Serenity of purpose and meticulous craftsmanship define this publication, which bears witness to a profound assimilation of a musical heritage – the languages of the organ tradition – and to that relationship between “song and organ” that has quenched the thirst of Catholic liturgical and devotional music for centuries. It is almost a voice of hope rising above the linguistic conventions of the sparse and unremarkable musical production for para-liturgical actions or simply, concerts, by contemporary composers and/or organists. The “thread of time” evoked in the title represents the journey from medieval Christian chant to the daring sounds of the French school of the 20th century, which, over the course of the century, undertook a complete rediscovery of the Gregorian repertoire.
In the selection of pieces, done with particular discernment, Gregorian themes of venerable memory, known also to the average faithful, have been favoured. This approach welcomes all those who, even out of curiosity, wish to approach an unusual, sometimes perhaps quirky, unpredictable organ repertoire; a repertoire always supported by familiar Gregorian incipits. Liturgical aspects have not been overlooked in the selection, also reflecting on the fact that the organ has been and still is the quintessential “sacred” instrument, the one most used over the centuries. Furthermore, almost all of the organ music recorded here was created in the shadow of churches.
The performance was carried out on the Stahlhuth/Jann organ of St. Martin’s Church in Dudelange, Luxembourg, an instrument that perfectly combines neo-Baroque aesthetics with romantic-symphonic ones. Throughout history, many composers have tried their hand at writing an organ piece based on Gregorian melodies as its thematic source. Duruflé is one who “faithfully” refers to the Gregorian chant adopted by the Benedictine monks of Solesmes. He consistently enacts his idea of bringing together the ancient world, with its Gregorian melodies – perfectly in tune with the directives of the Motu Proprio of 1903 by Pius X. For these reasons, the elements of the chant from which the thematic material derives are to be considered before starting the analysis of the organ work. The hymn Veni Creator Spiritus, attributed to Rabanus, a German theologian of the 8th century, is prescribed by the Roman ritual in various ecclesiastical ceremonies, including the Mass of the Feast of Pentecost. The Gregorian melody becomes the soul of his “Prélude, Adagio et Choral varié sur le thème du «Veni Creator»”, Op. 4, (the first of his three major works for organ). From the outset, Duruflé creates interest and astonishment in the listener, weaving a delicate web of sounds based on the opening phrase of the Gregorian chant melody cleverly interspersed with the fluttering figure of the triplet. Also worth noting is the Adagio which begins in G minor, unexpectedly arriving to G major before plunging into the key of B-flat minor. Here a profound mood gradually assumes greater prominence; the music becomes increasingly chromatic and the transition from the opening adagio to the climax is reached in an extremely fluid manner. The Chorale follows seamlessly, presenting the theme in the form of a Lutheran chorale; the variations follow one another with very different characters, up to the fourth and last variation, a brilliant toccata employing the theme as a canon between the right hand and the pedalboard. The music concludes gloriously, but the composer has still a masterstroke to reveal. In the coda, marked ‘tempo poco più vivo’, he presents the plainchant “Amen” (until then only hinted at) in the organ’s pedalboard.
A language freer from classical schemas is present, albeit in an almost ethereal setting, in the Ave verum corpus by the Lebanese, naturalized French, composer and organist, Naji Hakim, one of the most famous musicians on the international scene. It is a meditation on the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, connected to the meaning of redemptive suffering in the life of all believers. But, listening to it, suffering is almost absent. Only beauty exists. This piece is part of a longer composition for organ by the suggestive title of “Esquisses Grégoriennes”. With a suitable choice of registration, this ensures that the music “sparkles and shines”: it also sounds gloriously in the announcement of Resurrection entrusted to the famous Gregorian hymn O Filii et Filiae, played as an ‘Allegro con fuoco’ by the full power of the organ, the fifth and last piece of the aforementioned work.
Gregorian chant, then, together with modality, with a compositional style rich in counterpoint and modern harmonies, originality, strength, and aesthetic and expressive beauty, offer composers, and consequently, performers, an opportunity for musical interpretation and a profoundly sensitive rhythmic freedom. This translates into a natural and deeply flowing stream of music, always connected to the lyrics. The mere reading of the scores of Jean Langlais, “Trois Paraphrases Grégoriennes”, suffices to bear witness of this. The mysterious and solemn organ piece Mors et Resurrectio – based on the First Letter of St. Paul to the Corinthians “O death, where is thy sting?”, the subtitle of this work – is a journey that takes us from the pain of death to the glory of resurrection. The entire Biblical quote is translated as “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?”. This is the first of his three Gregorian paraphrases. It remains not only one of earliest works of his true maturity but also one of his most enduring. The composer employs two themes: the first, of his own invention, represents death and builds gradually from the depths; the second, based on the Introit of the Mass for the dead, represents life and is heard for the first time played by a trumpet stop. After a double exposition of these two ideas, the plainchant theme is elaborated more deeply and develops into an engaging pathos. Here the music has a sense of grandeur, evoking the vast and imposing spaces of a Gothic cathedral, later echoed in the third piece, the majestic Hymne d’action de grâces (commonly known as “Te Deum”). A joyful anthem of praise, an epical-sounding treatment of the 13th-century hymn, with an extended central section based on the text “In thee have I trusted”. Quite different in character is Langlais’ second Gregorian paraphrase, Ave Maria / Ave Maris Stella: the piece has a tripartite structure, whose first and last sections, permeated by a mystical aura, are built on the melody of the Ave Maria, in contrast to the central section, darker and more dissonant, based on the theme of Ave Maris Stella.
Lionel Rogg’s “Variations on the Pange Lingua” (inspired, he says, by Duruflé’s aforementioned Choral varié on the Veni Creator) encapsulate, with great and humble dignity, a musical-philological historical journey that marked the last century in this specific field. The following words, written by Rogg himself, not only bear witness to the beauty of musical art but also relieve the intellectual labors of anyone wishing to engage with this type of organ literature, and virtually bridge (or rather, a challenge) to new generations: “This piece is part of a set of compositions that almost present themselves as ‘models for improvisation.’ During my improvisation lessons at the Royal Academy of Music in London, during the summer seminars, I happened to rework some ideas that emerged during work with the students. It would undoubtedly be very difficult to improvise in such a written way, but the formation of what had initially presented itself in a relatively spontaneous way shows the very strong link that can exist between improvisation and true composition, whatever the style.” Any further comment would be superfluous.
Composers at times employ indications sparsely, and give only a few hints about registration, dynamics, and agogics, intentionally leaving to the performer the responsibility to identify, in the instrument at their isposal, the best and most corresponding solutions to the ethos of the piece. Here, I can confidently affirm that I have found the full potential in the modus operandi of a musically and intellectually balanced musician who is also replete with musical sensibility, as is Alberto Brigandì. This is first and foremost observed in the musicality of his choices of sound, in his elegant, refined registration, dictated by good taste without ever resorting to strange effects. These, in summary, are the secret ingredients of his interpretative art; I would say that it follows a logic that is musical as well as musicological, dedicating attention to the needs of the author he interprets in light of the audience who will have the fortune to listen to this recording.
26th November 2023
Alberto Orio