A seminal figure in the history of French Romantic
music, Camille Saint-Saëns was also one of the
greatest keyboard prodigies of the past 200 years. When
he made his piano recital début at the age of ten in
the Salle Pleyel, he announced to the audience that he
would be pleased to perform any of Beethoven’s 32
sonatas as an encore. A good deal later, Liszt referred
to him as the greatest organist on earth. Saint-Saëns
was a prolific composer in all genres, and thus it is
not at all surprisi...(+)
A seminal figure in the history of French Romantic
music, Camille Saint-Saëns was also one of the
greatest keyboard prodigies of the past 200 years. When
he made his piano recital début at the age of ten in
the Salle Pleyel, he announced to the audience that he
would be pleased to perform any of Beethoven’s 32
sonatas as an encore. A good deal later, Liszt referred
to him as the greatest organist on earth. Saint-Saëns
was a prolific composer in all genres, and thus it is
not at all surprising that he created a bountiful body
of works for both organ and piano.
When Saint-Saëns took over the piano class at the
École Niedermeyer in 1861 he was no less innovative in
the teaching of Wagner, Schumann and Liszt to the
pupils he inherited there. Among their number were
Eugène Gigout, Albert Périlhou and, most notably,
Gabriel Fauré. Whilst he was to enjoy lifelong
friendship with each of them, it was Fauré with whom
he formed a particularly special bond. Although only
ten years stood between them the relationship was both
filial and that of teacher/pupil. Just as Saint-Saëns
was never quite able or willing to relinquish his
position of authority, Fauré seems, on the whole, to
have accepted it with gratitude. Saint-Saëns did much
behind the scenes to secure positions for his protégé
and it was not by chance that Fauré later succeeded
him as organist of La Madeleine. Following the tragic
deaths of his own sons in 1878 Saint-Saëns treated
Fauré’s boys, Emmanuel and Philippe, as nephews and
Marie Fauré accepted the older man as a member of her
family. The Trois Rhapsodies sur des cantiques bretons
(Pèlerinage au Pardon de Sainte- Anne-La-Palud), Op 7,
to give the work its full title, were written at
Daurmeny in August 1866 and are dedicated to Fauré.
Earlier that year Fauré had taken up his first
position as organist of St Sauveur in the Breton town
of Rennes and was not enjoying life. Saint-Saëns and
his friends Henri Regnault, Georges Clarin, Emmanuel
Jadin and Ulysse Butin visited the area and were joined
by Fauré on a pilgrimage to Sainte-Anne-La-Palud. It
was during a boat trip that the ‘thin rustic sound’
of the captain playing local folk tunes on an oboe
suggested the Rhapsodies to their composer.
The theme of the first Rhapsodie has been identified as
a ‘Cantique des missionaires’ and the secondary
theme of the second as a Breton Noël. In
post-Revolution organ repertoire only the fugue
retained its status as art music and just as the Te
Deum became a vehicle for hunting and battle pieces the
Noël was appropriated for patriotic songs. The
tradition of organ Noëls in France can, however, be
traced back to the seventeenth century, arguably
reaching its zenith in the works of Daquin. It is this
pre-Revolutionary tradition that Saint-Saëns reflects
in his Op 7, and whilst the thematic material for the
third of the set has not been identified, both the
first theme in A minor and the musette in F major owe
something to Daquin. Saint-Saëns was evidently pleased
with the work and he was quick to transcribe it in
versions for piano four hands and harmonium. Having
performed the work himself on numerous occasions he
returned to it in 1891 when he orchestrated the outer
movements under the new title of Rapsodie bretonne (Op
7 bis). It is probable that having lived with the work
Saint-Saëns felt that these movements belonged
together. Aesthetically they share much in common and
despite the two sections of the orchestral score it is
clearly conceived as one work. It is possible that the
composer considered the second movement of Op 7 less
suitable for orchestration, although given the size of
the orchestra he deployed this seems unlikely. Less
likely still is that he didn’t think the piece worthy
of further attention; it is a fabulous work, quite
disarming in its musical honesty. Although published
together under a single opus number, the collection
does not form a unified musical entity.
Although originally written for Pipe Organ, I created
this interpretation for String Quartet (2 Violins,
Viola & Cello).
