Here is Wolfgang with that tremendously modulatory coda of B.W.V. 671. And
here is André with the same.
For more information please refer to reply 601. Which man we wonder makes stand up more (if any) hair on the backs of Members' necks?
Well we have to say this: having returned from our holiday we purposefully groomed our hair with the greatest care before listening to either example. We paid particular attention to the attitude and demeanour of those short hairs along the back of our neck in order to maximise the impact upon them of Bach's final chromatic phrase (being particularly careful not to have appraised them in advance of what they were about to experience). But neither Wolfgang nor André seemed to have the slightest effect upon their senses. Indeed at that monumental 'singularity' when the Gb arrived, all our hairs had already fallen asleep! We were puzzled!
But after some examination we feel we have arrived at the explanation. Neither player seems content (as would have been natural in the normal course of events we feel) to allow the final chromatic phrase to speak its own language in its own time! Herr Rübsam, who plays the entire piece too quickly anyway, feels compelled through decency to make a great
rall before launching into the final phrase (in order then to play it at the correct
tempo that the rest of the movement should have attained but miserably failed to do so), and even then has to play it very much more slowly than the rest of the piece. In comparison Monsieur Isoir, despite having adopted a much more sensible (and slower!)
Alla breve throughout, is also compelled to signal
well in advance the impending "unexpectedness" of the final phrase and its insane chromatics - thereby completely destroying any illusion and surprise that its composer had attempted to create. But we should not be too surprised should we?...
Herr Rübsam studied initially with the legendary Helmut Walcha, and evidently learnt in his early years all about German Baroque music from one of its recent masters. But then, alas, he decided to reject all that and study subsequently in France with Marie-Claire Alain. We can sympathise with the dilemma this must have created - a) the French always play Bach too quickly anyway (a fact that must have troubled him from the outset), and b) that is the only way French organs can cope with Bach because the sound they make is too raucous, reedy and out-of-tune to permit any player to "hang around" for too long! Gone therefore must have been those glorious and in-tune Werckmeister-style sounds, or Silbermann-tuned crystal-clear harmonies needed to sustain even the long-held D-minor chord of the infamous Toccata BWV 565.
It all had to be short and sharp in the interests of sanity (even though the French were probably quite proud of their notorious out-of-tune reeds).
Things do not get much better with Monsieur Isoir either! Not only did he actually study his Bach playing in France, but he actually
WAS French by nationality! To his credit, however, we note that he respects the German Baroque sense of
Alla breve and paces the movement appropriately. But then what happens?............! At the moment when he is to mark his greatest triumph he
snatches defeat from the jaws of victory! That final plainsong strain in the pedals is delivered at about HALF the speed of the rest of the movement, and the chromatic harmonies that accompany it turn into something resembling a nightmare of César Franckian proportions! "During which century was this piece composed?" we cry!
There is nothing in the original engraving to suggest that the
tempo should be anything other than
Alla breve, and certainly nothing that in any way indicates a wish upon Bach's part for the last phrase to be in any way played more slowly than what precedes it. Why neither player seems
pathologically capable of uttering this music in the way Bach intended it to be uttered remains a total mystery to us. But perhaps both are treating their respective audiences with a certain amount of condescension, and assuming that unless we are given sufficient
advance warning of what is to come, and it is
socked to us hard enough we might just believe that they are playing all the right notes but in the wrong order. Who knows?
Baz