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Bruckner: Symphony No. 00, “Study Symphony,” transcribed for organ by Eberhard Klotz; Fantasy in C—reconstruction by Erwin Horn of a Bruckner improvisation; Enjott Schneider: Alpha et Omega | Window on Bruckner’s “Study Symphony.” Hansjörg Albrecht, organ. Oehms. $19.99.

Bruckner: Symphony No. 9, revised and with the completed finale by Gerd Schaller, transcribed for organ by Erwin Horn; Requiem—Motet Libera me domine, transcribed for organ by Hansjörg Albrecht; Philipp Maintz: Aus tiefer Not schrei ich zu dir | Choral prelude VIII for Organ | Window on Bruckner’s 9^th Symphony. Hansjörg Albrecht, organ. Oehms. $19.99 (2 CDs).

     The most fascinatingly quixotic of all the many Bruckner bicentennial tributes comes to an end with beautifully played versions of organ transcriptions of Bruckner’s very first (1863) symphony and his final very-nearly-finished one, here wisely offered in the excellent completion by Gerd Schaller with an additional quixotic touch of its own: Schaller, himself a fine organist, has produced an organ version of his completion, but Hansjörg Albrecht instead uses one by Erwin Horn, who has provided very fine organ versions of symphonies throughout this remarkable project.

     There are 11 Bruckner symphonies in all, so it seems a touch odd (or, again, quixotic) that the very last release in this series, of the “Study Symphony,” is designated as Volume 10 – which happens because the release of Symphony No. “0” was designated Volume 0. The tremendous underlying seriousness of this sequence, and the excellence of its production, are peppered with touches of levity when seen this way. But there is nothing the slightest bit carefree about these remarkable Oehms CDs or Albrecht’s presentation of the music, which includes complementary organ transcriptions of various shorter Bruckner works plus a series of “Bruckner Windows” by 21^st-century composers – pieces through which (as through a window) one can view Bruckner’s symphonies with varying degrees of new/different/unusual clarity. Depending on one’s viewpoint, these “windows” can deliver bursts of startling insight or can be something more akin to stained glass: having beauty in themselves but not making it very easy to see through them to Bruckner on the other side. Alpha et Omega by Enjott Schneider (born 1950) is intended as a bridge of sorts between Bruckner’s first and final symphonies, with Schneider basing it on the notion (now, however, largely discredited) that Bruckner actively desired the use of his Te Deum to conclude his Symphony No. 9 because he knew he would not live to finish the work. In truth, Alpha et Omega is more intriguing if thought of and listened to as a bridge between the two forms of music on this Volume 10 CD: the “Study Symphony” itself and Horn’s fascinating attempt to reconstruct the Bruckner improvisation performed by the composer/organist in 1886 at St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna. This was an important event on many levels, and it certainly further cemented Bruckner’s already firm reputation as a brilliant organist and, specifically, an improviser on the organ: the performance was attended by composers including Saint-Saëns and Franck, themselves organists of some repute, and they and others who heard it found Bruckner’s playing remarkable. Albrecht’s handling of this reconstruction – which is by no means a throwaway, being in three movements lasting 20 minutes – is adept, sensitive and thoughtful, with an understated virtuosity that sounds as if it reflects Bruckner’s own approach with considerable skill (although of course no recordings of Bruckner’s playing exist – only contemporary accounts, most of them fulsome with praise).

     Albrecht’s handling of the reconstruction and of Schneider’s “Window” are so interesting that they almost overshadow his version of the “Study Symphony” itself. But only “almost.” This is a student work, to be sure, but it is not the work of a young man: Bruckner was 39 when he wrote it, and although it is certainly derivative and looks ahead in only minor ways to the later symphonies, it is sure-handed in construction and approach in ways that show it to be a worthy foundation of Bruckner’s symphonic oeuvre. Interestingly, the work in some ways sounds better as an organ transcription than in its original form, which is a bit prosaic in the handling of the ensemble: Albrecht’s playing elucidates the unsurprising four-movement structure while giving the symphony an aural palette resembling that of some of the later symphonies, the organ allowing a certain level of egalitarianism to this early work that Bruckner’s orchestration does not afford it. In any case, Albrecht’s sure pacing, careful attention to detail, and overall sensitivity to Bruckner’s structure and (still-developing) sound world make this reading a worthy one not only as an organ version but also simply as a presentation of the symphony.

     Matters are of course far more fraught and complex when it comes to Bruckner’s Ninth. Here Albrecht’s transcription of the early (1854) Requiem, a motet originally for chorus, three trombones, cello, bass, and organ, serves as a brief curtain-raiser and mood-setter for the symphony, and is followed by the fourth “Bruckner Window” by Philipp Maintz (born 1977), whose works also complement the organ versions of Symphonies Nos. 0, 4 and 7 in this series. Maintz’ fondness, perhaps over-fondness, for dissonance, works for Symphony No. 9 rather better than for the earlier Bruckner symphonies, notably in an abrupt final chordal exclamation somewhat along the lines of Charles Ives’ conclusion of his Symphony No. 2. Maintz limns a somewhat distorted from-darkness-to-light musical painting here – an intriguing viewpoint through which to see Bruckner’s final symphony. It is, however, Schaller’s completion of the symphony, and Albrecht’s interpretation of that completion, that truly provide a “Bruckner window” of great clarity, strength and meaningfulness. Albrecht thoroughly understands every nuance of the symphony, and his very carefully chosen pacing gives the work tremendous power and communicative strength – or, more accurately, unleashes the power and strength that Bruckner put into it. The concluding movement, of which Bruckner finished some 90%, acts as a genuine capstone in Schaller’s finely hewed completion, and is enormously effective both in its orchestral version (which Schaller has conducted to excellent effect) and in this organ transcription. Although the long-established three-movement version of the symphony has undoubted power and packs a substantial emotional punch, it is clear when listening to the work’s four-movement form that this is what Bruckner wanted, this is what he intended, and this is what serves as an offering “to my dear God.” Both Schaller and Albrecht thoroughly comprehend the underpinnings of Bruckner’s Ninth, and the result in Albrecht’s organ performance is a completely convincing presentation that mounts the pinnacle toward which the symphony’s first three movements ascend and then takes musical and spiritual matters even higher, into the realm of the ineffable. This performance alone more than justifies the decision to release all the Bruckner symphonies in organ transcriptions, although, in truth, this entire sequence is its own justification: Bruckner preferred to extemporize upon the organ, not write for it (he created very little organ music); but his symphonies, in the sensitively conceived and beautifully played versions offered by Albrecht, show the substantial extent to which Bruckner’s musical conceptualizations and aural thinking were colored by the tremendous depth of feeling that contemporary audiences heard him display when performing on his chosen instrument.