Froberger : organiste de l’Empereur - Lionel Desmeules

Johann Jacob FROBERGER: Toccata II in D Minor, FbWV 102 – Canzona II in G Minor, FbWV 302 – Toccata XX in A Minor, FbWV 120 – Ricercar VII in D Minor, FbWV 407 – Capriccio XVI in F Major, FbWV 516 – Fantasia I sopra Ut-Re-Mi-Fa-Sol-La, FbWV 201 – Canzona V in C Major, FbWV 305 – Toccata XI in E Minor, FbWV 111 – Fantasia IV sopra Sol-La-Re, FbWV 204 – Capriccio VI in C Major, FbWV 506 – Toccata XVI in C Major, FbWV 116.

Lionel Desmeules, Organ.

Biography

Lionel Desmeules is a musician who embraces paradox. Coming from the accordion, he moved on to the organ, not without a detour through the violin, before turning to the harpsichord and then the clavichord… and even a little piano, as circumstances required.

To make a living, he sings and dabbles in conducting. In the solitude of alcoves, he devotes himself more and more to composition, which he has practised since childhood. He finds in silence, broken only by the scratching of a pen on paper, the rest necessary for his well-being.

The music

Aside from a few vocal pieces, Johann Jakob Froberger’s work is divided into two categories: on the one hand, pieces of French inspiration, usually played on the harpsichord, and on the other, pieces of Italian inspiration, performed on both the harpsichord and the organ. The works featured in our programme are drawn from this latter category.

Our aim is by no means to be exhaustive—although it so happens that every musical form explored by the composer is represented here—but rather to admire each piece as a work in itself. The whole programme is also a coherent entity. Rather than describing every detail, we are invited to traverse the programme as though it were a path through a mountain landscape… a monticidium Frobergeri. Let us take up our Alpenstock and set out.

Everything begins with the luminous Toccata in D, FbWV 102. It follows the typical structure of the toccatas Froberger encountered during his stays in Rome. One of the composer’s charming quirks is the unmarked notation of the battuta allegra. At its heart, the piece resembles a magnificent oak tree sculpted by time.

Two more extravagant works follow. The Canzona in G, FbWV 302, while moving away from the Canzona alla francese—whose subject traditionally derives from the French decasyllabic verse—introduces chromatic writing from its very first section. The Toccata in A, FbWV 120 extends the preceding Canzona by enclosing its extravagances within a grave form. The second fugued section leads the listener into a maze of branches and leaves stirred by the wind. Around the oak’s trunk, ivy has entwined itself.

After this astonishing triptych, the more rigorous forms of the Ricercar in D, FbWV 407, and the Capriccio in F, FbWV 516 bring us back to a kind of tranquillity. The path remains luxuriant, but its direction is clear. Girolamo Frescobaldi had indeed found a student worthy of his teaching.

Now comes the showpiece: the great Fantasia in C sopra Ut Re Mi Fa Sol La, FbWV 201. The vegetation becomes less dense, the sun shines more brightly, and the road grows steeper. At the summit await a breathtaking view and the exhilaration of altitude.

Two chromatic sections, one ascending and the other descending, invite us to rest. The little Canzon in G, FbWV 305 refreshes us like a glass of Chartreuse.

The Toccata in E [for the Elevation], FbWV 111 transports us, for a brief moment, beside the cat of Saint Philip Neri, the sole witness to his master’s ecstasies before the Blessed Sacrament after the consecration during his private Mass. It is said that the saint would remain there for hours in prayer, and that the altar server had grown accustomed to quietly withdrawing.

The Fantasia in G sopra Sol La Re, FbWV 204 may be regarded as the composer’s signature, concealing the notes la–sol–fa–re–mi as a simple response to the principal subject. This little motif was doubtless suggested by his master, who himself inherited it from his predecessors—the lineage stretches all the way back to Josquin des Prez. Froberger is playful and impossible to classify: between France and Italy, between Catholicism and Protestantism, between dance forms and strict counterpoint.

The Capriccio in C, FbWV 506 begins with an entirely chromatic subject—we may have exaggerated the point a little here—first ascending and then descending. The day begins to fade and fatigue sets in. In the clouds, the last rays of sunlight create almost unreal colours. Our heads spin in a sesquialtera alquanto più allegra before the work concludes with the most charming melody of all—our favourite.

Our journey ends with the brilliant Toccata in C, FbWV 116. Here too, the lessons of the Pope’s organist have borne fruit: form, counterpoint, figuration, stravaganze, battuta allegra and peroration are all admirably balanced and integrated.

Reality catches up with us. The church bell, visible in the distance, rings for Benediction. The organist descends from the loft and, bowing before the altar, returns to the world and its vanities, murmuring words freely borrowed from Alessandro Striggio:

“Non ho meco il core, ma teco stassi in compagnia d’Amore.”

CD-1780 Booklet.pdf