Note by note: Mulet Carillon-Sortie

This piece has always been with me. I always thought the main theme is so lovely and tuneful and has a certain French café air about it.

Measure 1: I begin with the box slightly open and close it in time for measure 2. Don’t know why. I just like that. I do the same thing with other pieces that begin similarly.

Opening measures: Sixteenth notes: always legato. There should be no phrasing, lifting, or other anachronistic techniques employed in any sixteenths in this piece. Matter of fact, ditto for eighths.

Measures 2-14: Except where otherwise indicated (such as measures 4, 5, and 9), the left-hand melody is not intended to be played detached in the least. This style is always legato unless otherwise indicated. The phrase marks in French Symphonic literature are designed to ‘land’ on the first note and carry on to the very last, but that does not dictate a break of any sort. When these French guys want you to break, they’ll write a breath mark or a rest. It’s quite scientific sometimes.

Measure 10: One might extrapolate left-hand detachment here, to match measure 9. And one has to wonder why measures 5 and 9 have a tie but measure 10 has a dotted half-note for the same value. Also in measure 10: play the Pedal F# with the right foot, just like all the other Pedal pairs, so that it doesn’t sound different. Discerning ears can hear that difference!

Measures 5, 9, 10: Pedal ‘stabs,’ both notes, should have exact releases. The French way is to measure that break, probably an exact eighth rest (or sixteenth, if it doesn’t sound too panicked). The note being held in the Great should probably be released as the same time as the second Pedal note, so that those releases don’t sound ragged. The left-hand markings in measure 10 suddenly don’t support the pattern, but I continue the pattern, anyway. There’s just not a compelling musical reason not to.

Measures 17-18: The dotted rhythm in the RH there is possible legato, and Mulet has not indicated anything else. So loosen up those fingers and get ready to cross them over and under each other. There is precious little time (if any) for substituting your way through those two measures. Likewise the left hand a few bars later.

Measure 18: I move the right hand to the Swell for its final sixteenth note, rather than on the next downbeat. Doing so on an eighth gives me more time to make the switch and doesn’t sound panicked.

Measure 48: I ‘thumb’ the alto D with the left hand, to help the right hand with the parallel sixths. Likewise measure 49, for the alto D and Ab.

Measures 52-56: Limber up those ankles and play all those consecutive black notes legato! If there’s room on your pedalboard, the right heel could play the Eb in measure 53. Play the Db in measure 56 with the right toe or the left heel. Heels on black notes in the tenor range don’t always work if the expression shoes overlap the notes (which is a design flaw, if you ask me).

Measure 71: If there is one, I’ll add the Zymbelstern for the recap. (Hey, it’s a bell piece!) I remove the Zymbelstern in measure 99, after one of those chords, either one.

Measure 80: The final alto A in the right hand is problematic for right-hand legato. Solution: since both hands are together on the Great, play that A (and hold it for its eighth-note value) with the left hand.

Measure 82: It’s good news that the left hand is permitted an ad lib there. I take advantage of that to allow a little ‘daylight’ before reintroducing the melody in 83 in the new texture. Likewise measure 94 for the right hand, but to buy time to move the hand to the Swell.

Measures 91-99: The left-hand octaves could be played on a solo reed, so long as the balance is still pleasing. I move that hand back to the Great for the second chord of 99.

Final chord: It’s admirable that the French approximate the ‘boom’ of the big Bourdon bells with Pedal resultants. That works in France. But in the U.S., the fifth of a Pedal resultant is very often too heavy. Instead, I play D octaves in the Pedal and transfer the left hand to a lower inversion of the chord, namely, low A/tenor D/tenor A. In my old age, I have become increasingly less apologetic about making such changes. If something sounds better that way on a non-French organ, then why apologize? No one has ever noticed. I wonder if Mulet would have.