Artis Wodehouse to play harmonium and reed organ program at Merkin Hall on April 12

Artis Wodehouse

Pianist and harmoniumist Artis Wodehouse has a BM from the Manhattan School of Music, an MM from Yale, and a DMA from Stanford. A National Endowment for the Humanities grant led to her producing CDs and publishing transcriptions of recorded performances and piano rolls made by George Gershwin, Jelly Roll Morton, and Zez Confrey. In 2000, Wodehouse began performing on antique reed organs and harmoniums that she had painstakingly restored and brought to concert condition. She founded the chamber group MELODEON in 2010 to present little-known but valuable music from 19th- and early 20th-century America, using her antique instrument collection as the basis for repertoire choice. 

During its prime in the nineteenth-century, the reed organ was the preferred instrument in American homes and also deemed a fit substitute for the more expensive pipe organ. Large reed organs became common in civic gathering halls and smaller churches. Despite the popularity of reed organs in America,¹ music for them consisted primarily of simplified arrangements of European art music, easy-to-play popular and sentimental ditties, polkas, marches, and waltzes, or hymns and other service music associated with worship or civic gatherings.

Toward the end of the nineteenth century it became apparent that design variation from company to company and from organ to organ, even within a given company’s fleet of models, was preventing composers from writing idiomatic original music for the American reed organ. The limited market for music crafted for one or another of the competing designs was too small to sustain widespread printing and marketing of scores.²

Without its own literature, such as had been created during the nineteenth century for its European counterpart, the harmonium, the American reed organ had an uncertain future. It would continue to be regarded at best as “a sort of weak substitute for the church organ.”³ Then, in the mid-1890s, at essentially the beginning of the end of the reed organ era, Mason & Hamlin⁴ began to address the problem by introducing an action design⁵ whose capabilities would “insure the greatest advantages to the composers, at the same time enable the manufacturer to place his instruments on the market at as low a price as possible.” The new action design was called the “Normal-Harmonium.” This was the action design for which the American composer Arthur Bird (1856–1923) wrote his compelling body of reed organ music. Figure 1 shows the Mason & Hamlin American reed organ, with Normal-Harmonium action design. Two knee levers are above the foot pedals. The right lever controls the internal swell shades; the left lever activates the Grand Jeu.

Mason & Hamlin’s Normal-Harmonium action design and Arthur Bird’s creation of a substantial, idiomatic music for the American reed organ came too late. Piano sales that had roared ahead after the Civil War rapidly displaced the reed organ. In the 1880s, reed organ sales slipped below that of pianos. By World War I, the glory days of the reed organ were over.⁶

 

Two competing
19th-century instruments: 

The American reed organ
and the European harmonium 

In the 1840s, United States inventors and businessmen founded companies that offered distinctive fleets of reed organ models. Reed organs were built in a bewildering variety of brands, sizes, and stoplist configurations. They ranged from diminutive four-octave home models that traveled to the West in covered wagons, to large, expensive instruments with powerful tone, full pedalboards, and many stops. 

The American reed organ used one or more sets of brass “free reeds” in order to generate tone. The performer’s foot pumping activated suction bellows that generated a stream of moving air, much like a vacuum cleaner. When the performer depressed a key, this moving air passed through a small chamber in which the reed was affixed at one end, but free to vibrate on the other end (hence the designation, “free reed”). The reeds varied in length, and the longer the reed, the lower the tone. Air rushing through the chamber caused the reed to vibrate, and tone to be produced. When a reed organ had more than one set of reeds, a set could be brought into play or silenced by allowing or blocking the moving air via stop pulls. As with the pipe organ, a set of shutters or swell shades located within the action facilitated dynamic contrasts. The performer opened or shut them on a gradient via a knee paddle. 

The largest and most prominent reed organ companies were Mason & Hamlin in Boston and Estey in Brattleboro, Vermont, but scores of others proved successful. As the nineteenth century progressed, American reed organs became increasingly complex. Inventors developed voicing techniques that produced a broad range of distinctive and contrasting timbres, named using terms derived from pipe organ nomenclature.⁷ Instruments built with multiple sets of differently voiced reeds featured multiple stops and a divided keyboard⁸ so that the player could choose contrasting timbres in the treble and bass of a single keyboard. Large reed organs were sometimes built with multiple keyboards, like pipe organs. The more reeds in an instrument, the more expensive it would be. 

Another keyboard instrument employing differently voiced sets of free reeds in airtight chambers arose in Europe during the nineteenth century. A Frenchman, Alexandre Debain, patented this instrument in 1842, naming it a “harmonium.” (See Figure 2.) 

Like the American reed organ, the European harmonium came to offer a broad range of distinctive and contrasting timbres controlled by stop pulls, and a divided keyboard that enabled the choice of different timbres in the treble and bass. (See Figure 3.)

Despite some similarity in design to the American reed organ, the European harmonium did not employ the American-style bellows system (suction) that pulled moving air in and through the reed chamber. Instead, in the European system, air was pushed through and out via pressure, producing sound like a trumpet or an oboe. The different airflow systems require different technical skills of the performer and produce distinctly different tonal characteristics. (See Figure 4.)

Foot pumping on the harmonium manages two important functions because of the way harmonium bellows were designed to work: the performer maintains constant airflow while simultaneously adjusting the relative airflow speed responsible for dynamic contrasts.⁹ Manipulating airflow velocity to effect dynamic changes was called “expression,” and this function had its own specially assigned stop pull. An additional European innovation for facilitating dynamic contrast was the invention of the so-called “double expression.” It was installed in the more costly European harmoniums. Double expression, a capability arising no doubt from a desire to mimic the piano’s ability to balance melody and accompaniment, allowed the performer to control not only the overall loudness but also the relative volume of the treble and bass on a gradient. Double expression is controlled by two knee levers installed under the keyboard and above the two foot-pump pedals. The skill required to play smoothly and expressively on the harmonium demands much practice.  

Late-speaking reeds, i.e., those with a time lag between the act of depressing a key and the sounding of its corresponding tone, hampered performers on both the American reed organ and the European harmonium.¹⁰ Although quick airflow delivery to the reeds was a design priority for both reed organ and harmonium builders, the Americans felt that beyond a certain point, slight lags were an acceptable characteristic of the instrument for which the performer was expected to make appropriate adjustments. The Europeans, however, took a different approach. To mitigate the problem of late speech (and to provide an additional tonal effect) they positioned small felt-covered hammers next to each of the reeds of the set most frequently used in performance. These little hammers were controlled by a stop pull, referred to as “percussion.” When the percussion stop is pulled and a key is depressed, the little hammers simultaneously strike the sounding reed, causing it to speak more quickly and incisively, like a crisp piano attack. The harmonium’s percussion makes performance of rapid passagework more predictable when compared to the American reed organ.

The most far-reaching advantage the harmonium held over the American reed organ was the standardization of stops generally agreed upon by the European companies. Standardization had two benefits: it made it possible to print in music scores commonly understood registration that could be used across instruments built by different companies. Secondly, performers could move from one harmonium to another with a minimum of adjustment.¹¹

It should be noted that the terms “harmonium” and “reed organ” were and continue to be used interchangeably. Lack of a clear and consistent terminology must be laid at the door of the overlapping and competing terms originally used. In their heyday, American reed organs were most frequently referred to as simply “organs,” but other names were used as well. These included Organ-Harmonium and Cabinet Organ, two different terms used by the same company, Mason & Hamlin. There were also fanciful names such as Phonorium, used by Estey.¹²

 

Harmonium and American reed organ repertoire

The capabilities of the European harmonium and the move towards standardization¹³ attracted several important nineteenth-century European composers. Elgar, Strauss, Schoenberg, Webern, Mahler, Liszt, Tchaikovsky, and Rossini made good use of the harmonium in some of their orchestral and/or choral works. Berlioz, Franck, Saint-Saëns, Guilmant, Widor, and many others wrote high quality solo and chamber music for it. Finally, the German composer Sigfrid Karg-Elert (1877–1933) made it his mission to develop a body of repertoire that would exploit the unique sonic and expressive capabilities of the Art Harmonium. During the early twentieth century Karg-Elert wrote what has proved to be the single most significant body of solo and chamber music for the instrument. The popularity of the European harmonium peaked about 1900, slightly later than the American reed organ’s peak of popularity.

Relatively few harmoniums made it across the Atlantic during the nineteenth century. On the other hand, American reed organs were exported and sold in fair numbers throughout Europe, particularly those built by Mason & Hamlin.¹⁴ Also, several European manufacturers such as Lindholm, Mannborg, and Shiedmayer adopted the American suction bellows system for their instruments.¹⁵ Nevertheless, despite significant cross-Atlantic distribution of the American reed organ and the availability of native European instruments with some shared characteristics, the American reed organ never established an artistic foothold through a representative body of high-quality music comparable to that written for the harmonium. This cannot be fully explained by the technical differences between the two as outlined above. Although the American instrument may have lacked the harmonium’s more refined control of dynamics and its useful percussion stop, the best American instruments, such as the Mason & Hamlin Liszt Organ, have a distinctive tonal beauty and a multiplicity of sounds equal to those of their European counterparts. 

