concerto has long been a personal
favourite, the real find on this disc
for me was the concluding item, Maurice
Duruflé’s Three Dances for Orchestra,
op.6, composed in 1938. I knew this
composer previously only for his sacred
music (principally the fine Requiem),
and these colourful, melodious pieces
were quite a revelation. The brilliant
orchestration brings Respighi to mind,
while the influence of Ravel and Debussy
is strong too (though, interestingly,
not that of Les Six). The first
dance has an exquisite opening, with
Daphnis-like gurgles in clarinet,
which then gives way to a brilliant
scherzo. A stately slow dance follows,
and finally a lively and slightly wild
Tambourin, with a wonderfully furtive
ending in the bassoon. The subtle writing
for percussion and the doleful alto
saxophone solo in the central section
give this movement a memorable colour.
Before that, we have
a fine and authoritative performance
of the Poulenc Organ Concerto by Marie-Claire
Alain, with sensitive contributions
from the strings and timpani of the
Bamberg Symphony Orchestra. This may
not have quite the flamboyance of the
recently re-issued EMI version, with
Maurice Duruflé as soloist (EMI
7243 5 62647 2 4 Review),
but at this bargain price, it is more
than respectable, and some listeners
may find its comparative restraint a
positive virtue. The recorded balance,
always difficult in this piece, is really
very good.
The programming of
the music on this CD is fascinating;
the Poulenc is followed by the organ
Prélude and Fugue by Duruflé,
using the name of his close friend,
Jehan (pronounced the same as ‘Jean’)
Alain, a brilliantly gifted young composer
who died heroically during the World
War 2 battle in defence of Saumur. Both
composers were pupils of Paul Dukas
(of Sorcerer’s Apprentice fame)
and Duruflé makes use of his
friend’s surname turned into a sort
of musical ‘code’, and creates a very
fine piece of music. The prelude is
a fully developed movement, starting
with mysterious rustlings, and introducing
a splendid plainsong-like melody based
on ‘Alain’. The fugue that follows is
far from ‘academic’ and is built on
a long, smooth sentence of melody heard
at the outset. It grows calmly to a
powerfully exultant conclusion; this
is a celebration of Alain’s gifts, not
a dirge or lament.
The organist is again,
of course, Jehan Alain’s sister Marie-Claire,
and the next track finds her as the
soloist in one of her brother’s works,
a brooding Sarabande for organ,
string quintet and timpani. Impressive
music, which brought
to my mind the sound-world and atmosphere
of Martinů’s Double Concerto –
the tension of the late 1930s, and the
sinister combination of timpani and
strings are no doubt responsible for
that (and form another link with the
Poulenc Concerto).
Quite a CD this, and
an absolute must for lovers of the great
world of French organ music. An imaginatively
planned programme, performed with dedication
and total accomplishment.
Gwyn Parry-Jones
Marie-Claire Alain (organ) 
