MARCEL DUPRÉ
Volume 3

Intégrale des œuvres pour orgue
Complete Organ Works
Sämtliche Orgelwerke

Jeremy Filsell - Organ   www.jeremyfilsell.com

Trois Préludes & Fugues, Op.36
If the 1920s - during which he produced three colourful Symphonies, two for organ solo and one for organ and orchestra - could be described as Dupré’s ‘virtuoso years’, the next decade was marked by a distinct change of direction. The Stations of the Cross of 1931 introduced a new note of sincerity and profundity into his work, but after this did not compose very much during the 1930s - an Organ Concerto, a Poème Héroïque for organ and brass, two duets for piano and organ, and a few miniatures. As Professor of the most prestigious Organ Class in the world, much of his time in these years was taken up with teaching work, and with the writing of no less than ten academic text books. It was not until 1938, with the prospect of a world tour of Australia and the USA coming up the next year, that he began to think about another major work for organ solo, and the result was a second set of Three Preludes and Fugues, of a very different character from the first (Op.7, in Volume 1 of this series). In later life Dupré was to sum up the essence of his own artistic personality in one simple phrase: ‘In aesthetics, just as in matters of ethics and morality, nothing is worthwhile that is not achieved within the context of a strict intellectual discipline, freely embraced’, and it was in Op.36 that he first proved the truth of these words in a work of magisterial, and at first sight almost forbidding, intellectual integrity. The apparent liberty and spontaneity of the early Preludes and Fugues are now replaced by a strict academic discipline that analyses every note of the music on the page. Not only are these pieces comprehensively fingered and pedaled, they are deconstructed before our eyes with indications of every contrapuntal device in every voice, and each subject, counter-subject, key relationship, inversion, augmentation and stretto is labeled with painstaking precision.

On first acquaintance this might appear an arid exercise, but appearances can be deceptive, and familiarity reveals that the poetic, imaginative side of Dupré’s creative personality is still flourishing as strongly as ever, in spite of - or more truthfully because of - the intellectual demands of these strict fugal forms. In the 25 years that had passed since the composition of the first set of Preludes & Fugues, Dupré’s harmonic language had progressed into a new world, but in many ways Op.36 can be seen as a logical development of the technique of the earlier pieces; once again each Prelude and Fugue is conceived as a whole, a single unit with both movements exploring the same thematic material, and the new pieces are no more abstract mathematical exercises than the earlier ones - they are vital, living entities, each with its own unique personality, vividly imagined and then brought to life with minute attention to detail.

The E minor Prelude is a unique and extraordinary invention. At the start the two hands sketch a rapid tracery of demisemiquaver figuration on two flutes in the same register of the keyboard; they are both playing the same patterns in alternation, with the result that it is impossible to detect any detail in this impressionistic haze of sound - ‘pure Monet’, as Graham Steed once described it. The main theme, which also inspires all the figuration, is played in crotchets on a 4ft pedal flute, and therefore sounds in the same register as the hands. Despite the rapidity of the movement, the character of the Prelude, in the words of Dupré’s first biographer Abbé Delestre, is ‘grave and nostalgic’, and so it remains as the texture becomes ever more complex with the introduction of the Voix Celeste. Canons begin to proliferate like creepers in a forest, and ‘the voices are doubled and amplified until they form a polyphony of six parts, which loses none of its rapidity, but from which there emanates a strange charm: it is the first manifestation of the new language of Marcel Dupré... Gradually this polyphony is diluted once again, and at the end, when we hear a pedal 16ft for the first time, there are only two voices remaining: the rapid murmur, which has never ceased, and the theme, which sadly fades into the melancholy of falling night.’

The Fugue is a swiftly flowing, lightly registered trio, with the theme enlivened by a touch of syncopation; two regular counter-subjects are also used throughout. The first few notes of the subject sound as though they going to be in C minor, and this constantly disturbs the equilibrium of the basic E minor tonality, producing, when all three voices come into play, an almost polytonal effect, which is intensified by the use of mutations and soft mixtures. On the third page Dupré also introduces an added complication in the form of rhythmic transformations of the subjects from duplets into triplets, and from this point on, the constant interplay of twos against threes adds a new element of rhythmic instability. The effect is bizarre, but intriguing.

The second Prelude and Fugue is a towering contrapuntal edifice, with complete thematic identification between Prelude and Fugue, and its monumental character is reinforced by traditional ‘symphonic’ registration, with massed foundation stops enriched by the addition of mixtures and reeds. The Prelude begins with sketchy toccata figuration above a long pedal point. A strong theme enters the scene in staccato chords, and this is identified as Subject II; it soon gives way to a more lyrical idea high in the treble register, and this is Subject I. Further contrapuntal development of the two themes, with a number of canons and stretti, leads to a big climax where the themes are superimposed, and crowned by the entry of a new subject in long notes, in triple octaves - this is labeled as Counter-subject I. The climax recedes, and the semiquaver figuration which has been maintained all through the movement moves down to the pedals during the final diminuendo.

A serene development of Subject I, accompanied by Counter-subject I, opens the five-part double Fugue, Cantabile con moto. It is followed by a separate development of the more rhythmic Subject II, enlivened by the addition of Mixtures, and then in the final section the two subjects are finally combined; as intricate contrapuntal devices proliferate on all sides, the volume steadily increases, building up to a final resolution that never fails to make the most powerful effect.