The promotional prominence and enlarged, relatively standardized capabilities of Mason & Hamlin’s flagship Liszt Organ may therefore have been the impetus behind Boston-based American publisher Arthur Schmidt to print a few works for it during the 1890s. Schmidt’s publications for the Liszt Organ included both original compositions as well as arrangements of famous European works for organ solo, duets with piano, and chamber pieces. But apart from Eugene Gigout’s excellent Romanza for the Liszt Organ, unfortunately none of the rest rose to a similarly high quality.

 

Arthur Bird, American expatriate composer (1856–1923) 

Around 1896, Mason & Hamlin likely encouraged and may have actually commissioned the American composer Arthur Bird to write idiomatic art music for the standardized action they introduced during the 1890s, called the Normal-Harmonium. 

No documentation has yet surfaced indicating payment to Bird for his work by the firm. Nevertheless, key musical and personal circumstances link Arthur Bird to the most significant people associated with the Mason & Hamlin Company. Central to the connection between Arthur Bird and Mason & Hamlin was Franz Liszt. A canny seer, Liszt bet correctly on the ability of eager young American pianists and composers to hold high the torch of pianism and to carry forward the music of the future. Liszt welcomed them, offering his inspired pedagogy and worldly professional connections free of charge. Liszt’s generosity forged a well-documented bond among his pupils. Liszt’s first American student was the pianist William Mason (1829–1908). Mason studied with Liszt beginning in 1849, and brought back to the United States Liszt’s pedagogic principles through an extensive career of teaching, performing, and publishing. William Mason also happened to be the brother of Henry Mason, who in 1854 co-founded the Mason & Hamlin Company. Henry and William Mason were in turn sons of Lowell Mason, an important American hymn composer and musical educator during the first half of the nineteenth century. 

Liszt owned and wrote music for numerous keyboard instruments provided for him by both European and American companies.¹⁶ Among such instruments in his sizable collection was a Mason & Hamlin cabinet organ that he acquired in the 1870s. Later, Mason & Hamlin’s flagship high-end model came to be named the “Liszt Organ,” a likely outcome of the close connection between Liszt, his pupil William Mason, and the Mason & Hamlin Company.¹⁷ The Mason & Hamlin Liszt Organ was introduced about 1880. Complex, colorful, powerful, and versatile, the Liszt Organ was designed to compete with the best European harmoniums. While the Liszt Organ shared many tonal and functional features with the Normal-Harmonium design, it had a different tessitura (five octaves, C to C, versus the Normal-Harmonium’s F to F) and a different split point (E–F versus B–C for the Normal-Harmonium).

Arthur Bird was also one of Liszt’s American pupils, coming to him during Liszt’s later years.¹⁸ Bird’s musical and personal background strikingly resembled that of William Mason. Born in Belmont, Massachusetts in 1856, Bird’s early musical training came from his father and uncle, who were born-and-bred American church musicians. Arthur’s father, Horace Bird, and his uncle, Joseph Bird, were active in the New England of the 1840s and 1850s as voice teachers, composers of hymns and songs, and editors of singing books written to develop score-reading literacy. Upon the advice of William Mason’s father, Lowell Mason, young Arthur Bird was sent in 1875 to study in Germany at the Berlin Hochschule für Musik. Returning to North America two years later, he took a church music position in Halifax, Nova Scotia, where he began to compose. He returned to Berlin in 1881 to study composition and orchestration. It was during this time that Bird came into the Liszt orbit.  

By his early 30s (in the mid-1880s), Bird had become well established as an organist and pianist. His compositions were published and performed widely in Europe. Bird spent most of his life abroad, mainly in Berlin, where he married a wealthy German widow and apparently lived lavishly. In 1897 Bird returned for some time to the United States in what proved to be a failed attempt to have his comic operetta, Daphne, performed in America. Reading between the lines of William Loring’s biographical work on Arthur Bird, is it possible that Bird wished to forge a closer connection to his native country? Certainly a major production of an opera by a United States-born composer within the United States would be an excellent vehicle for that scenario. During the late 1890s, when the quest for “genuine” American composers was in full swing, Bird may have sensed an opportunity. In any event, in that same year (1897), the first of Bird’s pieces for the Mason & Hamlin “American Harmonium” (op. 37) were published by Breitkopf and Härtel, an important German firm still operating that publishes high-art European music.¹⁹

 

Characteristics of Arthur Bird’s “American Harmonium”

The historic trajectory mating Arthur Bird with the Normal-Harmonium came just at the point when the piano had overtaken reed organ sales. Mason & Hamlin realized that in order to survive in the long term, the reed organ needed some good original music. The publication of Arthur Bird’s music for the “American Harmonium” came at a historic crossroad for the American reed organ, largely due to the rise of the American piano. From the 1850s, pianos, and particularly American pianos, started to benefit from standardization and mechanical manufacturing methods of the industrial revolution. Prior to this time, pianos were mainly handcrafted items. Likewise around 1850, the design of the piano, particularly the American piano, moved rapidly toward increased durability and a greater dynamic and pitch range. Piano types coalesced into three categories: square, grand, and finally, upright. Each of these types served a clear purpose. As a result, consumers began to turn to the piano as a viable keyboard alternative to the reed organ, particularly in the home market, where the reed organ had ruled uncontested.²⁰ Sales of pianos grew steadily through the nineteenth century.

In contrast to the piano industry, American reed organ manufacturers from the 1850s to the 1900s offered consumers instruments of a wide variety of sizes, competing capabilities, nomenclature, and above all, case styles.²¹ After the Civil War, American manufacturers also developed complex instruments of considerable beauty, sophistication, and expense. These large instruments with enhanced performance capabilities were aimed at a smaller “niche” market, for placement in the homes of the wealthy, civic or religious meeting halls, and small churches. But after a sustained growth period lasting about 40 years, sales of the American reed organ began to decline in the 1880s.

The Normal-Harmonium action design of the 1890s for which Bird wrote was conceived to meet these market challenges. Mason & Hamlin worked with and adopted the Normal-Harmonium design in collaboration with two entities associated with the company: their German representative Paul Koeppen and the Bender firm in Leiden, Holland.²² Mason & Hamlin’s goal was to provide a standardized instrument that could compete with the piano and its plentiful repertoire. Their instrument had to be sophisticated enough to attract composers to write good music for it and be of a reasonable cost. 

Mason & Hamlin met both of its goals. First, the cost of an instrument with Normal-Harmonium specifications was indeed lower by half or more than that of the top of the Mason & Hamlin line, the Liszt Organ. The price of the Liszt came in at $700, but instruments with Normal-Harmonium capabilities could be had between $260 and $300.²³ Second, the Normal-Harmonium action provided attractive and useful performance capabilities. These included a pitch range of five octaves from F to F and multiple sets of reeds offering an elaborate stoplist. American reed organs with the Normal-Harmonium action design began to be manufactured in the 1890s and continued to be built until the company ceased reed organ production in the early 1920s.

As mentioned previously, inconsistent nomenclature and lack of a simple explanation for actual performance capability plagued the field. Although Mason & Hamlin offered a standardized action design in the Normal-Harmonium, Bird’s music itself was identified on the score as being intended for the “American Harmonium” and/or the “Normal-Harmonium.” Nomenclature had still not jelled. Therefore it must be stressed that the terms “American Harmonium” and Mason & Hamlin “Normal-Harmonium” do not refer to any one specific instrument, but rather to an action design embodying certain specific capabilities. 

Figure 5 shows the overhead view of interior of the Mason & Hamlin American organ with Normal-Harmonium specs. To the upper right is the paddle that is activated to rotate by the Vox Humana stop. The upper left box houses the very large Sub Bass reeds. The specific capabilities of the Normal-Harmonium are as follows. 

 

Stoplist:

Diapason Dolce 8′—the Diapason, mechanically softened. 

Sub Bass 16′—consists of 13 notes, the chromatic octave upward from low C. This stop uses the largest, longest reeds, producing a deep, rich, and powerful sound.

Eolian Harp 2′—two detuned sets of reeds producing a shimmering, ethereal vibrato.

Diapason 8′—pure, organ-like tone. 

Viola 4′—resembles the sound of the orchestral instrument for which it is named.

Viola Dolce 4′—the Viola, mechanically softened.

Vox Humana—adds a vibrato or tremolo. Can be used in combination with any of the other drawn stops in the treble. Activated by the turning of a windmill-like paddle located inside the action.

Seraphone 8′—differs from the Diapason in timbre. Focused and slightly nasal.

Flute 4′—resembles the sound of the orchestral instrument for which it is named.

Melodia 8′—continuation in the treble of the Diapason reeds.

Vox Celeste 8′—another stop combining two sets of detuned reeds that creates a vibrato effect. 

Octave Coupler—when pulled, mechanically connects a note to that of one an octave higher.

