March 11: Organ Landscapes #7; Jörg Holubek, Organ

You can't strap an organ on your back.

How should contemporary artists interpret works that have been pored over for centuries, while avoiding mimicry, shtick, or hackiness? No disco backbeats, please. (At least in this context.) In 2000, Edgar Meyer recorded Bach’s solo cello suites on bass, which I think turned out great. Years ago, I was seated at a wedding next to a bassist from the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra, who did not share this opinion, say no more. De gustibus non est disputandum, I guess.

The organ provides a good medium for personal interpretation, since each instrument is unique to its space, each sound imbued with its characteristic resonances reflecting centuries of artistry from craftsmen, technicians, scholars, and architects. Organists interpret compositions and instruments together more than perhaps any other musician. Rehearsal logistics must create a second level of challenge, compared to a cellist who may have been working in her home with her own instrument for decades.

For the Berlin Classics label, the German organist Jörg Halubek has been recording the complete organ works of Bach on a curated series of organs throughout Western Europe, including those in rooms where Bach himself played. He has endearingly titled each albums by geography. I find his playing airy and refined, not too much flash, never too solemn. The recordings sound great too — if you’re jonesing to go full spectrum immersive organ with a good pair of headphones, this is your chance. Jörg’s Organ Landscapes project has its own website, including VR elements for the kids these days.

The volume I’ll write about today was released a few weeks ago, and is subtitled 50°50'03.5"N 10°56'46.1"E, for the geographic marker of the Bach Church in Arnstadt, Germany, where JSB held his first organ position. (Look inside it on Google Maps.) The organ has been rebuilt since then, but what a thrill this must have been for Jörg to record in the same room. (Two other 18th century organs from Saxony are also featured.)

The works on these discs are: BWV 536, 732, 729, 738, 571, 700, 547b, 724e, 742, 992, 543, 1097, 1091, 579,, 1120, 722, 1112, 946, 1113, 533, 541, 1107, 1119, 1094, 545, 726, 714, 721, 561. (Apple Music, Youtube, Spotify). Highlights below:

In honor of the late Richard Lewis: This, from the Prelude of BWV 543, is the “pedal tone from hell”, almost a full a minute of ‘fhwwwaaaahnnn’:

The Fantasia of BWV 571 has a restrained nobility. This is a good example of the airiness of Halubek’s playing, and not just because it’s in the high register:

The melody and harmonic progression of the Capriccio BWV 992 is reminiscent of pop songwriting — I can hear someone like Ron Sexsmith covering this tune:

If you dig Philip Glass, check out BWV 721. This sort of insistent pulse of quarter notes I haven’t heard before in Bach:

Bach breaks out the foghorns for the opening of BWV 561, an almost comic lowness:

I’ll conclude with my favorite piece from this collection, BWV 714. Whenever you think you’re going to be granted relief and resolution, the piece takes another turn, a metaphor for life itself.