San Diego Civic Organist Pays Tribute to Bach – and Himself – in March 26 Concert
>by Mark Gabrish Conlan • Copyright © 2023 by Mark Gabrish Conlan • All rights reserved
Yesterday I got sidetracked on a few things I wanted to write about, including Raúl Prieto Ramírez’s Sunday organ concert March 26, in which he paid tribute to Johann Sebastian Bach, doing an all-Bach program except for the obligatory performance of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” heard in an unusually florid version with a lot of added ornamentation. (Ironically, John Stafford Smith, the composer of “The Star-Spangled Banner” – originally a British college drinking song called “To Anacreon in Heaven” – was baptized March 30, 1750, just six months before Bach’s death on September 27, 1759,) Bach’s official birthdate depends on which calendar you use; it was March 21 in the Julian calendar and March 31 in the Gregorian, and maybe Raúl split the difference adn chose March 26 as the tribute date. (It was on a Sunday, the usual day of the week for the Balboa Park organ concerts, and it was midway between Bach’s two actual birthdates.) Instead of a printed program listing the pieces he was going to play, Raúl announced them from the stage and in one case – the third piece on the program, the Toccata in F, BWV 540, Raúl, as oe so often does, got so wrapped up in the ultra-long anecdote he was telling about the piece that he forgot to tell us what it was called. Only at the end, when he said he was going to encore it the next week, did Raúl finally give away the identity of that mysterious piece. As part of the festivities, volunteers with the Spreckels Organ Society were obliged to wear cheesy-looking grey long-haired wigs and be addressed as “Johann Sebastian” before their actual last names. Raúl wore a wig himself through part of the concert and said he liked it because it kept his ears warm, but he ultimately doffed it because it was getting in the way of his ability to hear himself play.
Raú;’s program consisted of six or seven Bach pieces – I wrote “six or seven” because the last Bach piece he played, the Fantasy and Fugue in D, BWV 532, was apparently compiled after Bach’s death from two separate works of his, both in similar tempi and the same key. Raúl began with the most famous Bach organ piece, the Toccata and Fugue in D minor (the one heard in Leopold Stokowski’s orchestral transcription in the 1940 film Fantasia). Raúl plays this at the opening of every concert at the first of the month, though he’s also alluded to the contention by some musicological busybodies that hte piece isn’t “really” by Bach because it hasno counterpoint, it ends with a plagal cadence (I’m not sure what that means, actually) and it sounds more Italian than German in its overall structure (which it really doesn’;t). Raúl has claimed that the earliest survviing manuscript of the Toccata and Fugue in D minor dates from an Italian source from around 1820, but that’s wrong. Apparently the first manuscript of the Toccata and Fugue was written by a student of one of Bach’s students and dates from 1735 – when Bach was still very much alive. I’m convinced that the work is really by Bach – it’s a towering piece of genius-level inspiration throughout – and if Bach didn’t write it, where’s the rest of the oeuvre by the person who did?
Afterwards Raùl played fve pieces in a row that were definitely by Bach, including the Chorale Prelude: “Liebster Jesù,” BWV 331; the Toccata in F, BWV 540; the Chorale Prelude: “Nur komm, der heiden Heiland,” BWV 659; the Grand Fantasy and Fugue in G minor, BWV 542l and the Prelude and Fugue in D, BWV 532. As usual with Raúl, he played beautifully if without that last divine or quasi-divine spark of inspiration that separates the genius fron the talent. But as a raconteur he’s a lot less funny than he thinks he is, and his endless chatter between pieces just takes away from the appeal of the music and renders his concerts hard for this particular listener to sit through. It’s indicative of how Raúl drones on and on and on that a concert that was supposed to last an hour (from 2 to 3 p.m.) didn’t end until 3:15.
Yesterday I got sidetracked on a few things I wanted to write about, including Raúl Prieto Ramírez’s Sunday organ concert March 26, in which he paid tribute to Johann Sebastian Bach, doing an all-Bach program except for the obligatory performance of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” heard in an unusually florid version with a lot of added ornamentation. (Ironically, John Stafford Smith, the composer of “The Star-Spangled Banner” – originally a British college drinking song called “To Anacreon in Heaven” – was baptized March 30, 1750, just six months before Bach’s death on September 27, 1759,) Bach’s official birthdate depends on which calendar you use; it was March 21 in the Julian calendar and March 31 in the Gregorian, and maybe Raúl split the difference adn chose March 26 as the tribute date. (It was on a Sunday, the usual day of the week for the Balboa Park organ concerts, and it was midway between Bach’s two actual birthdates.) Instead of a printed program listing the pieces he was going to play, Raúl announced them from the stage and in one case – the third piece on the program, the Toccata in F, BWV 540, Raúl, as oe so often does, got so wrapped up in the ultra-long anecdote he was telling about the piece that he forgot to tell us what it was called. Only at the end, when he said he was going to encore it the next week, did Raúl finally give away the identity of that mysterious piece. As part of the festivities, volunteers with the Spreckels Organ Society were obliged to wear cheesy-looking grey long-haired wigs and be addressed as “Johann Sebastian” before their actual last names. Raúl wore a wig himself through part of the concert and said he liked it because it kept his ears warm, but he ultimately doffed it because it was getting in the way of his ability to hear himself play.
Raú;’s program consisted of six or seven Bach pieces – I wrote “six or seven” because the last Bach piece he played, the Fantasy and Fugue in D, BWV 532, was apparently compiled after Bach’s death from two separate works of his, both in similar tempi and the same key. Raúl began with the most famous Bach organ piece, the Toccata and Fugue in D minor (the one heard in Leopold Stokowski’s orchestral transcription in the 1940 film Fantasia). Raúl plays this at the opening of every concert at the first of the month, though he’s also alluded to the contention by some musicological busybodies that hte piece isn’t “really” by Bach because it hasno counterpoint, it ends with a plagal cadence (I’m not sure what that means, actually) and it sounds more Italian than German in its overall structure (which it really doesn’;t). Raúl has claimed that the earliest survviing manuscript of the Toccata and Fugue in D minor dates from an Italian source from around 1820, but that’s wrong. Apparently the first manuscript of the Toccata and Fugue was written by a student of one of Bach’s students and dates from 1735 – when Bach was still very much alive. I’m convinced that the work is really by Bach – it’s a towering piece of genius-level inspiration throughout – and if Bach didn’t write it, where’s the rest of the oeuvre by the person who did?
Afterwards Raùl played fve pieces in a row that were definitely by Bach, including the Chorale Prelude: “Liebster Jesù,” BWV 331; the Toccata in F, BWV 540; the Chorale Prelude: “Nur komm, der heiden Heiland,” BWV 659; the Grand Fantasy and Fugue in G minor, BWV 542l and the Prelude and Fugue in D, BWV 532. As usual with Raúl, he played beautifully if without that last divine or quasi-divine spark of inspiration that separates the genius fron the talent. But as a raconteur he’s a lot less funny than he thinks he is, and his endless chatter between pieces just takes away from the appeal of the music and renders his concerts hard for this particular listener to sit through. It’s indicative of how Raúl drones on and on and on that a concert that was supposed to last an hour (from 2 to 3 p.m.) didn’t end until 3:15.
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