The eighteen-year-old Francis Poulenc, after showing his new composition Rapsodie Négre to an eminent professor at the prestigious Paris Conservatoire, received a vehement rejection. The piece was, in effect if not acoustically, a Bronx cheer in the direction of the musical establishment with the soloist droning out obstinate musical phrases to nonsense "African" words like "Honolulu" and other assorted gibberish. Worst of all, the piece was dedicated to Erik Satie who was truly the béte noire of the traditionalists. After his rejection by the Conservatoire, Poulenc had to get his musical education via private piano and composition lessons rather than a formal musical curriculum. Fortunately, he was an heir to a giant pharmaceutical company which made it easier to persist in composing.

Poulenc (1899-1963) in the 1920s was recognized as a member of “Les Six," a journalist-concocted term grouping the most radical, advanced French composers of his generation. Les Six was actually a social coterie of partying, performing artists rather than a coherent musical movement like the Russian “Five” from which the idea for Les Six was, nevertheless, taken. While keeping his iconoclastic orientation, Poulenc's subsequent style combined a Stravinsky-like neoclassicism and clarity with the luxurious harmonies of Ravel. Most important was an irrepressible inclination toward fun and pleasure in his music.

The American composer Ned Rorem described the man Poulenc as well as the music as "deeply devout and uncontrollably sensual.” Poulenc’s most famous pieces are his Gloria for Soprano Solo, Mixed Chorus, and Orchestra (1959) and his opera Dialogues of the Carmelites (1956), both unambiguously religious. The untimely death of his colleague and friend Pierre-Octave Ferroud in 1936 had reignited Poulenc’s faith in the Catholic religion. Poulenc wrote about the Concerto for Organ, String Orchestra, and Timpani (1938): “This is not the happy-go-lucky Poulenc but a Poulenc en route to the cloister—a 15th-century Poulenc, if you like.” However, to this listener, there are plenty of references to comic opera, South American dance, and even passing glances at the Parisian “Grand Guignol” horror theater mixed into the more traditional organ chords and counterpoint. Poulenc seemingly gives us leave to find joy in the seriousness with Gallic detachment maintained. 

The Organ Concerto is organized like a fantasy in seven continuous sections. I. “Andante” [A walking pace introduction] II. Allegro giocoso [fast, playful]- III. “Subito andante moderato” [suddenly moderate – this is the longest section] - IV. Tempo allegro - Molto agitato [Fast very agitated] V. Très calme - Lent [Very calm, slow] VI. “Tempo de l'Allegro initial” [again a fast playful tempo] VII. “Tempo introduction – Largo” [Introductory tempo – then very slow]. Is the lush music of section V, conveying the religious ecstasy of the cloister, or something much more secular? And consider the brief descending string passage just preceding it marked “en cédant beaucoup” [“yield!” i.e., slow down a lot]. Could this possibly refer to that most sincere, heart-on-sleeve music – the opening of the finale of Tchaikovsky’s “Pathétique” Symphony? Rather than fading out to a quiet plucked string accompaniment, the organ plays the Bach D-minor-Toccata rhythm, and the final, tonic note of “G” is uncolored by major or minor harmony.

Program Note by IPO Board Member
Charles Amenta, M.D.