Melodia Dolce 8′—mechanically softened Melodia. 

 

The split point on the keyboard is between B and middle C. Stops from Seraphone 8′ up activate the treble, the stops from Viola Dolce, down, the bass.

 

Mechanical devices:

Grand Jeu—activated by a knee paddle located under the keys above the left foot pump pedal. The Grand Jeu causes all the reeds to sound at once, producing the instrument’s fullest and loudest sound.

Swell—activated by a knee paddle located under the keys above the right foot pump pedal. This device controls the internal shutters responsible for dynamic contrasts. (See Figure 6.)

 

Arthur Bird as composer

During his lifetime, Arthur Bird was recognized as an active, widely published, and well-received composer of some stature, particularly in Europe. Incidentally, his successful European career was launched in no small part because of the positive public and private endorsements Bird received from the influential Franz Liszt. 

Bird’s oeuvre is extensive, including opera and theatre works, orchestral music, songs, piano materials, chamber works (particularly those for wind instruments, for which he is best-remembered today), organ, and many other forms. Bird wrote a sizeable number of short solo piano pieces in well-established standard dance forms and topical styles—march, waltz, minuet, gavotte, lullaby, and mazurka. His extensive experience composing in this genre prepared Bird well to write for the American reed organ. Bird’s music is available in score at the Library of Congress through the generous donation of his widow and has been amply documented through the International Music Score Library Project.²⁴

Relatively little of Bird’s music has been recorded.²⁵ What is available tends to confirm the critical reception his work received during his lifetime. Reviewing a performance of [Bird’s] Serenade for Wind Instruments, op. 40, the Berliner Borsen Courier said: “It is distinguished for the freshness and spontaneity of its invention, as well as the clever craftsmanship and the clear and compact disposition of its different parts . . .” Another critic comments: “Characteristically his music is pleasing and melodious in composition. It is coherent and well developed in form. It lies easily within the range of the instruments, and displays no little knowledge of their resources.” Of him, [Arthur] Farwell wrote: “Arthur Bird is known as the possessor of a fertile and truly musical imagination and a thorough technique . . .
Bird is a musician of German training and French sympathies and calls himself a conditional modernist.” Mentioning that Bird composed in almost all forms, [Louis] Elson says of him: “He is an excellent contrapuntist, yet uses his skill in this direction as a means rather than as an end, seldom making a display of his knowledge. It is a pleasure to find an American composer who is not anxious to out-Wagner and who goes along the peaceful tenor of recognized and classical ways.”26 Bird was even described as “the most promising American composer of the middle and late Eighties” by no less than the important conductor,
Arthur Nikisch.²⁷ 

The amount and dating of Bird’s production seem to confirm Loring’s supposition²⁸ that after 1900, Bird’s work dwindled, though his reed organ works of 1905 (op. 45) maintain his previously held high standard. On the other hand, his simplified arrangements, American Melodies Specially Adapted and Arranged for Normal-Harmonium of 1907, appear to have been written simply for profit and lack the artistic value of his earlier work for the American Harmonium.

 

Arthur Bird’s music for the American Harmonium

Those who either possessed or might  have considered purchasing an instrument with the Normal-Harmonium action design would likely be individuals of some performance ability and/or a level of musical sophistication high enough to appreciate the artistic features of the instrument. They would also likely appreciate piano music of the better salon variety, up to and including Schumann’s, Chopin’s, or Grieg’s short works for solo piano. Finally, they would most likely be of the social class that would appreciate hearing this music, most likely in the home setting. 

Bird’s conservatism—informed by fine craftsmanship, deft handling of instrumental color, and fluency in miniature forms—may not have been enough to place him into the compositional pantheon of his trailblazing European contemporaries (Mahler, Debussy, etc.), but his abilities ideally suited him for writing salon-oriented character pieces of the type popularized by Mason & Hamlin’s Normal-Harmonium. An already accomplished American composer, Bird’s impeccable, media-worthy credentials and network of connections to Mason & Hamlin were a further plus. Bird was a perfect fit.

Bird published six opus numbers for the Normal-Harmonium.²⁹ All contain interesting and beautiful music, but the best of these was his first, the ten pieces of op. 37.³⁰ In the first printing, the op. 37 pieces were identified directly on the score’s front pages as being intended for the “American Harmonium”³¹ or for the Mason & Hamlin “Normal-Harmonium.” A page is devoted to an explanation of the stops required and their manner of notation in the score. Bird used circled letters derived from the stop name. For instance, Diapason is D; Viola, V; Voix Celeste, VC; and so forth. Later print runs of op. 37 contain the same explanatory page, but also indicate standard stop numbers, i.e., 1 for Diapason, 3 for Viola, 5 for Eolian Harp, etc., that would correspond to numbers appearing on European suction instruments of equivalent capability.³²

While no piece in the op. 37 set lasts more than three minutes, each exhibits a mastery of craft: beautifully spun-out melodies, masterful counterpoint, subtly personalized inflections of nineteenth-century harmonic practice, and traditional formal structures handled with deft assurance. Bird’s forms are not unusual (ABA, sonata, rondo). But because the Normal-Harmonium’s unique instrumental colors are an integral component of Bird’s structural designs, the listener experiences an additional dimension of thematic transformation. In his music for Normal-Harmonium, Bird’s assimilation of instrumental color as a component of structural rhetoric relates his music to that of the nascent French impressionists at the turn-of-the-century. The following briefly describes salient features of each of the pieces in Bird’s op. 37:

1. Meditation—a sarabande. In this mini-Wagnerian contrapuntal ramble, Bird employs kaleidoscopic stop changes that underscore the evolving melodic twists and turns.

2. Preludium—brooding and dramatic four-part writing in an ABA structure. Registration is simple, but Bird uses the octave coupler at the recapitulation, reinforcing and underscoring the harmonic excursions introduced as the piece moves toward an impassioned final cadence.

3. Adagio—elegiac four-part mini-sonata. Development section comprises a series of recitative-like meandering arpeggios over sustained chords. Recapitulation re-registers the opening material over low pedal points. With more recitative-like arpeggios at the coda, the piece concludes with a simple fadeout on the ethereal Eolian Harp stop.

4. Reverie—features a long-breathed, haunting, and tentative treble melody on the flute stop set against slithering countermelodies registered on the atmospheric Eolian Harp stop. In ABA form, the melody’s return is entirely recast in a fuller texture with the foundation 8′ and 4′ stops. In partnership with a walking bass line, the melody’s tentative first appearance is thereby transformed into an affirmative point of arrival. The coda brings the listener back to the ethereal Eeolian Harp, rounding the piece off as it began.³³

5. Postlude—hearkens back to Bird’s American past, a spirited march that suggests a full wind band.³⁴ Bird’s registration indicates that the piece must be played in its entirety using only one setting, the circled G indicating “Grand Jeu.” Because Grand Jeu causes all the stops to sound at once, finger strength and vigorous foot pumping are required throughout. 

6. Improvisato—a fierce, somewhat virtuosic piece. Registration involving the basic 8′ and 4′ stops is augmented at the recapitulation by use of the Grand Jeu. Rapid, conjunct passagework in the wild coda comes off surprisingly well, despite the lack of a percussion stop. Bird was a hands-on composer and knew what the Mason & Hamlin organ could do.³⁵ 

7. Offertoire—This piece would be suitable for use in a church setting. It is an atmospheric sweet/sour composition with change of mode. 

8. Scherzo—This is the most technically demanding of the set, an extended rondo. Rapid sixteenth notes scattered throughout the piece when the octave-coupler is drawn or the Grand Jeu is activated require finger strength and precise articulation. Not only the performer’s skill is tested: Bird takes the instrument itself to the edge of its mechanical ability to sound quick notes on the fly. Registration is extraordinarily full and rich, suggesting an orchestra. 

9. Auf dem Lande—a melancholy, minor “folksong” melody is transformed to a grand, affirmative conclusion in major mode.

10. Pastoral—perhaps the most inventive and idiomatic of the entire set. Bird’s motivic ideas have a symbiotic relationship with the instrumental colors he brings to bear. Set above continuously sustained low pedal points, a flowing conjunct melody in the treble twines about an ostinato pattern in the mid range. In order to keep the pedal points depressed while so much action is occurring that requires two hands, lead weights must be used to hold down the pedal-point notes.

 

The American reed organ, Arthur Bird, and the future

The composition of high-quality, original repertoire for the European harmonium during the nineteenth century has proved to have far-reaching consequences. Once thought lost to history, beginning in the 1980s the harmonium has been going through a steady revival, centering in the Netherlands. It seems likely the harmonium will continue to reestablish the place it once held in the classical repertoire. While there continues to be a small but passionate interest in the American reed organ,³⁶ a revival similar in scope and momentum has not yet begun.

As the rise and fall of the American reed organ demonstrates, the key to an instrument’s survival is not its mechanical capabilities, but rather the repertoire written for it. Not just any music will do. What is needed is music that will continue to offer listeners an aesthetic experience independent from the era in which it was created.

