Bonjour a Paris!

It`s my third day here, and I haven`t gotten any better at using this French keyboard, so you'll have to pardon the brevity of this post. After a Saturday night spent bouncing around the cafes in Belleville, where I'm staying, I got up early yesterday and made my way to the Eglise St.-Sulpice, where a festive Baptismal mass was taking place. The real draw, however, was the presence of Daniel Roth at the Grand Organ. Ross, one of the world`s great organists, has been the titular organist at St.-Sulpice since 1985, following in the footsteps of his renowned predecessors Charles-Marie Widor (64 years) and Marcel Duprè (37 years), both of whom I`ve written about recently.

After the mass ended, Roth launched into an extended, fierce improvisation, for which nearly everyone stayed in their seats. The celebrated organ, made by French master Aristide Cavaillé-Coll in the 1860`s, is a solid mass of dark wood and metal, filling the entire loft: it was as if the church had been built around the organ, rather than the other way around. About midway through, the sun suddenly streamed in the clear windows, bathing the heavy wood with light. When Roth finally ended after nearly 20 minutes, the entire congregation erupted into applause.

And then, as if by magic, a tiny door opened in the rear of the nave, and I, along with fifty-or-so others, climbed a tiny spiral staircase up 100 feet. At the top, I found myself standing in the loft, face-to-face with the mighty organ itself. I was directed to walk behind the console, where the old foot pedals that once required a dozen men to work lay dormant. (The bellows are now powered by electricity.) A little further, I entered a small salon containing portraits of all the St.-Sulpice organists back to 1619; there have been a total of twelve. Above all of them rests a bust of Bach.

Around the corner, I waited on a short line to enter the console area, where Roth was preparing his music for the next mass, already in progress. He greeted his guests warmly, flashing them a toothy smile while chatting breezily in French. It was like waiting to see Santa at the department store during Christmas.

When it came to be my turn, I tentatively climbed the three small steps behind the console so that I was standing directly next to Roth. I decided that I was just going to politely observe, not wanting to bother him or offend him with my pidgeon French. But, he suddenly turned to me, extended his hand, and said, "Bonjour!"

I tried to tell him in French that his playing was "très magnifique." He smiled, and immediately spoke to me in English.

"And where are you from?"

"New York."

"Ah! The city?"

"Yes."

"Are you a musician?"

"No, but I love music - and especially the organ. It is a great honor to meet you, and to hear you play today."

"Thank you. I hope you enjoy your stay in Paris."

I then asked if he would mind posing for a picture, and he obliged:

My evening was occupied with the Orchestre Lamoureux performing Carl Orff`s Carmina Burana at the Thèatre des Champs-Elysees, which was no less stunning. You can see pictures of that here; more of St. Sulpice after the jump.

The next time you hear from me, I'll be across the pond for the start of a European "vacation" that will take me to four cities in three countries, with at least one musical event scheduled each day. Posts and pics will depend on ready access to Internet cafes, but I'll check in as often as possible. First stop: Paris.

Marathon concerts are a way of concert life in New York. There's the CMJ Music Marathon, the Bang on a Can Marathon, the Grand Piano Marathon - not to mention numerous day-long indie and jazzfests. In 1978, Isaiah Sheffer and the folks at the new Symphony Space on 95th St. and Broadway took it upon themselves to stage a free 12-hour concert of Bach's music, performed by various musicians from the neighborhood. They called it "Wall to Wall Bach."

Thirty years later, Wall to Wall has become an institution, presenting a day-long concert of a different composer each year: they've had everyone from Schubert, to Cage, to Miles Davis and Joni Mitchell. But for their 30th anniversary, Symphony Space went "Bach" to where it all began: everything from solo works to huge choral numbers, one masterpiece right after the other. There aren't many composers around whom you can build a 12-hour concert; there are far fewer for whom such a stretch barely scratches the surface.

Bach is, basically, the DNA of music: every musician and listener must come to terms with his achievement, needs to feel it in their bones before venturing out onto the vast ocean of Tone. I first embraced Bach 20 years ago, where my college radio station had Nikolaus Harnoncourt's recording of the complete cantatas on vinyl; more recently, I was given a bootleg copy of Teldec's complete Bach 2000 set, which fills 5 DVD's (equivalent to 180 CD's.) Needless to say, I'm still plowing my way through it.

Numerous top-flight musicians appeared yesterday, including Eugene Drucker of the Emerson String Quartet, Fred Sherry of Tashi, Ursula Oppens, Eugenia Zukerman, and Jeremy Denk, who promoted his performance of the Goldberg Variations with the "weirdest concert announcement ever." I myself only made it through half the program, which alone clocked in at 5 1/2 hours (including a one-hour break.) For sure, I would have liked to have stuck around for more - especially the  American Symphony Orchestra's performance of the B-Minor Mass, which closed the event - but even I can only listen to so much music in one stretch, no matter how masterful. (Performance pics after the jump.)