Best Pipe Organs in Paris
By Steve Fox
Since I have a particular interest in pipe organs, I asked in a pipe-organ area on the Internet for opinions on the best organs in Paris. I knew I had a few extra days, and I wanted to spend one of those days listening or at least seeing one of the great famous Paris organs. Paris at the turn of the century was a place where several great organists lived and worked, competing with each other and learning from each other. A distinctive style arose from this period. Let me quote from E Power Biggs:
The turn-of-the-century French organ music has a style of its own. It is symphonic in structure, pianistic in idiom. Agreeable melodies are developed with sweeping style and brilliance. Massive bass themes exploit pedal sonorities. Cascading figurations set the rhythm, and there is a good deal of repartee between organ manuals. To that, I would add that the music of the twenties and on of this century from French organ composers have wonderfully complex dissonance. The music often asks for a large, resonant building. The old stone cathedrals and churches fit this bill exactly.
Anyway, a man on Internet responded to my request, listing about 10 churches to visit. At the top of his list was the Grande Orgue at St. Sulpice. Daniel Roth is the current organist there. A tradition started with Widor in the 1930s, then Dupre, and carried on to this day, is to open the organ loft to visitors after the 10:30 service. Visitors can gather around and watch him play during the 12:05 service. So I went to the 10:30 Mass on Sunday. The choir sang, and Roth played various pieces during the service. After the service, he played a half-hour recital of various works, as well as an improvisation. As an encore, he played another improvisation. The organ sounded magnificent during this recital. The people who stuck around after the church service turned their chairs around (the organ is in the back) and listened intently. It was truly wonderful to hear this fabulous organ. The music he played was virtuoso music, complex and spectacular. This included the two improvisations. Afterwards, I walked to the rear of the church. Several people stood at a side door, so I figured that would be a good place to hang out in case it was true that you could go up to the loft.
Sure enough, someone came down and opened the door. About 10 of us tramped up the spiral stone staircase to the organ loft in the back of the church. At the top of the stairs, we walked through the old people-powered pumps, with encased pipes above our heads and to our right. We walked all around the pipes, turned right towards the front of the church, and another right to see the console. The console is placed in and amonst the pipes. A group of pipes is even in front of the console, so that the organist looks through an opening to see the altar.
Seated at the console was Roth. He is an average-looking man, with slightly greying hair, wears reading glasses, has thick fingers. He looks completely relaxed and confident. While playing, his hands were naturally curved and relaxed, always knowing where they were headed next. The console is very large. Roth explained that there are 102 ranks on this 5-manual organ. He said it was a historical monument — the action is completely mechanical. To reach the furthest stop pulls required Roth to bend forward a long way and barely reach them. Roth patiently answered everyone's questions, including mine. He spoke good English. I asked about the "feel" of the keyboard (I've only played organs with electric action). Even when manuals are coupled together and many stops pulled, he said it had a good touch, only slightly harder to press the keys. When keyboards are coupled together with the foot-levers, all coupled keyboards play simultaneously (you can see the other keys depressing). There are no preset buttons — you have to pull each stop individually. I moved over to his left side as others talked to him.
All this time, the service was progressing. A man signalled to Roth that it was almost time to play. He stopped talking, put on his reading glasses, and pulled the music stand closer. On it was a book of Gregorian chant tunes. He flipped forward and backward until he found one he liked. Then he fussed around with the stops, pulling and pushing, changing his mind a few times. All this time he had a very intent look on his face, unlike when we were chatting with him. The assistant signalled again, and he started playing an Offertory piece.
The piece was appropriately quiet and not fast, improvised on the chant tune. It had quite a bit of modern harmony and dissonance. His actions were calm, without a lot of flair or histronics. He never changed the registration, rather he changed manuals to vary the sound. He had a blank stare, and his mouth was open as he played. While his left foot played the pedal notes, his right manipulated the expression controls. As he pressed the keys, I could hear the pipes clicking on and off (this was not the ideal place to listen to the music — better for watching the organist!). Later, he played a recessional piece. Again he flipped around in the chant book — it took quite a while for him to find what he wanted. He hadn't changed any of the stops since the earlier piece (too busy talking with the audience again). So he surveyed the registration and, with the blank stare and open mouth, selected almost all the stops for the grand finale. Again, at a signal from an assistant, he glanced back at the book and started playing.
While the pedals played the chant theme, his hands rapidly played dissonant chords. The hands batted the chords back and forth, rising and falling in both pitch and volume. Gradually, the theme would appear in the right hand, sometimes as octaves, as the pedals played it in canon or other counterpoint style. At one point, I thought I heard the theme upside-down. The theme appeared in the left hand also, as he changed keyboards. A slight breeze was turning the page of his hymnal, so he leaned his head farther and farther to the right. A man standing on his right straightened out the book, and Roth turned is head and said thanks, not missing a beat the whole time!
He decided the registration wasn't quite right part-way through. So he held down a note, and fooled with pushing and pulling stops for a short while. Then he continued the complex dissonent chords, rapidly bouncing, mostly with the left hand. (This musical style reminds me of pointillist art). At the end it all came to a triumphant dissonant chord. He held the pedal note down and slowly played this penultimate chord. On, off, on, off went the hands. Finally, thankfully, he resolved the work with the climax full-organ harmonic chord, holding it for a long time. He lifted his hands and feet, and the reverberations continued for several seconds as the chord died out. Incredible!
This article was contributed by Steve Fox. You can read more about his trip to Europe at his site.