In the case of the European harmonium, the point where form and function met occurred when distribution was growing and the instrument’s capability achieved sufficient standardization. This favorable environment attracted a fair number of composers to write significant music for it. Unfortunately for the American reed organ, standardization arrived at the very point when distribution was falling. 

Nevertheless, we are grateful that one composer, Arthur Bird, stepped in during a brief moment of opportunity in the history of the American reed organ. With his ideal combination of skills, commitment, and inspiration, he provided us with music that stands poised to move into the future. ν

 

Special thanks to Carson Cooman and Whitney Slaten

 

Notes

1. American publishers also churned out a deluge of reed organ method books intended for the large market of rank amateurs in the United States. 

2. Paul Hassenstein, “The Normal Harmonium And Its Literature,” The Music Trade Review 41:3, July 1905, 87. 

3. Ibid., 87.

4. Mason & Hamlin began as a reed organ manufacturer, but in 1883 started making pianos as well. About 1920 the company ceased making reed organs, but continued their piano line. 

5. “Action design” refers to a specific set of performance capabilities contained within the mechanism of an instrument. Action design was independent of case style. The same action could be enclosed in a variety of cases.

6. Robert F. Gellerman, The American Reed Organ (Vestal, New York: Vestal Press, 1973), 18.

7. Ibid., 97–99. Gellerman’s list of stop names gives some indication of the diversity and lack of standardization among the American reed organ manufacturers.

8. The point of division between bass and treble was called the “split point.”

9. The harmonium did not employ the swell shade of the American system for dynamic contrast because the pressure system made possible quick changes in air speed. Quick control of air speed permits the execution of sharper accents and faster dynamic changes than is typically possible on the American instrument. Simply put, the American instrument is easier to learn how to play, but lacks the degree of potential interpretive refinement offered by the harmonium.

10. The phenomenon is due to inertia. Lowest reeds speak quite slowly: they are the largest reeds, sometimes several inches in length.

11. Gellerman, American Reed Organ, 107.

12. I have consistently used “American Reed Organ” or simply “reed organ” to refer to the suction bellows action design, and “harmonium” to describe the European pressure instrument.

13. Standardized pitch range, split point, sets of stop pulls, shared nomenclature. Nevertheless, as the 19th century progressed, European harmonium manufacturers (like their American counterparts) succumbed to the lure of increased capability that culminated with the celebrated “Art Harmonium.” The Art Harmonium offered a whole new range of attractive colors and capabilities. Music written for the Art Harmonium could not be played on more basic harmonium models.

14. Casey Pratt, e-mail to the author, July 30, 2013. Casey Pratt is a United States reed organ restorer who specializes in the Mason & Hamlin. Exact numbers are not known to date.

15. Ibid. 

16. For instance, Liszt owned a piano-harmonium specially designed for him by Erard and Alexandre and a Chickering grand that was used in his piano master classes. He also collected then “antique” pianos that belonged to Mozart and Beethoven.

17. The Liszt Organ has a set of uniquely voiced, so-called “Liszt” reeds of great tonal beauty. 

18. The main biographical information to date regarding Arthur Bird was amassed by Dr. William Cushing Loring (1914–2002). Loring was a Harvard graduate and an urban sociologist. After retirement, he focused on American art and music, working with Scarecrow Press to develop a series of more than twenty books on various North American composers. 

19. Available at the International Music Score Library Project website: http://imslp.org.

20. Another likely reason piano sales surged ahead of the reed organ resulted from the installment purchase plans offered by piano companies. Once a luxury item of the upper classes, the piano then became affordable to the burgeoning middle class.

21. The flamboyant case styles of American reed organs clearly indicate a function beyond that of simply a musical instrument. In addition to ornate carvings, some reed organ cases featured a façade of non-functional organ “pipes,” mirrors, candle holders, and the like.

22. This information was communicated by Frans Vandergrijn, a Netherlands-based authority on reed organs and harmoniums in a posting on Yahoo’s Reed Organ Restoration newsgroup, August 9, 2013. 

23. Pratt, e-mail to the author, August 10, 2013. To put these prices in perspective, average United States yearly income in 1900 was $438.

24. http://imslp.org/wiki/10_Pieces_for_Harmonium,_Op.37_(Bird,_Arthur_H.)

25. Modern recordings include music for piano 4-hands, op. 23, Vladimir and Nadia Zaitsev, pianists; Introduction and Fugue, op. 16, Tony and Mary Ann Lenti, pianists; Serenade for Wind Instruments, op. 40, Suite for Double Wind Quintet, op. 29 (Naxos), and Carnival Scenes for Orchestra, op. 5 (Albany).

26. William C. Loring, Jr., “Arthur Bird, American,” The Musical Quarterly 29:1, January 1943, 87. 

27. Ibid., 88.

28. Ibid., 86.

29. Op. 37, 1897; op. 38, 1901; op. 39, 1903; op. 41, 1906; op. 42, 1905; op. 44, 1903; op. 45, 1905. All are available at the Library of Congress.

30. Not all of the op. 37 pieces scanned and available in IMSLP come from the original 1897 printing, several being from later editions. The only difference is that additional equivalent registration intended for European suction instruments was added. 

31. My supposition is that Breitkopf titled them for the “American Harmonium” in order to alert purchasers that the intended instrument would be one of American design. European suction instruments could have been more or less acceptable alternatives, but only the Mason & Hamlin Normal-Harmonium would have had the subtle specificity of timbres and tonal balances characteristic of the Mason & Hamlin sound.

32. On IMSLP: http://javanese.imslp.info/files/imglnks/usimg/2/2d/IMSLP65232-PMLP1327…

33. See performance at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIC9EwIjmks

34. And Percy Grainger’s later work for the reed organ.

35. See performance at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fi6yjMzjKe.

36. The American Reed Organ Society has been in existence since 1981.

 

References

Archival Sources

Music Division, Library of Congress, Washington, D. C. Music of Arthur Bird. Includes all his published music for reed organ, plus some manuscript scores.

 

Books and Articles

Brown, Andrea Elizabeth. “A Descriptive Analysis of Arthur Bird’s Suite in D.” DMA diss., University of North Carolina at Greensboro, 2010.

Elson, Louis C. American Music. New York, NY: MacMillan Co., 1904.

Gellerman, Robert F. The American Reed Organ. Vestal, NY: The Vestal Press, 1973.

———. The American Reed Organ and the Harmonium. Vestal, NY: The Vestal Press, 1996.

Good, Edwin M. Giraffes, Black Dragons, and Other Pianos. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2001.

Hendron, Michael, ed. Manufacturers Music Album Reed Organ Society Anthology Series. Palmer, Massachusetts: The Reed Organ Society Publications Office, 2001.

Hiles, John. A Catechism for the Harmonium. London: Brewer and Company, 1877.

Loring, William C., Jr. “Arthur Bird, American.” Musical Quarterly 29, no. 1 (1943): 78–91.

———. Arthur Bird: His Life and Music. Newton Centre, MA: n.p., 1941.

———. The Music of Arthur Bird: An Explanation of American Composers of the Eighties and Nineties for Bicentenial Americana Programming. Atlanta: n.p., 1974.

Milne, H. F. The Reed Organ: Its Design and Construction. Chancery Lane, England: Office of Musical Opinion, 1930.

 

Recordings

Bird, Arthur. Suite in D. On Bird Songs: Romantic Chamber Music of Arthur Bird, North Texas Chamber Players. Eugene Corporon, conductor. CD (digital disc). Klavier, KCD-11071, 1995.

———. Suite in D. On Collage: A Celebration of the 150th Anniversary of the Peabody Institute, 1857–2007. Peabody Conservatory Wind Ensemble. Harlan Parker, conductor. CD (digital disc). Naxos, 8.570403, 2008.

———. Suite in D. University of Cincinnati Chamber Players. Rodney Winther, conductor. CD (digital disc). Mark Records, 7212, 2007.

———. Amerikanische Weisen, op. 23, Three Characteristic Marches, op. 11,  American Souvenirs Piano Music for Four Hands, Nadia and Vladimir Zaitsev, pianists, CD (digital disc), Gleur De Son-Qualiton/The Orchard, 57928, 2004.

Bird, Arthur; Dussek, Jan Ladislav; Liszt, Franz; Grieg, Edvard; and Onslow, George; Forgotten Piano Duets, Vol. 2, Tony and Mary Ann Lenti, pianists, CD (digital  disc), ACA Digital Recording, B004QEZC2, 2011.

September 29–October 2, 2013

Marijim Thoene and Gale Kramer

Thanks to Gale Kramer for his review of the student recital on September 30.

Marijim Thoene, a student of Marilyn Mason, received a DMA in organ performance/church music from the University of Michigan in 1984. An active recitalist, her two CDs, Mystics and Spirits and Wind Song, are available through Raven Recordings. She is a frequent presenter at medieval conferences on the topic of the image of the pipe organ in medieval manuscripts.  