The C major Prelude and Fugue is more relaxed than the other two, and its theme could hardly be more straightforward - it is simply the major triad. The prelude has a strongly evocative atmosphere, typical of so much of Dupré’s later music, serene but troubled, magical but mysterious.... At the start the theme goes almost unnoticed on the pedals, while the soft manual parts trace dense chromatic lines; the two hands, with two voices each, are on different manuals, but they are both creeping around in the same register of the keyboard. The theme soars into the treble where it sings out in a plaintive appeal on a solo flute, to be answered by a new theme, a halting sequence of rising chords in a kind of fragmented canon between the hands. These ideas are developed throughout the Prelude, the solo flute later blossoming into two contrapuntal parts, which are finally superimposed on the mysterious rising chords.

From the shadows of this evocative prelude, we emerge into bright sunlight in the Fugue, whose subject transforms the major triad into a vibrant staccato fanfare. Of fearsome technical difficulty and unflagging dynamic energy, it proceeds to a dazzling conclusion, superimposing the fanfares on a breathless stream of pedal scales and ending in an explosion of full C major chords bouncing from the bottom to the top of the keyboard.

Inventions, Op. 50, Book 2
In 1954 Dupré gave up the Organ Class at the Paris Conservatoire after 28 years, and agreed to take on the position of Director for a term of two years, until he reached official retirement age in 1956. These two years were not happy ones (‘a preview of Purgatory’), and the thankless and time-consuming administrative work left little time for his own playing and composition; the only work that he was able to complete during this period was a remarkable set of 24 Inventions. Like the Op.36 Preludes and Fugues, but on a miniature scale, this work provides another superb illustration of the inspiration which Dupré could always find in the embrace of a strict intellectual discipline; craftsmanship and poetry combine in perfect harmony in each of these short pieces. Mostly restricted to two pages, and to three or four voices, they are all fingered and pedaled, emphasising their practical value for the student, but many of them are by no means unduly difficult, and the emphasis is far more on the compositional side, as Dupré displays unerring resource and imagination in the art of motivic contrapuntal development - ‘invention’ in the way that Bach understood it. There is one piece in every major and minor key, and each has its own unique mood, texture, theme and registration, often using single stops - there are only two loud pieces in the whole set. The title Inventions inevitably recalls the Inventions and Sinfonias of Bach himself, and Bach’s Title Page for those works is also perfectly applicable to Dupré: ‘Upright instruction, wherein the lovers of the clavier, and especially those desirous of learning, are shown a clear way...to learn to play clearly in two....and three obbligato parts; furthermore, at the same time not alone to have good inventiones (ideas), but to develop the same well, and above all to arrive at a cantabile style in playing and at the same time to acquire a strong foretaste of composition.’

The 24 Inventions were published in two books of 12, the first of which has already appeared in Volume 1 of this series. Like the first book, the second includes a wide range of different styles and textures. There are two scherzi - the first piece, No.13, with its bubbling repeated notes, and No.20, with its rhythmic pedal figure, like the beating of a tiny drum - and several contrapuntal movements - lively neoclassical trios in Nos. 14 and 23, a sturdy Germanic fugue in No.18, and more expressive, cantabile fugues in No.16 and in the nostalgic final piece (No.24), a plaintive fughetta for oboe and flute. The remaining five Inventions are richly expressive slow movements, exploring a variety of more overtly romantic styles, including a soaring meditation for flutes in No.22 and a tender chordal meditation for strings in No.19; these two pieces, and the gentle undulations of the serene Cantabile in E major (No.15), perfectly illustrate the exquisite refinement of Dupré’s mature harmonic language, in its purest form.

Trois Hymnes, Op.58
Liturgical music forms a significant and still relatively little-known part of Dupré’s output; containing some of the most charming and easily accessible music of his later years, the Three Hymns of 1963 were his last liturgical works of any substance. The themes of each of the three pieces have a strong modal flavour, but they appear to be original - or at any rate they have not yet been publicly identified.

Aptly described by Dupré’s protégé and successor Rolande Falcinelli as ‘fresh as a spring morning’, Matines takes the form of a theme and variations; the theme is presented on a solo flute with a sparse accompaniment.

Var. 1: the separate solo phrases of the theme alternate with gliding chains of common chords in unusual juxtapositions, in a style that recalls the music of another of Dupré’s pupils, Jehan Alain.
Var.2 : a delicate duo, with the theme on a 4ft pedal flute, surrounded by a garland of piquant figuration on Bourdon and Tierce.
Var. 3: the theme is in long notes in the pedal, as the bass of this tranquil meditation for flute and strings.
Var. 4: a sparkling trio in staccato triplets, with the theme broken up in the pedal.
Var. 5: a meditative paraphrase of the theme, densely scored for the penetrating tone of the Vox Humana, with drone-like double pedal.
Var. 6: the finale begins with a lumbering staccato trio with chromatic alterations of the theme. This builds up to a powerful tutti statement of the tune, accompanied once again by chains of unrelated common chords, and immediately succeeded by a softer harmonisation that finally fades away into silence.

Vesper is a gentle evening prayer; the theme passes from a flute in the treble to a cello on the pedal, then, lightly decorated, to a soft trumpet, and finally back to the flute.