Symphonie concertante for organ and orchestra Op.81

The Symphonie concertante was written for what was then - and probably still is - the biggest organ in the world. Built originally for the St Louis World’s Fair in 1904, it was bought by John Wanamaker for his famous department store in Philadelphia, where it was installed in the Grand Court in 1911 and enlarged over the years to its present extraordinary specification of six manuals, 447 ranks and 28,000 pipes. It hadn’t achieved quite that magnitude of grandeur in 1926, when Rodman Wanamaker commissioned the Belgian organist-composer Joseph Jongen to provide a major score to celebrate the latest restoration project, but it was already a uniquely massive instrument.

As it happened, the restoration was not complete in time for the scheduled inauguration in 1928 and the Symphony with Organ, as the Symphonie concertante was then known, was first performed, with the composer as soloist, at the Brussels Conservatoire in the same year. Although it was well received on that occasion, and has been ever since, it has not achieved the popular success of Poulenc’s Organ Concerto which, written ten years later, remains the one work of its kind to have crossed the divide between the world of the organ and that of the orchestra to equal satisfaction on the two sides. This is not because the Symphonie concertante is inferior in any way. But, whereas Poulenc ‘s score is clearly in the stylistic main stream from Bach to Stravinsky, Jongen’s stands rather to one side. Its language, distinguished not least by its elusive modal harmonies, is the Belgian composer’s personal synthesis of ancient and modern features.

The opening Allegro of the Symphonie concertante begins with an orchestral fugue in the dorian mode: as director of the Brussels Conservatoire, Jongen knew all there was to know about counterpoint and church modes. Although the actual fugue is abandoned with the crashing entry of the organ, its first few notes retain a high profile as the main theme of the movement. The next most important theme is introduced when the organist first takes a rest and the strings present a quietly expressive, somewhat langorous melody which inspires lyrical reflections not only from woodwind soloists but also, on its re-entry, the organ. The central section of the movement is concerned mainly with the fugue theme and a more melodious variant (which will assume greater importance later in the work). The once langurous second subject is, however, sonorously and emphatically recalled on the organ at the height of the development. After that, the opening fugue is resumed as at the start, except that organ is involved this time. Recapitulation is otherwise restricted to gradually dying echoes.

The Divertimento is a scherzo based on two distinct kinds of material. Introduced by the organ in the opening bars, the first is a lively dance intriguingly set in 7/4 time. Although it appears to have nothing in common with the fugue theme of the opening Allegro, it actually derives from the variant introduced in the middle of that movement. When the orchestra has tried out its own version of the dance tune, the organ turns its attention to a rather more serious idea, a chorale melody in 3/2 marked religioso. Judging by its 7/4 interventions, the orchestra seems to prefer the dance tune. But by the end of the movement - which includes a passionately expressive central episode recalling Jongen’s compatriot César Franck - the organ and orchestra roles have been comprehensively reversed and all differences reconciled.

While there is no clear distinction between a concerto and a sinfonia concertante, a slow movement like Jongen’s Molto lento, where the solo instrument is significantly less prominent than the orchestra, would surely be out of place in a concerto. The organ is not silent here but - perhaps because orchestral colours are more appropriate to the impressionistic inspiration of the piece - it tends to remain in the background. Woodwind soloists are featured first in anticipations of the main theme which, derived from the dance tune of the Divertimento, is definitively introduced in a long-sustained melodic line on unision violins. Then, taking up a four-note fanfare motif first heard on woodwind over organ tremolandos, the three trumpets initiate a theme which is developed to a passionate and extended climax by the whole orchestra. Only then does the organ have an episode to itself before the orchestra makes a gradually more forceful intervention. The movement proceeds to its end with poetic allusions to earlier material and some interesting blends of organ and wind sounds.

There is no question of suppressing the organ in the finale, where the Wanamaker monster is liberated with a vengeance. The brilliant toccata figuration with which it begins is sustained throughout as organ and a similarly radiant, equally high-powered orchestra drive the main theme - another idea ultimately derived from the first movement - through ever more spectacular adventures to a massively sonorous conclusion.