Those who think of Cape Cod only as sand dunes and salt-sea air may overlook one of the most unusual pipe organs in the world. It was only two years ago that Nelson Barden & Associates completed the restoration and expansion of a 27-year pipe organ project at the Community of Jesus, located in Orleans, MA. Barden’s masterful “surround-sound” St. Cecilia Organ organ [see our review of the dedication HERE], fills both sides of the long nave at the neo-Byzantine Church of the Transfiguration at Rock Harbor with the symphonic sounds of 11,964 pipes, dating from 1903 to 1949 and primarily from the Earnest M. Skinner Organ company.

Daniel Roth, organiste titulaire émérite de Saint-Sulpice, in his fourth visit to this Benedictine community, presided at the 150 stops of the mammoth four-manual console of the St. Cecilia Organ, in honor of Nelson Barden [read the stop list and hear some examples HERE]. Church of the Transfiguration organist James Jordan acted as page turner and registrant for most of the evening, helping Roth manage the staggering number (5.71338395644585 x 10²⁶²) of possible combinations.

Roth left us in little suspense as to the powerful, immersive effect of the instrument with his full organ opening of the Finale from Symphony VII of Charles Marie Widor. Paraphrasing a statement from Nelson Barden as to the possible emotional and spiritual impact of a pipe organ, “leather, lumber, and metal” have never sounded so good. What a hardly imaginable amalgam of melding colors at all pitches enveloped us with resonant warmth and yet with quick speech and surprising articulation. Yes, we strove to catalog the color panoply, but also felt reassured by the foundational choruses of diapason tone that underpinned all. Roth’s choice to highlight a late passage with a lone solo flute, led us to sigh almost audibly. After the fast downward scales, reminiscent of the first of Saint Saëns’s Op. 8 Duos for harmonium and piano, Roth expanded the intensity, transforming into a Widor-like toccata. The Chorale movement (normally the second of four) opened with full swell flues over a poignant pedal point on a big 16’ open diapason. Muted strings from the middle of the nave expanded the discussion.  A peculiarly haunting quint voice added its quietude to the discourse. Orchestral 16’ strings continued the dialogue; a trio ensued before vanishingly distant flutes faded as in Wagner’s Twilight of the Gods.

We know César Franck’s Prélude, fugue et variation, Op.18  from the ‘A’ version for harmonium and piano, and from conversation afterwards, and what I heard at the concert, Roth did too. Roth chose to play the simple and sweet melody line on a single oboe stop, though in climatic moments he did a great simulation of the harmonium’s Grand Jeux. He also used the swell shades to convey something of the phrasing abilities of the smaller reed instrument, and in deference to Franck’s well-known propensities, he allowed himself generous rubato. Roth did, of course expand the palette in the fugue statement, and colored the variations well, but when the intimate prelude returned at the end, we imagined being in a parlor with him.

Roth wrote that “Bach’s Fugue in A Minor BWV 904 for the harpsichord can be played on the organ by putting the bass in the pedal. It is a double fugue, with the first subject being very lyrical, and the second subject, chromatic. The two subjects are eventually combined to create a dramatic atmosphere.” In this case, after setting the pistons, Jordan left the console and allowed Roth to play with basically unchanging registration, as if not wanting to stray too far from Bach’s somewhat academic statement. The execution came across as bright, clean, rather detaché and without a great deal of expressive meddling.

Nineteenth-century English organist W. T. Best (of the Albert Hall in Sheffield, England), who ‘organized’ Mendelssohn’s Prelude and Fugue in E Minor for the piano, retained the virtuosic pianism of the original, giving Roth license to mix rapid filigree with noble melodies, recalling Mendelssohn’s Variations sérieuses. Throughout we relished the full-force fugal warfare between hands and feet, vibrated with the profound 32’ flues of the pedal. The full organ finish packed us off to share our wows with fellow organ aficionados during the brief intermission.

The entire second half exuded a distinctly French character, with an improvisational flair that was both bold and expressive. (Roth, in fact, closed with an intense yet strongly architected improvisation.)

In 1940 a German sniper tragically cut shot composer Jehan Alain’s life, but not before he had composed 143 works.  Organist Amanda Mole wrote about his Deuxième fantaisie:

One of his most well-known pieces and a favorite of his sister, Marie-Claire Alain, is the Deuxième fantaisie. The melody exudes the exotic monody of Arabian influence and should therefore be played with some freedom. It can also be noted that Jehan Alain did not like the sound of bombardes and large 16’ reeds in the pedal and the Deuxième fantaisie distinctively indicates that no independent pedal 16’s be used, even during the loudest portions of the piece. The melody is therefore present and more easily heard in the pedals at the climax of the fantasy. Alain is known also for recalling French pride with nostalgia, but within the context of a modern harmonic language, especially in his registration indications that often specify a variety of mutation stops. At the end of the Fantaisie, we hear one of the melodies on a strange combination of mutation stops, which gradually grows softer before bringing back the opening registration and theme.

With Jordan’s registrational assistance and acumen, we witnessed many combinations rather new to our ears—many through the combination of mutations and unusual string colors—all unique and unexpected. The space gleamed with the sonic equivalent of rays of sunlight. Quiet episodes gave way to a section with a penetrating narrow reed that made our hair stand up. A Tuba Mirabilis presided as if on a throne. Toccata figures swirled around almost percussive octaves in the bass…more softness like stages of grief…magisterial snarls resolved to large flutes fading to near inaudibility. Roth’s engagement and imagination were complete.

Roth wrote that he based his Finale-Te Deum on his own improvisation at the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur at the end of a ceremony in honor of Pope Saint John Paul II. He included several melodies from a Gregorian hymn of thanksgiving, including the introductory phrase, the litany melody, the three Sanctus phrases with the chamade reeds, and In te Domine speravi. Intended to “recreate the atmosphere of a festive liturgy in a great cathedral,” it certainly succeeded on Saturday night in transporting us through time and space as it blended ancient and modern. The variety of effects defies verbal description. The relentless witches’ brew evoked scary Danses macabres, Vierne’s Carillon de Westminster, the Widor Toccata, Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring, and the Doxolgy.

According to Church of the Transfiguration organist James Jordan, Roth’s improvised finale employed harmonic support from the opening four pitches of a well-known television series, (which eluded me) supporting the interweaving of two Gregorian Chants from the Mass of Pentecost Sunday:

• Introit: Wisdom of Solomon: For the Spirit of the Lord filleth the world: and that which containeth all things hath knowledge of the voice.
• Communion: Acts: And suddenly there came from heaven a sound like a mighty rushing wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting.

It opened with multiple celeste stops quietly throbbing over a soft 16’ pedal, then treble ranges in the Swell responded, sounding the ancient chant. Dialogues proceeded in learned tones as the organ built up with great emphasis before retreating once again to seamlessly flowing, delicate passages. Then solo 8’ and 4’ flutes in combination with a quiet mutation interposed another chant theme. Roth reverted to a smothered-full-swell flues plus multiple ranks of wonderfully undulating ranks of the Vox Humana. Pulling individual stops for the first time in the concert, and without ever resorting to a crescendo pedal, Roth certainly opened our ears with a sonic coloring book of organ effects infused with the incense and visual feast of a great cathedral. The master improvisor thus sent us off with a fitting, deeply considered, and not-to-be forgotten postlude.

Lee Eiseman is the publisher of the Intelligencer