Gale Kramer, DMA, is organist emeritus of Metropolitan United Methodist Church in Detroit, Michigan, and a former assistant professor of organ at Wayne State University. A graduate of the University of Michigan, he is a regular reviewer and occasional contributor to The Diapason. His article, “Food References in the Short Chorales of Clavierübung III,” appeared in the April 1984 issue of The Diapason.

Marilyn Mason—legend in her own time, musician and teacher of international renown, torchbearer for composers, organ builders, and students, ground breaker, and pioneer—was honored in this year’s 53rd Conference on Organ Music. Mason has been consumed by a magnificent obsession, and has shared her mantra “eat, sleep, and practice” with hundreds of students at the University of Michigan. The Victorian writer Walter Pater encapsulated her life: “To burn always with this hard, gem-like flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life.” 

The principal business of this annual conference was the celebration of Marilyn Mason’s 66 years at the helm of the organ department of the University of Michigan. Following this year of furlough she will say goodbye to the full-time employment that has occupied her since her organ teacher, Professor Palmer Christian, hired her on to the faculty of the School of Music. Over the course of the conference many of her attributes came to the fore: loyalty to the University of Michigan, excellence in performance all over the world, practical concern for scholarships and employment for her students, and perseverance in making things happen, not just once, but over many years. The organ conference itself embodies one of many events she saw a need for, initiated, and perpetuated over time, in this case for 53 years. Other long-term projects to which she devoted her energies include a large repertoire of commissioned organ works, and 56 Historical Organ Tours sponsored by the University of Michigan, which she initiated in order to enable students to experience the sound and touch of historic European instruments.

 

Sunday, September 29, 2013

The music of the first event of the conference, “A Grand Night for Singing,” featuring all of the choral groups at the University of Michigan—the Chamber Choir, the Orpheus Singers, Men’s Glee Club, and Women’s Glee Club, totaling 357 young singers—took place in Hill Auditorium and was filled with energy and beauty. The concert—the perfect way to begin a celebration of Marilyn Mason’s life’s work—was the first of the season, and also celebrated the one-hundredth anniversary of Hill Auditorium. The singers entered from the back of the auditorium and the audience of over a thousand fell silent as hundreds of singers walked briskly down the aisles and took their places on the risers. The repertoire ranged from secular to sacred: from scenes from Rossini’s The Barber of Seville to Sondheim’s A Little Night Music, from Baroque to contemporary, from a cappella to that accompanied by the Frieze Memorial Organ, Steinway, or Baroque ensemble. The level of performance of these choirs was truly remarkable, especially since they had been prepared in only nineteen days. Vocal blend, whether from a small ensemble or a choir of over three hundred, was rich, the range of dynamics was kaleidoscopic, attacks were precise, phrases were controlled, but most impressive was the power to communicate deep emotion that transported the audience. This was apparent especially in the University Choir’s performance of Stephen Paulus’s The Road Home, conducted by Eugene Rogers and featuring soprano soloist Shenika John Jordan. Ms. Jordan became an actress and transported us with her soaring voice.  

Several works were accompanied on the Frieze Memorial Organ and harpsichord played by Scott Van Ornum, former student of Professor Mason. In both Benjamin Britten’s Festival Te Deum and Ralph Vaughan Williams’ O clap your hands we heard a sampling of the vast color palette of the organ, from soft flutes to thundering reeds. Van Ornum deftly exploited the dramatic power of the organ to soothe, exhilarate, and transport. The hosts of the concert, Melody Racine and Jerry Blackstone, reveled in the music, especially in the grand finale, It’s a grand night for singing, during which they danced and sang. The audience was invited to join in singing with all the choirs directed by Blackstone, and accompanied by organist Scott Van Ornum and pianists Samantha Beresford and David Gilliland. 

In the evening, Andrew Herbruck played music by Leo Sowerby for his Master of Music recital at Hill Auditorium, offering an interesting survey of Sowerby’s forms and styles. Comes Autumn Time reflected Sowerby’s fascination with blues and his preference for solo reeds. It was a treat to hear movements two and three from the seldom-played Suite for Organ. In the second movement, Fantasy for Flute Stops, Herbruck played the repeated motif (which sounded much like a forerunner of Philip Glass) with amazing dexterity and control. The third movement, Air with Variations, showed Herbruck’s careful phrasing of the passages for solo clarinet. He played the Passacaglia from Symphony for Organ with a combination of restraint and gusto and made the performance electric.

Festival Musick (I. Fanfare, II. Chorale, and III. Toccata on “A.G.O.”)filled the second half of the recital and provided a glimpse into Sowerby’s ability to combine unusual timbres in dialogue with the organ. 

 

Monday, September 30, 2013

The conference opened with a program by pupils of James Kibbie: Andrew Lang (Praeambulum in E Major, LübWV 7, Lübeck), David Banas (Premier Livre d’orgue: Récit de Tierce en taille, Offertoire sur les grands jeux, de Grigny), Mary Zelinski (Prelude and Fugue in G Major, BWV 550, Bach), Paul Giessner (Organ Trio, no. 1, Lucas Grant), Elliot Krasny (his own Ascension, Descention), and Jenna Moon (Sonata IV in B-Flat Major, Mendelssohn). They brought out the best in the Marilyn Mason Organ, conceived by Charles Fisk and others in collaboration with Marilyn Mason in the years just before 1985.

Department Chair Kibbie introduced Dr. Karl Schrock, Visiting Faculty Member in Organ for the 2013–2014 academic year, and announced the appointment of Vincent Dubois and Daniel Roth as Visiting Artists, one in each of the two academic terms. They will each teach private lessons to all organ students and present a public masterclass and recital.

The afternoon session, featuring the students of Marilyn Mason, was held at the First Congregational Church, home of the 1985 Karl Wilhelm organ, Opus 97. When Marilyn Mason entered the church everyone spontaneously rose to their feet and clapped. She introduced Andrew Meagher, saying, “I admire Andrew a lot. He is the only student I have ever had who studied Schoenberg’s Variations on a Recitative with me and memorized it. I watched the score and he played it right!” (Schoenberg consulted with Mason during the writing of this work.) Meagher is a DMA graduate and played Bach’s Prelude and Fugue in A Minor, BWV 543, from memory. The other students are currently enrolled and played the following pieces with conviction and energy: Regan Chuhran, Prelude in F Minor, BWV 534; Renate McLaughlin, Le petit pêcheur rusé—Air and three variations from Air and Variations for Pedal Solo by Flor Peeters; Joshua Boyd, Jubilate, op. 67, no. 2, and Recessional, op. 96, no. 4, by William Mathias; Glenn Tucker, Trio Sonata No. 1 in E-flat Major, BWV 525 (played from memory); and Kipp Cortez, Fantasie and Fugue in G Minor, BWV 542.

The recital was immediately followed by Stephen Warner’s discussion of the history of the organs at First Congregational Church, with special emphasis on the current Karl Wilhelm organ. He gave some practical and useful advice on organ maintenance. 

Next we heard repertoire for organ and other instruments. Sipkje Pes-nichak, oboist, and Tim Huth, organist, performed Aria by Jehan Alain. We also heard music for organ and handbells directed by Michele Johns and performed by Joshua Boyd and ringers from St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church. 

The evening festivities began in the banquet hall of the Michigan League, packed with well-wishers whose lives have been profoundly touched by Marilyn Mason. She was congratulated and paid tribute to by David C. Munson, master of ceremonies and dean of engineering and computer science; Lester P. Monts, senior vice provost for academic affairs; and Arthur F. Thurnau, professor of music (ethnomusicology). The Reverend Dr. Robert K. Livingston, senior minister at the First Congregational Church in Ann Arbor where Marilyn Mason is organist, praised her, saying: “Her life is a model of a life lived with compassion and loving kindness, and dedication and desire to help mentor. She has followed the advice of Stephen King, ‘Make your life one long gift to others—the rest is smoke and mirrors.’ She has made a lasting difference to each one of us and the world.” Short reminiscences were given by some of her former students, including Michele Johns, adjunct professor of organ and church music. Carolyn Thibideau, dean of the Detroit AGO chapter, quoted Mason’s sayings: “A recital date always arrives” and “If you have a task that needs to be done, just do it and get it over with!” Tim Huth, dean of the Ann Arbor AGO chapter, said he thinks of the organ conference as “soul juice.” He thanked her for enriching his life, commenting that she helped found the Ann Arbor AGO chapter, which now offers scholarships in her name and has made her an honorary member. In thanking her, Tim quoted Meister Eckhart: “If the only prayer you say in life is thank you, that will suffice.” Mary Ida Yost, professor emerita of organ at Eastern Michigan University, recalled Mason’s raucous laughter, and jokes from her little black book. She remarked how Marilyn Mason is one of the most celebrated performers and teachers of the world. She is larger than life. She has changed the world of organ music for life. She is a living example of unending generosity, genuine respect, and kindness. Her greatest legacy is about the future and not the past—through former students of hers who play in churches and teach, generation through generation. 

