Bergen Domkirke
In the process of taking part in both the Bergen International Organ Festival and the Vestfold Organ Festival, I’ve so enjoyed becoming more familiar with the organ landscape in Norway and a number of the country’s important instruments. I’m playing three concerts in Bergen: at the Domkirken, the Mariakirken, and the Johanneskirken, all of which contain fine and stylistically divergent instruments. The first performance took place in the Bergen Domkirke with its celebrated (or notorious?) façade – yes, the one which, depending on whom you ask, looks like Darth Vader, or an Orangutan, or Skeletor, or just a really fine German Gothic Revival organ case. It is all that remains of an instrument first built in 1891 by Albert Hollenbach, and now houses a very complete 61-stop organ by Rieger Orgelbau.
Albert Hollenbach was more or less a new name for me. Born in 1850 in the northeastern region of Germany - a particularly fertile place for a proliferation of new Romantic organs - he first apprenticed by Lütkemüller, then E.F. Walcker, and F. Ladegast. That’s quite a pedigree, indeed. Scanning his opus list reveals that the lion’s share of his contracts were small one and two manual instruments, but a handful of larger 30-45 stop 3-manual organs did leave his shop. One large 3-manual organ was built for Neuruppin, Germany, and the firm notably received three important contracts from Bergen in 1891 and 1892, plus several for Oslo around the same time.
I haven’t yet been able to locate the disposition of the 1891 Hollenbach in the Bergen Domkirke, so I’d be very appreciative to anyone who might be able to pass that along! The organ was transformed by Frobenius in the midcentury, and finally in 1997 it was decided that Rieger would build a new instrument. The general identity of the instrument seems to make several important/conscious nods to what may have stood behind that imposing case in 1891. The Pedal sports one of those fantastic, quasi-orchestral 16’ Violons which gives such texture and definition to the bass, and at the same time has enough fundamental to be usable without a Bourdon. Its semi-slow attack, much like the movement of a bow on an actual Contrabass, is a distinctive sound signature of this period. The manuals are packed full of open flutes of all shapes and sizes. The 8’ Hohlflöte of the Hauptwerk is a wonderfully withheld, muted sonority, which only timidly blooms in the treble, whereas the 8’ Flûte harmonique is a sort of hybrid French-German type which is a total primadonna. The 4’ Spitzflöte is one of the more animated stops in the organ and speaks 18th and 19th century well. The Schwellwerk also sports a fine 8’ Doppelgedeckt which adds great density to that division and helps balance the intense battery of reeds and harmonic mutations. The “Fonds d’orgue” of the Hauptwerk, you could say is principally of German conception, with its edgy Gamba, quite strong 8’ Principal, attenuated by concentrated 8’ Hohlflöte (in lieu of a Bourdon), and soaring 8’ Flûte harmonique. I typically omitted the Gamba from French works (also sometimes even the Hohlflöte depending on context), especially since the Principal has much “Gamba” already in its profile, and vice-versa in German music, often omitting the 8’ Flûte harmonique until quite late in the crescendo. One of the joys of playing organs in Northern Europe are 4’ strings and the invaluable possibilities they afford – Hallelujah!
These fantastic foundation stops of the organ are altogether the high point of the instrument. The upperwork is also very good, but a little goes a long way, and as if often the case from this period, one must sometimes actually be more careful with the 2’ stops (which can become quite piercing in the treble) than the Mixtures (which are always ‘breaking back’ and are of smaller scale). Positiv mutations are all very fine – interestingly with a tapered 2 2/3’, a narrow 1 3/5’ (as opposed to the wide-scaled, harmonic versions in the Schwellwerk), what sounds like a tapered 1 1/3’ and an open 1’ Sifflet (which makes a fantastic “Carillon à la Cavaillé-Coll). The Positiv also sports a great classical 8’ Cromorne, but also a dark, throaty 8’ Clarinette.
If there’s a stop which requires some serious navigation, it’s the 4’ Clarion in the Swell. It’s extremely ‘hot’ – truly the crown of the whole organ – and perhaps more appropriate to an “Anches G.O.” than an “Anches Récit.” In French music which really required the color of a 4’ Clairon, I never opened the box more than 40% for “Anches Récit,” moved it to about 50% for “Anches Positif” (adding also the Cromorne and 2 2/3’ and 2’ of the Positiv), and then opening it to about 75% for “Anches G.O.” This seemed to work well and also prevented the Schwellwerk from swallowing the organ whole (it’s almost a “Bombardwerk”). It allowed the “Anches G.O.’ (only 16’ and 8’) to come on with the appropriate “éclat” and visceral punch instead of just making the already-too-present “Anches Récit” just sound a little bit amplified. Then at real climaxes at the end of a piece, you could go ahead and open the box to 100% for a very exciting effect (almost like adding a Chamade or something like this).
It was a great pleasure to get to know this fine organ, with its very amenable and responsive action, and many possibilities! It was great to finally meet Sigurd Melvær Øgaard, organist of the Domkirke, and formerly a resident of Texas for some 13 years, now off to play at the Bavokerk in Haarlem! Adam and I have so enjoyed getting to know this unique city (and its famously wet climate), and neither of us can have enough seafood and delicious fish soups. Tomorrow is the second concert at the Mariakirken (in which another Hollenbach organ once stood), and on Wednesday, the final concert on the magnificent Schlag & Söhne organ at the Johanneskirken.
Cheers!
Nathan
