This record arrived too late for a Christmas review. Oxonians
and others who indulged in some sort of politically correct “Festival
of Light” last December may feel January or February a good time
of year to indulge in the guilty pleasure of an interesting and
often unusual – but never “difficult” or intellectual – programme
of music inspired by the event that still remains fundamental
to the lives of many in the western world.
As
all organists – and semi-organists like myself – know, anthologies
of Christmas fare abound, and a good many pieces are common
to a lot of them. Thomas Laing-Reilly has to be congratulated
for mixing the odd drop of the familiar with more unusual byways.
Some of these latter require more resources – from both player
and instrument – than popular anthologies envisage. Furthermore,
the recital has a clear shape, with Best as a curtain-raiser,
followed by German, French and British groups, rounded off with
a peal of bells. A further binding factor is the German Christmas
chorale “Vom Himmel hoch” which dominates the German section
and returns in Garth Edmundson’s Toccata.
Since
the three national schools in question have developed very different
organ-building characteristics, such a wide ranging programme
could risk some parts sounding more authentic than others. However,
the description of the St. Cuthbert’s organ reveals that, though
the various actions undertaken since its installation in 1899
are tactfully described as “rebuilding”, it is essentially a
1997-8 Walker organ based on the more modern concept of doing
justice to all the different schools. Moreover, with its current
incumbent to play it, both organ and organist should win friends
among listeners who don’t always respond to organ music.
Even
very good organists can seem flatfooted in their rhythms, their
performances creaking around the seams of their registration
changes. We hear immediately in the W.T. Best Fantasy
that Laing-Reilly knows how to set up an orchestral-sounding
overall rhythmic pulse, with the many changes of colour coming
in like different sections of the orchestra. Non-organists often
complain that the instrument is not touch-sensitive like a piano
and therefore mechanical. Laing-Reilly has the key to those
little tricks of timing and articulation that almost convince
you that it is touch-sensitive after all. Furthermore, the acoustics
of St. Cuthbert’s Church, as recorded here, seem pretty well
ideal, with enough reverberation to sound like a church while
permitting everything to be heard with clarity.
Having
established his credentials Laing-Reilly plays his German baroque
group with due respect for the scale of the organs available
to these composers – he avoids the temptation to blast out the
pedal tune in the Pachelbel Prelude on the tuba – but
without being afraid of going over the top within these limits.
In the Bach BWV738 he makes merry with the “Cymbelstern”
– recently added to the organ on his own instructions. This
creates the effect of a continuous shower of silvery bells accompanying
the music. I thought the Reger rather a lugubrious composition
though it certainly builds up powerfully. Unfortunately, inspiration
and length in Reger often seem in inverse proportion to each
other. This one is a midway case. Moreover, the insertion of
“Stille Nacht” towards the end rather reminds us that nobody,
so far as I know, has yet managed to write a really beautiful
piece on this favourite tune.
The
earlier French items are done neatly with piquant registrations.
The d’Aquin is the “usual” one – out of twelve – and
the piece by which most people remember him, especially now
that even “Le coucou” seems to have fallen from favour. The
Cochereau is an improvisation which was recorded and
later transcribed by Jeremy Filsell. Laing-Reilly heard Cochereau
play and recalls in his notes that he was “an awe-inspiring
improviser”. We may take it that he has done everything to reproduce
the effect that he heard, and there are some fantastic colours
and effects towards the end. I’m afraid I feel about the earlier
stages rather as I do about Reger.
The
remaining French pieces are delightful, and a riot of colours,
both gentle and brilliant. We are not told if the Guilmant
is based on a real Scottish tune but it has all the features
of one. A lovely find. The Demessieux and Langlais
pieces are more in the nature of high-class doodling raised
to the level of high art by their understanding of the colours
of the instrument, flamboyantly realized by Laing-Reilly.
Ireland’s
“The Holy Boy” was originally a piano piece, of course,
but, though I am a pianist myself, I find I get more satisfaction
out of playing it in the composer’s arrangement for the organ.