She quoted Mason’s sayings: “Miss one day of practice and you notice, miss two and your friends notice, miss three and the whole world notices.” 

Closing remarks were offered by Christopher Kendall, Dean of the University of Michigan School of Music, Theatre, and Dance: 

Throughout her career she has shattered many glass ceilings. She was the first American woman to play a concert in Westminster Abbey, the first to play in Latin America and Egypt. She has concertized on five continents. On one sabbatical she consulted with Fisk on the building of the facsimile of a Gottfried Silbermann organ for the Blanche Anderson Moore Recital Hall. She has made definitive recordings, consulted with Arnold Schoenberg, commissioned seventy-five organ works, and mentored hundreds of talented students. Her studio will be named the Marilyn Mason Organ Studio.

We were serenaded with a carillon recital as we left the League for Hill Auditorium to hear a concert to be performed by former doctoral students of Marilyn Mason. The joyous music announced the celebration like a high feast day. Patrick Macoska played Menuet Champetre Refondu by Ronald Barnes, Triptich: Intermezzo-Fantasy, and Slavic Dance by John Pozdro, Happy in Eternity (passacaglia) by Ronald Barnes, and Evocation by John Courter. 

At Hill Auditorium, James Kibbie, professor of organ and co-chair of the organ department at the University of Michigan, began his remarks by saying, “Look around and you will see the legacy of Marilyn Mason.” He pointed out that she has brought the best students and helped place them in jobs; led organ tours throughout Europe; created the Organ Institute; built the Scholarship Endowment Fund; and found and unlocked her students’ potential. He noted that the greatest tribute of all is to hear great music performed by her students. “Her greatness was immediately recognized by Palmer Christian, her teacher at the U of M. Upon meeting her he announced that a ‘buzz bomb’ just arrived from Alva, Oklahoma.” 

The concert’s emcee was the witty and loquacious David Wagner, professor of organ at Madonna University and director of the classical music station in Detroit. He regaled us with his unforgettable and hilarious story of his first encounter with the University of Michigan Organ Conference. Sixteen-year-old David read about it in The Diapason, a gift given to him as a reward for a good lesson by his organ teacher in Detroit. David persuaded a pal to borrow his uncle’s Buick and drive around Ann Arbor until they found Hill Auditorium. He had no idea where it was, but was convinced they could find it. They did find it. When David got back to Detroit, the police were ready to arrest his pal for grand theft, because his pal had not told his uncle they were borrowing the car. Such is the lure of the organ conference! 

All of the performers without exception played brilliantly. Each selected masterworks calculated to mesmerize and enthrall. Shin-Ae Chun (2006), a native of Incheon, South Korea, also holds a bachelor’s degree in nursing science. She is an international concert artist, represented by Concert Artist Cooperative, and organist at the First Baptist Church in Ann Arbor. She played Miroir by Ad Wammes and Prelude and Fugue on B-A-C-H by Franz Liszt. Thomas Strode (1981), founder of the Ann Arbor Boy Choir in 1987, teacher of music at St. Paul Lutheran Middle School, is director of music at St. Paul Lutheran Church in Ann Arbor. He played Gaston Dethier’s Christmas (Variations on ‘Adeste Fideles’). Thomas Marshall (1975) has been a member of the music faculty at the College of William and Mary since 1981 and has played harpsichord in an early music ensemble at Williamsburg since 1977. He played Praeludium et Fuga in h, BWV 544 by J.S. Bach and a commissioned work for this concert, Dance of Celebration (“Mambo for Marilyn”) by Joe Utterback. Joseph Galema (1982) received his BM from Calvin College and his MM and DMA from the University of Michigan. He has been organist at the U.S. Air Force Academy since 1982. In 2008, he became an instructor in the Milan Academy in Denver. He is in Who’s Who in America and has toured throughout Europe and the Baltic states. He played Marcel Dupré’s Prelude and Fugue in B Major, op. 7, no. 1, and Allegro Deciso from Evocation, op. 37. 

Interspersed among the music were tributes offered by Professor Larry Schou of the University of South Dakota; Eileen Guenther, president of the AGO; and Professor Emeritus Gale Kramer of Wayne State University in Detroit. Larry Schou teaches organ and world music, and as dean of the School of Humanities oversees a faculty and staff of forty-seven. He recalled Marilyn Mason telling him to “Work hard. See life as others might not.” He remembered with fondness her workshops on Alain and Duruflé, and Almut Rössler’s performances and lectures on Messiaen. He thanked her for inviting his father and his colleague to her house for lunch, and for her work of sixty-six years. “Your performances, sense of humor, and prayers have helped so many people—they are to me a living legacy.”

Eileen Guenther’s letter was read. The president of the AGO expressed her congratulations to Mason, saying the lives she touched bear witness to her dedication to education. She thanked her for all she has done for the AGO.

Gale Kramer described Mason with words, varying in number of syllables from six to one, which poignantly captured her essence. 

Six syllables: “Marilyn Mason is indefatigable. Part of being indefatigable means doing something carefully many times without getting tired, whether practicing, repeating a joke, or commissioning an organ work. She has said a good teacher tells a student the same thing over and over in as many different ways as possible. Part of being indefatigable is coming back after a rest—on a pew, in the back of a bus—then climbing to the top of a spiral staircase.”

Five syllables: “Marilyn Mason is multifaceted, a performer, teacher, church musician, bon vivant, tour leader, raconteur, and friend.”

Four syllables: “Marilyn Mason is a visionary, evidenced in 53 organ conferences, 56 historic organ tours, and 70 commissioned works.”

Three syllables: “Marilyn Mason is practical. She realized it takes money to refurbish and maintain the Frieze Memorial Organ and to build and maintain the Fisk organ; it takes money to fund scholarships. And she is concerned that her students find jobs. At the breakfast table on her Historic Organ Tours, she would say, ‘Take some bread for a snack later on, you paid for it!’”

Two syllables: “Marilyn Mason is loyal to her students—that’s why we are here. And she is loyal to the University of Michigan. She belongs to a group of individuals who used their careers to bring esteem and glory to the university, not to people who used the university to further their own careers.” 

One syllable: smile. “We remember her smile, her exuberance.” 

At the end of the concert, Marilyn Mason was surrounded by students past and present whose lives have been profoundly touched by her teaching, joie de vivre, compassion, and kindness. 

 

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

We were privileged to hear Michael Barone of Pipedreams lecture on the topic “As Years Fly By.” It is always illuminating to hear Barone comment on recordings of organ music. He focused on composers whose birthdates can be celebrated in 2013. First on his list was Jean Titelouze (1563–1633) of the French Classical School. 

With the birthday of Johann Ludwig Krebs (1713–1780) we celebrate (maybe) The Little Preludes and Fugues. Barone suggested we check out other of Krebs’s works, including a Fugue in B-flat, which has been recorded by Irmtraud Krüger at Altenburg Cathedral. 

Barone also mentioned Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813–1888), whose set of virtuosic etudes for pedal piano has been recorded by Olivier Latry on Art of Pedal Piano: Alkan, Boëly, Brahms, Liszt, Schumann, issued in 2011. Kevin Bowyer, an English organist, has recorded the music of Alkan in Salisbury Cathedral. 

2013 marks the 150th birthdays of American composer Edgard Varèse (1883–1965), who studied with Widor at the Paris Conservatory, and Horatio Parker (1863–1919), several volumes of whose concert pieces, including the 21 Recital-Pieces, have been reissued. 

2013 also marks the hundredth anniversary of the births of Benjamin Britten (1913–1976), composer of War Requiem and only one organ piece, Prelude and Fugue on a Theme by Vittoria (1946), and Robert Elmore (1913–1985), much of whose music—reminiscent of Sigfrid Karg-Elert and Max Reger—is out of print. His Come to the Holy Mountain and Beneath the Cross of Jesus offer a richly emotional landscape, yet easily approachable. Norman McKenzie has recorded Elmore’s Sonata, written in 1975.

It was fitting that Michael Barone, one of the most informed critics of our time of organ repertoire and its discography, be invited to celebrate the accomplishments of Marilyn Mason. He began by saying: “Marilyn Mason has been with us through the ages. We are all her children, celebrators, and her debtors.” He pointed out that she has performed the music of contemporary composers: Searle Wright, Leo Sowerby, Robert Crandell, Virgil Thomson, Normand Lockwood, and Paul Creston (to name only a few) and has commissioned many to compose music for her. Mason was the first to record Arnold Schoenberg’s Variations on a Recitative and has recorded the freely composed works and partitas of Pachelbel on the Fisk organ. Barone played excerpts from her recordings, which included her program performed at the International Congress of Organists in London in 1957: the one solo piece, Concerto by English composer Matthew Camidge (1758–1844) as well as Sowerby’s Classic Concerto and Seth Bingham’s Connecticut Suite, both with orchestra. Barone concluded by playing her recording of a trumpet fanfare by José Lidon (1752–1827). He said: “To Marilyn Mason who has taken us around the world, and given us reason to practice, and given us an example for us all to follow.” With these words we all stood and clapped and cheered while Marilyn Mason gave us one of her unforgettable smiles.

