‘Competition’: a word that immediately conjures up images of sweat, stress, early mornings, and litres of coffee consumed in an attempt to prove one’s worth. But where does this strange human invention come from, whereby individuals are judged through a test claimed to be fair?
It all began in Antiquity. In Greece, the best citizens – athletes, orators and poets – were celebrated in competitions where excellence was paramount. The Olympic Games embodied an ideal: the pursuit of physical and moral perfection. Music was no exception. In Delphi, the lyre was played for pleasure, of course, but also to win. Even in those days, artists had competition in their blood. This was true even of organists, since we know that competitions were already being organised on the hydraulis of Ctesibius.
One of the most famous – and frustrating – episodes is that of the aborted meeting between Johann Sebastian Bach and Louis Marchand. Around 1717, the renowned French organist was invited to compete against the equally renowned Bach in Dresden. Everything had been prepared: the jury, the organ and the audience. However, for reasons that remain unclear, Marchand did not show up for the contest. This legendary story perfectly illustrates the tradition of musical challenges, combining virtuosity, mutual admiration, fear and ego.
While the tradition was perpetuated in the Middle Ages, when troubadours challenged each other with verses in poetry competitions, it was particularly prevalent in the Renaissance and Baroque periods. Organists challenged each other in public contests – a kind of improvised duel that drew crowds of spectators eager to hear whether the local master or the visitor had greater mastery of the art of the pipes.
In the modern era, competitions became more organised and the idea that everyone should take the same test eventually prevailed. The French Revolution elevated competitions to a prominent position, making them the ultimate tool of the republican meritocracy. In theory, the privileges of birth were gone, and individual merit was celebrated.
In the 19th century, all kinds of competitions multiplied: Polytechnique, Normale Sup, École des Beaux-Arts… The Paris Conservatoire set the tone in the 1820s when Luigi Cherubini, the newly appointed director, introduced entrance and exit exams.
By the 20th century, competitions had become a pillar of the education system. Following the example of the major piano and violin competitions, international organ competitions (often featuring improvisation and interpretation) multiplied: Notable examples include Munich and Haarlem in 1951 (both featuring improvisation), St Albans in 1963 (featuring improvisation and interpretation), Chartres in 1971 (featuring improvisation and interpretation), Toulouse in 1981, Tokyo in 1986, Moscow in 1992, Leipzig in 1999, Montreal in 2008, and Lyon in 2017.
And today? Competitions, even if they sometimes hide their name, are everywhere and continue to fascinate. They are on television (yes, Top Chef and The Voice are competitions), on social media, and in companies. Some see them as a way of recognising merit. Others see them as an unequal system biased by many factors. The debate remains heated: do competitions reward the best, those who are best trained, or those who are most popular? Beneath their theatrically (and sometimes hypocritically) rigorous exterior, can they be hijacked to legitimise favouritism?
These are all delicate questions to which we will attempt to provide some answers in our March issue.
Photo: CIOC 2024. From left to right are the four finalists of the 2024 Canadian International Organ Competition: Henry Webb, Johannes Skoog, Mélodie Michel and Alma Bettencourt. Photo credit: Tam Photography.
