BYU Music Student Connor Larsen Attended the Organ Study Abroad to Paris and London, Where He Had the Opportunity to Play Original Organs in Historic Churches
While on the BYU Organ Study Abroad, I was walking out of the chapel of the famous Palace of Versailles after playing the organ when I heard … AC/DC? I turned and saw that the palace organist — a performer well known around the world — was, in fact, playing the beginning of “Thunderstruck.”
This was the first of ten days that would change my career as an organist. In those ten days we power walked behind our tour guide through the metros of Paris and the tube of London to 20 different churches. We didn’t just visit the churches or listen to the organs; we sat at the organ benches, flanked by some of the biggest names in the organ world, and played the historic instruments.
In a single day, we played the organs of Baroque master Couperin, 20th century experimental composer Messiaen, French romantic super-star Widor and mid-20th century composer Dupré. Up until this point in my organ career, their names had been filed away in my mind as organ literature class exam data. Their music, though thoroughly enjoyable to learn and play, seemed distant. “Ah yes, this piece is French,” my teachers would say. But what did that mean? What did their organs sound and feel like? Why did they write the way they wrote? All of these questions and more were answered in the days spent in these 20 churches, with their incredible organists and instruments.
One of my favorite experiences happened at St. Sulpice in Paris. This church is especially popular among organists as the church of both Charles-Marie Widor and Marcel Dupré. The original organ (both the pipework and the console) still stands in the church and is the instrument that these two great composers would have played on. It represents the largest of the most famous organ builders in France at the time, and many believe it to be the most accurate sounding of any of the remaining instruments from that time.
When it was my turn to play, I went out on a limb and selected a piece by neither composer. I selected an organ transcription of a mass that Louis Vierne (organist at Notre-Dame Cathedral) had written for two organs and choir to be premiered at St. Sulpice. I sat on the bench, with the cathedral’s organist, Sophie-Véronique Cauchefer-Choplin, on one side, and our tour guide, Christophe Mantoux, on the other. Both are world famous organists. I opened my iPad to the piece and let them begin pulling stops.
She and Christophe began quickly pulling the many rows of stops as I sat thinking about those who had sat at that console before. They both nodded to me that we were ready. The bombastic opening introduction, consisting of a haunting descending C# minor line, rang through the massive church, followed by a much quieter response, leading to what would normally be sung by the choir. As I began to play the choir parts, Christophe started singing. Where the women’s voices should have entered, Sophie began singing. I was sitting at the very organ this work was premiered on, with two famous organists sitting next to me singing along, surrounded by friends and colleagues. I barely remember what happened — it was thrilling. Throughout the piece my two valiant choir members adjusted stops, sang along and conducted me through the piece with the fervor of a real performance. By the end of this massive piece, as the organ rang through the cathedral, we laughed. The joy of music had connected a random kid from Provo, Utah, with these incredible organists in Paris, France in just six minutes. It will be a moment I never forget.
Every student on our trip had experiences like this: deeply profound experiences that connected us to the history and music we study, all while being surrounded by friends. We learned that we are not very different from the people we met around the world. Some of our favorite organists we met spoke little English. The devotion of their service to their churches was incredibly commendable. The lessons they taught us, the tidbits of information, the improvisations performed, have changed our approach to the music from their organ traditions both scholastically and in performance. We felt the weight of the keys that influenced their composition; heard the acoustics, the voicing of their famous flutes and reeds, and felt what they would have felt in those sacred spaces.
We returned home with the knowledge of how to perform these works more accurately and effectively. However, that wasn’t the most important thing I learned. I learned that music isn’t just for people to study, learn and perform. Music is to help us connect with our Heavenly Father’s children around the globe, to remind us of our eternal family and to help us have joy as we traverse this life together. Music transcends differences in race, language and location. From now to the end of my life, I hope to continue to develop the ability to make these connections and to bring joy through my music, just as I did while sharing a Vierne mass with Christophe and Sophie on the organ bench in Paris.