James Hammann, DMA, former Mason student, concert artist, recording artist, scholar, former chair of the music department at the University of New Orleans, and former president of the Organ Historical Society, gave a presentation entitled “History of Farrand & Votey Organ with Videos, Recordings, and Commentary.” He prefaced his lecture saying that “This work was done for my DMA document and was encouraged by Marilyn Mason.” Hammann detailed the mechanical developments during the organ’s transition from mechanical action to electro-pneumatic, pointing out that the Detroit organ company of Farrand & Votey was the first to use intermanual couplers with tilting tablets. Farrand & Votey built Opus 700, now known to us as the Frieze Memorial Organ in Hill Auditorium, for the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago. It had 63 speaking stops and the same façade that it had when it was placed in University Hall in 1898. University Hall was torn down and replaced with Angell Hall and the organ was moved to Hill Auditorium in 1913. It was considered one of the largest and finest instruments in the country. Farrand & Votey built small organs as well as large; Detroit in the 1890s was an innovative organ-building center.

As we left Hill Auditorium we were treated to a carillon concert: Kipp Cortez, doctoral student of Marilyn Mason,  played Preludio V by Mathias Vanden Gheyn, Chorale Partita IV: ‘St. Anne’ by John Knox, two movements from Gregorian Triptych by John Courter, Image no. 2 by Emilien Allard, and Movement III from Serenade by Ronald Barnes. 

The final round of the Second Annual Organ Improvisation Competition was held at the First Presbyterian Church. Each contestant was given a theme to study for 30 minutes and was then required to improvise a three-movement suite no more than 15 minutes long. Judging criteria included thematic development, form, stylistic consistency, rhythmic interest, and use of the instrument. The judges were Michael Barone, James Hammann, and Christine Clewell. Each contestant played with virtuosic technique, and grasped instantly the possibilities of colors and timbres at their disposal. It was exciting to hear “new works” spun from their imaginations and to hear them played with such passion. It was no wonder the judges deliberated for almost 45 minutes.  

Devon Howard, private teacher and organist at First Presbyterian Church in Longmont, Colorado, and Douglas Murray, professor of English at Belmont University, Nashville, Tennessee, were runners-up. Aaron Tan, organ scholar at St. John’s Episcopal Church in Detroit, received third place. Alejandro D. Consolacion II, director of music and organist at Whitehouse United Methodist Church in Princeton, New Jersey, received second place. Richard Fitzgerald, associate director of music at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington, D.C., received first place.

Richard Fitzgerald received his undergraduate degree from Westminster and his MM and DMA from Peabody Conservatory in Baltimore; his dissertation was entitled “Method for Improvisation and Pedagogy.” He has studied improvisation with John Walker, Donald Sutherland, Mark Anderson, Ronald Stolk, Rachel Laurin, Jeffry Brillhart, and Peter Latona. 

Special thanks are due to Tom Granum, Director of Music Ministries at First Presbyterian Church for his gracious hospitality, and to Michele Johns, organizer of the competition, and her committee, Marcia Van Oyen, Gale Kramer, and Darlene Kuperus. 

As we approached Hill Auditorium for the final concert of the conference, we were welcomed by Joshua Boyd’s carillon recital: Summer Fanfares by Roy Hamlin Johnson, Music for Carillon, op. 107 by Lowell Liebermann, Reflections from the Tower by Emma Lou Diemer, and Easter Dawning by George Crumb. 

The closing recital was played by Tom Trenney who, from my vantage point, looked like a teen-ager. His recital was icing on the cake—played with intensity, gusto, sensitivity, and passion. One was dazzled by his flawless technique and the beautiful spirit that shone through each piece: Variations on America by Charles Ives, Scherzo, op. 2, by Maurice Duruflé, Air by Gerre Hancock, six movements from The King of Instruments by William Albright, Fugue in E-Flat Major, BWV 552 by J.S. Bach, Deuxième fantasie by Jehan Alain, and an improvisation on two submitted themes (Now Thank We All Our God and a newly created abstract theme). At the end of his performance Trenney was given thunderous applause and a standing ovation. 

After the first half of Tom Trenney’s recital, a surprise appearance by William Bolcom and Joan Morris paid tribute to Marilyn Mason with a lively and heartfelt performance of Black Max and (I’ll Be Loving You) Always.  

The 53rd Conference on Organ Music honoring Marilyn Mason’s sixty-six years of teaching was organized by Michele Johns. It offered performances and lectures of the highest quality that informed and inspired, and offered tribute to a beautiful life dedicated to performing, teaching and learning. Marilyn Mason’s energy, enthusiasm, sense of humor, and compassion are the qualities that have drawn hundreds of students to her from all over the world, and throughout the United States. 

The final photo is of Gordon Atkinson, a resident of Windsor, Australia, and an eminent composer and organist, who, of all of her former students, traveled the farthest to celebrate her lifetime achievement. He reminisced saying: 

I heard Marilyn Mason play at Westminster Abbey in 1957 for the International Congress of Organists. She played at the Abbey when it had only one general piston! The program was hailed as one of the great recitals of the Congress. Who would have guessed I would study with her for my master’s degree at the University of Michigan?

Marilyn Mason has been a Svengali, and an organistenmacher. Her countless students are literally everywhere there is a pipe organ to be played. Each person attending the conference was given a CD that included works from some of her performances with the Galliard Brass Ensemble, works played at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, and Pipedreams premieres.  In this gift we have a reminder of her virtuosity and artistry. In conclusion we say thank you to Marilyn Mason for “burning with a hard, gem–like flame,” and for sharing your radiance with the world and us.

Joris Verdin

Joris Verdin studied both organ and musicology. This combination is the reason for his preference of reviving forgotten music at the same time as he creates contemporary compositions. He has recorded over 30 CDs as a soloist, spanning many musical eras and styles. After various activities as accompanist, arranger and producer, he now focuses on the organ as well as the harmonium, and has become internationally reputed as a specialist. He teaches at the Royal Conservatory of Antwerp and the University of Leuven. Master classes, musical editions and articles are an important part of his activities—among them, the first complete edtion of César Franck harmonium works and the first handbook of harmonium technique. The Spanish town Torre de Juan Abad (Ciudad Real) appointed Joris Verdin as honorary organist of the historical organ built by Gaspar de la Redonda in 1763. He obtained the Diapason d’Or and Cecilia award from the Belgian Press in 2001, was named Musician of the Year of the Flanders Festival 2002, and is artist in residence at the Fondation Royaumont, France 2008. The author gratefully acknowledges the assistance of Chris Bragg, Amersfoort, Holland/Perthshire, Scotland, in translating this article.

Introduction
We can no longer refer to the 19th century as the “last century”; it belongs now, definitively, to history. As a result, 19th century music has become “early music.” Whether this is a positive or negative development I cannot say, but as a consequence of this music becoming ever more distant from our own time, the importance of collecting and preserving as much knowledge as possible increases. Such insights are essential for an accurate assessment of the surviving scores, texts and other sources.
This article will deal with several aspects of 19th-century French symphonic organ music, each of which can influence our appreciation and performance of this literature. Our perceptions of the repertoire in question are colored by such typically 20th-century ideals that it is now high time for the 21st century to contribute its own. As well as the currently typical philological (“musicological”) approach to the score, one should now evaluate the bigger picture. The context of French symphonic organ music as a part of 19th century music in general is an important concept for those who approach it creatively.

