The organ of the Ebersmunster Abbey Church, built in 1730 by Andreas Silbermann, is a masterpiece of the Paris-trained Saxon organ builder and one of the most beautiful organs in the world. It is one of only two almost completely
preserved instruments by Silbermann. This recording is dedicated to compositions which have a special relationship to the sound ideals of the French baroque organ-building school on the one hand and the specific compositional characteristics of French baroque music on the other.
Mario Hospach-Martini studied historical performance practice with Nikolaus Harnoncourt as well as organ with Stefan Johannes Bleicher and Michael Kapsner. He concertizes internationally, including at Westminster Abbey in London, St. Thomas Church in New York, in Prague, Budapest and the cathedrals
in Strasbourg, Zurich, Bamberg, Nuremberg, Ulm, Freiburg, Potsdam, Magdeburg, Cologne and Leipzig.
The Andreas Silbermann Organ
at Ebersmunster
Mario Hospach-Martini
Blow · Purcell · Böhm · de Grigny · J.S. Bach
Almost all of the works presented here, performed on an organ built by Andreas Silbermann in Ebersmünster in 1730, have a special relationship to the sound ideals of the French baroque organ-building school on the one hand and the specific compositional characteristics of French baroque music on the other. In the case of Nicolas de Grigny (1672–1703) there is no need for further explanation.
As one of those exceptional French baroque composers who created an optimum symbiosis between their compositional styles and the sound possibilities of their organs, his hymn Veni Creator Spiritust fits wonderfully on an instrument with this disposition.
English organ-builders, however, also oriented themselves faithfully to the precepts of the French baroque organ-building school until well into the 19th century. The larger English organs showed the typical structure of French instruments of the time: „Chair“, „Choir“ („Positiv“, „Rückpositiv”),
“Great” (“Grand Orgue”, “Hauptwerk”) and “Swell” (“Récit”, “Oberwerk”). As early as 1695 (the year of Henry Purcell‘s death), such an instrument
can be found in St. Paul‘s cathedral in London.
The decisive reason for this French influence becomes apparent when examining England‘s political situation at the time. When Puritanism – a form of rigorous Protestantism – was raging in England, most of the country‘s organs were destroyed.
Many English organ-builders saw themselves
forced to leave their home country to seek their fortunes in France, where they obtained decisive impulses for their craft. Some English builders returned to their homeland after 1660 (the Restoration of the Monarchy) and created instruments
that were closely related to French organs, both in regard to how they were built as well as in their sound. Unfortunately, no English instruments from this time have come down to us completely intact. Henry Purcell (1659–1695) and John Blow (1649–1708) would have certainly had great pleasure
performing on such an excellent instrument as the Silbermann organ in Ebersmünster.
Johann Sebastian Bach (1685–1750) had a special relationship to the works of de Grigny. During Bach‘s years as a student at the St. Michaeli school in Lüneburg (around 1700), he copied de Grigny’s music into his own notebooks, which he often had at hand when composing. This influence is extremely clear in Bach‘s Fantasia in C Minor BWV 562. It is no coincidence that the beginning motive of the five-voice Fantasia, from which the entire piece‘s structure develops, can also be found in de Grigny‘s likewise five-voice fugue. One could say that the chorale prelude An Wasserflüssen
Babylon was Bach’s way of writing a French “tierce en taille”.
Georg Böhm’s (1661–1733) partita on Freu dich sehr, o meine Seele is superbly suited to showing off various stop combinations of the Silbermann
organ, and as typical “Clavier music”, it is not bound to a particular keyboard instrument,
and thus not to a specific type of organ.
The Andreas Silbermann Organ
in Ebersmünster (1730)
The former Abbey Church in Ebersmünster has an exceptional Andreas Silbermann organ, which in addition to the organ in Marmoutier
is the only instrument of Silbermann’s which is nearly completely preserved. It was built from 1730–1732, and is considered with reason one of the masterpieces of the Saxon organ-builder trained in Paris.
Neither history nor clumsy, minor renovations
during the 19th century were able to do major damage to the Ebersmünster organ. It is also fortunate that changing tastes throughout
the ages passed this organ by, primarily because the small village where it is located never had enough funds to alter it. The instrument
has thus come down to us almost in its original state. After two centuries, however, it did require thorough repairs. It was renovated between 1997 and 1999 with great historic knowledge and sensitivity by Alsatian organ builders Gaston Kern, Yves Koenig and Richard
Dott. They are to thank for the fact that we can hear and play an organ in Ebersmünster that is one of the most beautiful instruments in the world.
