Erato are certainly out to corner the market of complete Bach organ music with Marie-Claire Alain. While on the one hand they are issuing piecemeal her latest recordings, on the other they have reissued the earlier ones in a boxed-set with an impressively comprehensive booklet (although at over 270 pages, it would have been nice if they had added some kind of index).
There is ample justification for this richesse of Alain, her Bach playing is in a league of its own and notwithstanding some interpretative differences between the 1980 and the 1990 performances, this mid-price set is a very attractive proposition indeed. Not least because, as a cursory glance through the playing times reveals, hers is far and away the most comprehensive of the three sets currently under review. One person's completeness, though, is another's gaping hole and while Alain includes all the accepted organ works (with the obvious exceptions of the Neumeister chorales which were as yet undiscovered when these recordings were made), there are inconsistencies with regard to those shady pieces of uncertain parentage. While some are included—the eight Short Preludes and Fugues the Fantasia and Fugue in A minor (BWV561) and the G minor Fantasia a duobus subjecti (BWV917) others, whose credentials are equally worthy (or worthless) are not, namely the G minor Fugue (BWV131a), the C minor Trio (BWV585) and the G major Prelude (BWV567).
While Alain has singularly comprehensive coverage in the CD catalogues, the absence of Lionel Rogg's mould-breaking 1970 Bach recordings has remained a painful omission until now. When it comes to the great preludes, toccatas, fantasias and fugues, no one can match Rogg for sheer vitality and audacious power. The B minor Prelude and Fugue (BWV544) unfolds with the awesome regularity of volcanic lava sweeping remorselessly onwards with unyielding intensity, the wonderful Arlesheim Silbermann sounding as gritty and fulsome as if it was recorded only last month. Rogg's unashamedly masculine performances wear an almost arrogant mien which is never less than impressive.
Alain's approach is more diffident, almost nervous, the D major Prelude (BWV532) lumbering awkwardly with a distracting unevenness in the opening pedal semiquavers. Her strengths lie very much in the chorale preludes—an area where Rogg is distressingly (and consistently) weak. He goes through the motions adequately enough, playing the notes and choosing his registrations with care, but there is little sense of involvement; none of the 'reading between the lines' which is so memorable a characteristic of Alain's accounts. While Rogg's Liebster Jesu (BWV633) makes a scrumptious sound, he does nothing to shape the line or to express the essence of the chorale text. Alain makes it sing. She finds as much spiritual and musical fulfilment in these 24 bars as in the whole of the 'great' works. Her delectable registration is put at the service of the music, while Rogg seems to regard registration as an end in itself. But then this is Alain's pre-eminent gift.
Listen through all 154 chorale preludes here and you will be treated to a feast of gorgeous, invariably appropriate but astonishingly varied registrations. Somehow it's inconceivable that anyone else could come up with the delectable sounds Alain finds for Erschienen ist der herrliche Tag (BWV629) on the Schwenkedel at Saint-Donat, and when you add to this her innate sense of style and natural feel for the line, you have performances of exceptional value. But when Alain makes a misjudgement it is of extraordinary proportions. How can any right-thinking, sensitive soul turn Alle Menschen mussen sterben (BWV643) into such a bucolic romp? The English translation of the chorale text begins with the words ''All flesh must fade as grass'' and while the Christian faith admits a degree of hope and thankfulness in death, Alain's glib cheerfulness seems appallingly wide of the mark.
So far I've refrained from mentioning Isoir. Real affection not only for the music but for the instruments themselves permeates all his playing. The trio sonatas are a delight to behold, greatly enhanced by the lovely 1977 Westeinfelder organ in Saint Michel d'Esch-sur-Alzette, Luxembourg: specifications of the six organs used in this set are included, but neither Calliope nor Harmonia Mundi have gone so far as Erato in providing full registration details for each individual piece. That Isoir revels in the sonatas is evidenced, not only in the remarkably slow playing times—86'50'' for all six compared with 71'44'' (Alain) and 70'05'' (Rog)—but also in the curious fact that he chooses to play the second movement of BWV528 a second time, interjecting it between the Prelude and the Fugue of BWV541. There is some historic justification for adding a central movement to this work, but the sole evidence is that the movement was the third (un poco allegro) of BWV528. In opting for the lengthy andante Isoir not only distorts the character of the work, but the resulting lurch from G major to B minor and back again creates a degree of instability which shows a frightening lack of stylistic sympathy.
This isn't Isoir's only unilateral alteration. Odd tempos, unstylish ornaments and strange additions to the text pop up in the most surprising places. Isoir chooses not to play BWV645 (Wachet auf) as such, but turns to a direct transcription of the original movement from Cantata No. 140 complete with whispering harmonic underlay and some horrifying manual fluctuations in the right-hand. Such textural divergencies (which the sparse accompanying booklets fail to explain) are too frequent to make Isoir's recordings a really sensible proposition. Yes, individual works impress and there is no doubting his real sense of involvement in the music, but while an odd disc or two might add spice to my library, I would hesitate before investing in such a risky venture.
My money would be better spent on the Alain set. Overlooking some spectacular misfirings, here are consistently enjoyable Bach performances. While Rogg, also generously priced, may excel in a handful of works, regarded overall, and not forgetting to mention Erato's exemplary digital transfers, I find Alain's set an endless source of pleasure. There's not a dull moment in 13 hours of music.'