I seem to be not alone in preferring a slightly more flowing
tempo, but Laing-Reilly’s treatment is long-breathed rather
than sticky and aligns the piece with the description of Ireland
– by Christopher Palmer, I think – as an “epic miniaturist”.
Going back to the Victorian age, the Somervell was originally
a piece for contralto and piano*. Laing-Reilly does not say
if this arrangement is the composer’s – maybe it’s a semi-extemporised
version of his own? The filigree accompaniment is fairly elaborate
at times but nothing of importance is omitted while the melody
always sings warmly and clearly. The result is enchanting; rather
more so, I would say, than the song in its original form. The
Hollins is perhaps too similar in mood and less interesting.
I suppose the composer’s Edinburgh connections decided his presence.
The Edmundson Toccata does everything a noisy organ toccata
should do, and Laing-Reilly has his “Cymbelstern” tinkling away
again towards the end. I could personally have done without
the bell-ringing on the last track, but those living within
earshot of St. Cuthbert’s bells will doubtless welcome the opportunity
to drive themselves mad with the things even when the real ones
are silent.
Thomas
Laing-Reilly has been Organist and Director of Music at
St. Cuthbert’s since 1999. He read music at Edinburgh University
and subsequently travelled abroad to study with Flor Peeters
and Jean Langlais. While in Paris he was able to hear such legendary
figures as Messiaen, Marchal and Cochereau. He later studied
in the USA. He has given solo recitals in the UK, France, Denmark,
Holland and the USA. He has been a lecturer at Edinburgh University
since 1995 and, to judge from his scholarly but readable notes
to this CD, he must be a good one. If he’s thinking of a sequel,
there’s plenty more Christmas music around. Italy and the USA
might get a look in next time. While, away from the Christmas
season, the name of Flor Peeters reminds us that this remarkable
musician has sometimes been named as one of the major 20th
century organ composers, almost on a par with Messiaen. The
sheer number of his works – his op. 100 alone consists of 213
choral-preludes covering the entire liturgical year – has rather
discouraged systematic investigation. So there’s plenty to look
at.
Disclaimer:
I’m not entirely convinced that the following is necessary, but
some people feel that the slightest personal connection may colour
a critic’s judgement. So I will state that Thomas Laing-Reilly
was a contemporary of mine at Edinburgh University. I remember
him quite clearly and he even played in a performance of a Dufay
Mass that I conducted. We have not been in contact during the
intervening 30-odd years. I am naturally glad that I have been
able to write in such glowing terms, but had stern duty required
a very different review I should not have hesitated. I am quite
satisfied that the only way in which these distant memories have
affected the review is that, had the organist’s name not been
known to me, I doubt if I should have requested a review copy
of a CD of Christmas organ music at all. And I should have been
the loser.
*Musicological note on Somervell. Laing-Reilly
states that the original of this piece was for baritone and
piano. I think this is unlikely. It was dedicated to “Mrs. Henschel”
who was presumably – though I don’t actually know this – the
wife of George Henschel, a baritone and a conductor. But she
was also a singer in her own right. The undated Edwin Ashdown
edition names on the cover, after the manner of the day, six
singers who performed the song. They are all ladies. Apart from
Mrs. Henschel herself, they include Miss (as she still was)
Clara Butt. The song was published in four keys (E flat, F,
G, A) with no indication of which might be the original. Even
the highest does not go above F sharp. Obviously, we know Butt
was a contralto. Such fleeting references as I can find to two
of the other ladies mentioned suggests they also had low voices.
Furthermore, the back cover of another Somervell song, published
by J.& J. Hopkinson in 1892, advertises what I presume to
be an earlier edition of “The Shepherd’s Cradle Song”. It is
described as “Dedicated to & sung by Mrs. Henschel &
all the leading Vocalists. The most successful Cradle Song of
modern times”. At this stage in its life it was published in
only the middle two of the four keys – F and G. So presumably
one of these was the original. Unless documentary evidence exists
to the contrary, then, we may fairly safely describe the song
as for contralto and piano.
Christopher
Howell
Thomas Laing-Reilly
(organ of St. Cuthbert’s Church, Edinburgh) 