The Works
At the time, no one would have considered it possible that John Blow (1649–1708), after giving up his post as organist of Westminster
Abbey in London to his student and friend Henry Purcell (1659–1695) in 1680, would again hold this position 15 years later due to Purcell’s untimely death. Both composed
in strict counterpoint; their music
amazes the listener above all due to its exceptionally
biting – for our ears, possibly even irritating
– dissonances. Not only in this respect is the Chacony in g by Henry Purcell a model as well as absolute masterpiece. Purcell originally
wrote the Chacony for string ensemble. Unfortunately, Purcell left us few organ works, although for the longest part of his life – 16 years – he was an organist. This may have to do with the fact that church services of the time primarily required improvised music. But I thus consider it legitimate to perform this astonishing work on the organ, especially because
it can be transferred to the organ with no changes, as if it had been conceived for this instrument in the first place. The range of the upper voices reaches to high c‘‘‘, i.e. the uppermost tones found on the conventional baroque organ. Did Purcell possibly play it himself on the organ in Westminster Abbey? It is well known that composers of the time had absolutely no problem with the transferring of their pieces to other instruments; a situation which reached far into the 19th century. The Chacony is built over an ostinato (a repeating
eight-measure theme) that unites with the other voices to create truly flagrant harmonic and melodic combinations. The „Grounds“ as well is among the most well loved genres of the time; especially Blow and Purcell wrote many such magical pieces. They consist of an ostinato bass or harmonic progression over which melodic variations unfold. Here, the solos are played on another manual and tone color as the accompanying voices.
We unfortunately know very little about composer Georg Böhm (1661–1733). He was born in Hohenkirchen, near Ohrdruf, Thuringia, attended the University of Jena and moved to Hamburg without receiving a post. Finally, in 1698, he was appointed organist in the church of St. Johannis in Lüneburg, where he remained
until his death in 1733. It can be presumed
with certainty that the young Johann Sebastian Bach, during his Lüneburg period, was in contact with Böhm. Whether Bach only listened to the great Böhm’s organ playing or actually managed to play for him as well must remain within the realm of fantasy; in numerous
of Bach’s works, especially his chorale partitas, however, the musical proximity is more concrete. Böhm’s chorale partitas were widely disseminated at the time and primarily
served religious and musical edification at home. The clavichord was highly esteemed for music in German households and could be found in many a „chamber“. This is also the reason for Böhm’s intimate, in the truest sense of the word chamber-musical compositional style. Freu dich sehr, o meine Seele is Böhm’s most extensive chorale partita, and includes an amazing wealth of inventiveness in the individual
variations.
Nicolas de Grigny (1672–1703), like Henry Purcell, died far too young. De Grigny, born into a family of musicians, was cathedral organist in Reims from the age of 25 on; Purcell was organist at Westminster Abbey at 21. Despite very short lifetimes, both composers created works which remain without a doubt among the most exceptional in their respective styles. Veni Creator Spiritus begins with a festive, brilliant
five-voice section in plenum and mixtur; the hymn is heard in long note values in the tenor, which is played on the pedal. The theme of the following five-voice fugue is taken from the beginning of the second chorale line. The stops are prescribed by the composers: Cornet for the right hand, Cromorne for the left; the bass is played with eight-foot pedal register. In the following movements, the chorale theme almost disappears. We hear the breathtaking beauty of Andreas Silbermann‘s Cornet register
in the concertante duo, where the left hand uses a sixteen-foot registration, i.e. a large foundation of sound. After the calm, contemplative
Récit de Cromorne, the piece ends with a virtuosic dialog in Zungenplenum. Here, in the Récit de Cromorne, the title – as customary for most French organ works of this time – refers to how the sound is intended to be realized, i.e. the right-hand solo is to be played with the Cromorne
on the “Positiv” (Rückpositiv). In the final
movement as well, the registration is named in the movement‘s title: Dialogue sur les grands Jeux. This demonstrates how closely the performance
of French organ music of this time, like hardly any other, is linked to a specific type of instrument and the characteristic sounds associated
with it.
John Blow (1649–1708) left us with circa thirty Organ Voluntaries, making it even more difficult to answer the question why Purcell notated so little organ music, disregarding the two men‘s highly disparate lifespans. Purcell dedicated himself much more to stage music, even though he was employed as an organist for the longest time. Blow wrote Voluntaries „for single organ“ (one-manual organ) as well as „for double organ“ (two-manual organ). Similar to de Grigny‘s music, the titles of some of his pieces show that they require a certain
color. One such work can be found here, the Cornet Voluntary in d. While this piece tends to be sad and melancholy (although with concertante
passages), the two other pieces, the Voluntary in A and Voluntary in D, are jovial and dancelike.
Earlier, I discussed the French influences on the two works by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685–1750) that conclude this CD. In both the chorale prelude An Wasserflüssen BabylonBWV
653 as well as the Fantasia in C Minor BWV 562, the fugue has only come down to us as a fragment. The two pieces were probably written around 1708 during Bach’s Weimar period.
Like most of the so-called „Eighteen Chorales“,
Bach subjected this chorale prelude to revision when he was in Leipzig. I have chosen the „final version“ from this Leipzig period. The entire piece is full of rhythmic displacement, so-called hemiolas, and avoids clear cadences - a masterly use of musical means to symbolize
the „rivers“. To do justice to the majesty and power of this piece, I play the Fantasia in C Minor
using the organ‘s plenum.
Mario Hospach-Martini
Translation: Elizabeth Gahbler