Not more Widor, I hear you groan. Well, at least it’s not the Organ Symphony 
      No. 5, with its overplayed Toccata battering your eardrums and 
      driving out your neighbours. No, this is the second volume in Alba’s Historic 
      Organs series featuring that fine Finn Jan Lehtola, whose Mendelssohn recital 
      I welcomed so warmly last year (review) 
      and whose BIS recording of Aho’s organ works was my Download of the Month 
      (review). 
      As if that weren’t enough I have his 4-CD Fuga set of Paavo Heininen’s organ 
      music awaiting review. Regular readers will know how much I admire Fuga’s 
      class-leading efforts in the genre, and they will be pleased to hear the 
      redoubtable Mika Koivusalo is behind these Alba SACDs as well.
       
      Apart from being a splendid example of the marque, the Cavaillé-Coll in 
      the Church of St François-de-Sales, Lyon – consecrated in 1880 – is remarkable 
      for the fact that it has remained essentially unchanged since then. Aristide’s 
      ‘symphonic’ instrument is credited with reviving French organ music in the 
      19th century, and Franck and Widor were quick to exploit its 
      potential. The latter’s first four Symphonies pour orgue show him 
      in his formative, exploratory years, while the remaining six reveal his 
      complete mastery of the form.
       
      The Prélude of No. 3 certainly pushes at the boundaries of what 
      was possible at the time, with its translucent upper reaches, vast, rolling 
      tunes and discreet but powerful pedals. As always with Lehtola the music 
      advances without self-serving intervention or idiosyncrasy, and his judgements 
      of pace and scale are impeccable. The warm, spacious yet finely detailed 
      recording is as good as it gets, and the building’s acoustic ‘signature’ 
      is retained without obvious manipulation or extraneous effects. In other 
      words we hear a natural, well-balanced sound and a perfectly pitched performance. 
      The turn-on-a-sixpence Minuetto is astonishing – the beast tamed, 
      as it were – and the instrument’s dark, woody character comes across well 
      in those light, filigreed tunes.
       
      Even when the beast is unleashed – in the monumental Marcia, 
      for instance – there’s no sense of overload, musically or technically, and 
      the telling inner detail of Widor’s score shines through at every turn. 
      What a fine instrument this is, and how it seems we are there, pinned in 
      a pew and awed by the panoply of sound. I say awed rather than cowed, the 
      latter an adjective often appended to run-of-the-mill organ recordings for 
      all the wrong reasons, most of them to do with excruciating sonics. Lehtola’s 
      glowing Adagio, as plangently executed as one could wish, is yet 
      another gem in a beautifully jewelled crown. As for the wont-to-wander Allegro 
      molto, Lehtola maintains just the right degree of momentum and interest 
      throughout.
       
      I can’t recall a more persuasive account of No. 3 than this, or a more perfect 
      marriage of musicianship and recording technology. In the early days of 
      digital audio critics spoke of a veil being lifted from the music; with 
      hindsight that seems a little fanciful, but the very best Super Audio recordings 
      – of which this is one – really do achieve that blissful state. Happily, 
      the Red Book layer is also excellent; indeed, that suggests as much care 
      is lavished on the vanilla mix as on the more exotic ones, which isn’t always 
      the case on other labels.
       
      Back to the music, and to Organ Symphony No. 8; one of the longest – Widor 
      later removed the Prélude – it’s heard less often than others in 
      the Op. 42 ‘suite’. Listening to the latter it’s hard to understand why, 
      for the tireless alchemy that began with the earlier symphonies produces 
      gold at last. That’s not to suggest that the Op. 13 pieces are leaden – 
      although they can easily be made to sound that way – but that an assay of 
      Op. 42 reveals just how far Widor had come in a relatively short space of 
      time.
       
      The clarity of utterance and enhanced mobility of No. 8 are evident from 
      the Allegro risoluto. Lehtola articulates this movement superbly, 
      and I doubt you’ll hear the soft, punctuating bass of the Moderato cantabile 
      better done. The airy upper registers are just as appealing – Lehtola phrases 
      with unrivalled sensitivity here – and the range of colours he coaxes from 
      this instrument is just exquisite. Played like this, without a hint of bombast 
      or prolixity, the symphony sounds fresh and vital. Even the Allegro 
      and Variations have renewed energy and bounce.
       
      There’s no sign of the fatigue-inducing ‘wall of sound’ we hear all too 
      often in lesser organ recordings. In fact all the big moments blossom without 
      effort or loss of focus. Again it’s the Adagio that’s most captivating. 
      Refined and reposeful, Lehtola invests this movement with a rare, statuesque 
      beauty that will take your breath away. As for the sparkling garland of 
      notes that appears to emanate from the empyrean above, it’s simply magical. 
      The muscular Finale is taut and purposeful, and Lehtola builds 
      powerful, resounding climaxes that never seem overwhelming or rhetorical.
       
      I will be interested to hear Joseph Nolan’s take on these two works. He 
      has yet to record them as part of his cycle for Signum. Dominy Clements 
      certainly rates him (review). 
      Then there’s the admirable Hans Fagius on BIS. His recordings of No. 3 and 
      No. 8 (BIS-CD-471 and 1007 respectively) are played on the Åkerman & 
      Lund instruments in Katarinakyrkan, Stockholm, and Helsinki’s Kallio Church. 
      He shapes and scales these works with great skill. The spacious, tactile 
      recordings are excellent too. However, for uncommon levels of insight and 
      intuition Lehtola must be the man to beat.
       
      Any caveats? No musical ones, although I do find Alba’s booklets somewhat 
      drab and uninspiring. That’s a criticism that certainly doesn’t apply to 
      the superior music-making and front-rank sonics of their SACDs. Then again, 
      it’s the performances and the recording that really matter, and on that 
      score this disc is a resounding success.
       
      In a word: bliss.
       
      Dan Morgan
      http://twitter.com/mahlerei
       
      A resounding success. In a word: bliss.
    
       
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