Faure
The Catholic Church of Saint Sabina held a funeral service for its long-serving organist, Mr. Louis Jean Faure, on October 9, 1969. He was 82 years old. The renowned organist/ composer had served the parish for many decades.
I was a student at the local University when I heard of Faure's death. I was studying as a organ performance major under one of Faure's students, James Carl Eschenbauer. I attended Faure's funeral along with my teacher.
Before the service, the church had set up a display of photographs and other memorabilia from Faure's tenure at the church. The first piece was his initial hiring back when the church was new, back in March of 1914, and covered up to the early 1960s. They highlighted some of the recitals and major works of the young Faure, who performed his first recital at Saint Sabina's on July 19, 1914 on a used Hook and Hastings, two manual organ.
After the war, the church purchased a new organ from M.P. Möller. It was built with Faure's supervision. The new organ was larger than the previous one. Möller built a three manual organ with 55 stops. Faure premiered the organ in a recital on June 9, 1923. He performed a few of his own compositions, which he would later play during the Mass for offertories, processionals and recessionals. Some of his works were written as fund-raising for the church, and as a sign of gratitude to the church for so many blessings.
My teacher noticed many of the images and program cards that were present. He also noticed, as did I, some things that were not even mentioned. While the organizers of the funeral did cover the majority of the years Faure served the church, they left out the last few years of his service altogether. My teacher told me that the last few years of Faure's life were filled with sadness and pain. I wondered why.
“Simple.” my teacher explained. “The spirit of Vatican Council II, and Father Hannibal.”
Vatican Council II called for changes in the Church, my teacher told me. Saint Sabina's Church was given a new pastor, who desired to change everything about the parish, including the music. He reduced the use of the organ and brought in the guitars, the drums and the folk singers. Faure found himself nearly out of a job after fifty years of faithful service.
The new priest, Father Hannibal, once pointed out in a sermon his new ideas for the music in his parish, as my teacher was able to quote verbatim: “We want the music of the people, not the music of the elite. We want the songs of happiness, not the sonic beatings of old, long-winded pipes.”
Faure went down from his choir loft to chat with the priest after the Mass. After two minutes of a one-on-one conversation, Faure planted a firm, right hook into the priest's jaw. It would be Faure's last day on the job.
After his encounter with the priest, Faure's compositional career ended. Within a year, he stopped performing altogether. Father Hannibal's church wasn't the only one that had switched to Mamas and Papas imitators. Faure and his fellow Catholic Church organists found themselves unemployed due to the ravenous spirit of the council.
“There is so much bad blood going on.” my teacher told me. “If you ever get a job, it won't be with the likes of Father Hannibal.”
I sat down with my teacher in the choir loft. The organ would not be used for Faure's funeral. Father Hannibal had other plans. The band assembled around the coffin for a final send-off. My teacher's blood boiled. I was aghast at the rude display, given the story I had just heard earlier.
I was surprised, however, when my normally level-headed teacher uncovered the organ. He knew the instrument well, from his own early days as Faure's pupil. Suddenly, the opening bars of Charles-Marie Widor's Toccata, from his Symphony No. V, were resounding throughout the Church. This glorious music, which was much loved by Louis Faure, soon masked the terrible warbling of the folk singers in the front of the church. The singers took a seat a minute into the Toccata. All the parishioners looked back at the loft, to my teacher and they listened to his unscheduled performance.
At the end of the Toccata, the parishioners all stood up in silence. One person clapped, then others joined in. The church echoed their enthusiastic acceptance of my teacher's music. Father Hannibal tried to dissuade his congregation from acknowledging the music, as it was “against the spirit of renewal,” and claimed that Eschenbauer's actions, “were against what Faure's service stood for.”
From his place at the Möller console, my teacher told the priest what he could do with his spirit of renewal. We immediately left Saint Sabina Catholic Church, taking the framed portrait of Louis Faure with us, a gift from his widow, Catherine. She begged us to, “keep my husband's works alive, and never let them go away.” We agreed to her request.
I later found out that Saint Sabina's was closed by the diocese, as too many people had left the church, probably driven away by that mad modernist, Father Hannibal. He was later reassigned, and eventually unveiled by the police for some private indiscretions.
The building was later purchased by a traditional Catholic group, and the property was restored to its former grandeur and beauty. They eventually contacted me about restoring the Möller. I gladly accepted the job, and after having assisted in the restoration, became the resident organist of the revived Saint Sabina Catholic Church. I have kept my promise to Faure's widow; To this day, Faure's music resounds within the church proper, my Te Deums, and lasting sign of respect for his good spirit.
Topic: Story of an Organist (Read 955 times)