“Mon orgue c’est mon orchestre”
“French” is not difficult to define. It indicates, in general, the areas where the French language defined the culture in the 19th century: France, Belgium, parts of Switzerland and Spain, but with influences felt throughout Europe.
“Symphonic” has more or less the same clear meaning for everyone: we speak about symphonic music, a symphony orchestra, a symphonic suite, etc. Symphonic organ music, then, refers to symphonic music played on the organ, or music played on a symphonic organ. The first definition, in the sense of musical structure, requires no further comment. It is self-explanatory that the typical forms of symphonic music could also be applied to organ music. The second explanation describes the ensemble playing of different groups of instruments resulting in a cumulative sound-concept: that of the orchestra. This is nothing new, but still this idea has an essential importance for the sound of the organ.
The term “romantic” is often used in this context within the organ world. But what IS romantic? Is it a synonym for tempo rubato? For legato? Ad libitum? Senza rigore? In any case it has little to do with symphonic music, but refers rather to the evoking or expressing of extra-musical feelings. In this regard 19th-century music is no different than the music of any other period. An O Mensch bewein dein Sünde gross is at least as “romantic” as a Scherzo Symphonique. A Toccata per l’elevazione conjures at least as many images above the altar as a Prière à notre Dame. In fact, what we have here is one of those 20th-century ideals that color our view of 19th-century music: the term “romantic” was used in the 20th century to distance itself from the previous century, but today we are hardly aware of this. We would rather, therefore, speak about symphonic music and symphonic organs.
Of course some organs, mainly from the early 19th century, were “romantic.” However, the stops that were introduced at the time to imitate colorful instruments were intended as “decoration,” without influence on the sound of the ensemble, and therefore not symphonic. The “real” symphonic organ came about when the ensemble-ideal began to determine the direction of organ-building development. Solo stops remained important, but only on the condition that their function within the ensemble was of primary importance.
What would we think of a colorful Cor Anglais without the necessary Hautbois, just as in an orchestra? This is why one finds a minimum of solo stops on small organs. Not for nothing did Lefébure-Wely describe the harmonium as a “symphonic instrument”: an instrument with a compact and flexible ensemble made up of strongly differentiated colors. One of the consequences is as follows: In the context of the orchestra it is normal practice to hold sectional rehearsals. Why not then for the organ? Because an organist only has one head? But the conductor also has only one head and he allows the different groups to play beautifully together.
Symphonic organ music does something similar. The “symphonic organist” is comparable with the conductor; it is up to him to decide whether the oboe solo works with the accompaniment of the strings, for example. It is not the oboist’s problem in the first instance. The two hands of the symphonic organist behave in exactly the same way as the orchestra. The soloist determines his own expression while the accompaniment gives the framework wherein the soloist’s freedom comes to life. In other instances, where the orchestra sounds as one instrument to illustrate power and rhythm, for example in the scherzo or finale of a symphony, then it is the responsibility of the conductor to ensure that everything sounds together. In short, the organist must be able to adapt his way of playing to every musical situation. Insight, when referring to a symphonic score, is not limited to the study of the notes—insight dictates which voices may have freedom, and which may not.
The connotations of the term “symphonic” with regards to the organ changed substantially around the beginning of the 20th century. Initially it referred to the sound-concept it shared in common with the orchestra. However, with the reform movement in church music, and especially in organ philosophy, the term gradually began to become separated from its direct reference to orchestral instruments. The symphonic organ became “elevated,” even “spiritualized.”
Widor explains it as follows:
The possibility to enclose a complete organ in an opened or closed prison (at the will of the player), the freedom to mix sound-colors, the means by which to louden or soften, independence of rhythm, certainty of attack, equality of contrasts, and, finally, a complete expansion of colors; palette full of the most varied sounds, harmonic flutes, strings with beards, English horns, trumpets, Voix Célestes, foundations and reeds of an until then [until the organs of Cavaillé-Coll] unknown quality and variety. This is the modern organ, essentially symphonic.1
This has consequences for performance practice:

This is the way in which the organ symphony is different from the orchestral symphony. Confusion of the styles is not possible. One shall never again write in the same manner for organ as for orchestra . . .2
In other words, we see here a clear line of separation between the secular symphony and organ repertoire. Only the structural element remains important within the context of the symphony; the performance elements become different. They become adapted to the demands of the “modern” organ—distant and monumental.

It is not necessary to require the same precision and co-ordination of the hands and feet with the release as with the attack.3

. . . whereby Widor indicates that such an approach was considered sound.

L’Orgue Moderne
The French classical organ of around 1700 also had orchestral associations, referring to the orchestra of the time. Trompettes, cromornes and flutes were typical colors, but without the concept of ensemble being of importance. The irreplaceable Plein Jeu can be considered the most characteristic organ sound in this context. But the Plein Jeu is of course decidedly non-orchestral, far less symphonic. It remains a Blockwerk, a massive pyramid of sound. The Plein Jeu is also the first element that disappears in the 19th century. (The Plein Jeu as registration remains in use only in the liturgy, to accompany plainchant.) Of course the Jeu de Tierce also disappears; the sound is too nasal, and reminded the listener too much of old instruments with more overtones than fundamental. As a result it was less useful for the ensemble registrational ideal.
Now, an important difference between the classical and the symphonic organ can be found in the pitch basis of the basses, specifically in the pedal. The classical organ is based completely on the 8?. In the case of the Plein Jeu, a 16? stop can be used, but the tonal basis remains the 8?. The pedal specification is based on the 8? flute or trompette, not the 16?. The classical French organ shares this feature with the French baroque orchestra where no (or at least very few) double basses were used.
The great change happened around 1750 with the so-called “Concerts Spirituels,”4 where double basses were indeed introduced. From this time onward, French organs began to feature 16? stops in the pedal. This didn’t make the organ symphonic, but it can at least be considered a condition for an organ to be deemed symphonic. The pedal department of the symphonic organ is then just an expansion of the flutes and reeds at 8? and 4? with the corresponding 16? stops. The essential implication is that the “symphonic” pedal completely takes over the bass function.
One can see this in the music of Lefébure-Wely and his colleagues, for example Franck or Batiste. If one then considers that the pedal represents the basses of the orchestra, this leads of course to implications for the way in which the pedal must be played. The double-basses are of course played with bows, while the bass trombones, and tubas (or ophicleides in this musical context), represented in the organ by the reeds, are dependent on the human breath, with all the implied consequences for the initial sound. Total legato is, then, unthinkable, just as in the symphony orchestra.
This original symphonic manner of playing, that is to say not absolutely legato, is mirrored by the construction of the organs. Basses, by definition, sound low—in the lower regions of the pedal, easily accessible by the left foot. This leaves the right foot free to manipulate the cuillère swell box, which is found on the right hand side of the pedalboard. Legato playing in the pedal finds its origins when the organ began to become considered “sacred” or least disassociated from its human elements. It receives, then, an endless, eternal breath, more of which anon. From that moment the swell box and its position also changed: it became balanced and centrally located in the console.

La Peste de l’orgue
The swell box brings us to the following essential element of the symphonic style: dynamics.5 In the context of the importance of control and flexibility of volume in the symphonic “language,” it must be recognized that the increase of intensity, in the strings as well as in the brass, is reflected in the specifications of the organs. As a direct consequence comes the desire to be able to completely control the sound using a flexible mechanical system.
In order to be able to understand this better, we turn our attention briefly to the principles of expression in this period. The main factor when considering expression is dynamics. The normal shape of the dynamics is determined by the content of the musical phrase. A normal curve describes a rise-and-fall movement: an “opening out” from the point of departure, a climax, and a return to the initial point. To work against the gravity requires a certain energy—in other words, a general crescendo-diminuendo pattern is the basis for a normal musical phrase. The beginning and end of the phrase are determined by rests, or by slurs. If this was indeed the normal dynamic pattern, then its notation by composers was not necessary. It was only when the composer wished to indicate another expression that the change in intensity was expressed in symbols or words.
Over this basic curve are added the accents of a phrase. These accents were classified into three types, each of which has a consequence for the dynamic.6 The first is the metrical accent: this places the emphasis on the strong part of the bar. The metrical accent determines how the listener experiences the bar, and also determines the basic character of the piece. (In the current performance practice of early music, the metrical accent is omnipresent.) The second accent is rhythmic: it determines the rhythms or figures, further illustrated by upbeats, syncopation, subdivision of the beat, etc. The rhythm of the phrase requires a dynamic indication whereby the meter no longer follows a straight line, but instead follows an interesting and varied course. The third accent is pathetic: the feeling of the performer, or the transmission of this feeling to the listener giving rise to additional strong accents, independent of those already discussed. These accents can be notated in the score, but this is not necessarily the case. The essence of this accent is the experience of the performing artist who transmits the expression of his emotions through dynamics.
This phenomenon was already recognized, by Rousseau for instance, but it becomes a parameter of primary importance in the middle of the 19th century. A hierarchy of accents begins to develop. The pathetic accent becomes more important than the rhythmic, which in turn is more important than the metrical. The “virtuosity” of the swell box must be seen within this context. If one, as a consummate artist, wishes to able to express the whole gamut of feelings, then one must have complete control over the dynamics. Therefore the right foot spends ever more time on the swell pedal. (It goes without saying that this clarifies the great success of the harmonium.) In this way the organ gains the power of expression of any other instrument. This was essential to bring the organ out of the historical low-point it had found itself in.
The old joke that French organists could only play with the left foot was simply the truth! They were “left-foot virtuosi” and “right-foot virtuosi,” but the right foot remained on the swell pedal (certain Hammond virtuosi still have this technique). This is evidenced by an astonishing comment from Lefébure-Wely writing in L’Organiste moderne (2ème Livraison, Offertoire): “It is better to abandon the swell pedal and to play the pedal with both feet.” Dynamics therefore are incompatible with legato in the bass: with the “left-foot virtuosi,” expression always took priority over legato.
December 31, 1869 (the day Lefébure-Wely died) can be seen as the symbolic end of the left-foot virtuosi. The swell box became abandoned and both feet were now available for the performance of legato passages. The arrival of Widor as titulaire of St. Sulpice pushed the organ in a totally new direction. Widor’s succession of Franck at the Conservatoire further strengthened his grip on the organ culture.

Musica Sacra
The turmoil of the revolution and everything that followed severely affected not only the church, but of course everything associated with it. To recover from such a low point the church had to “pull out all the stops.” One of its best weapons was music. The up and coming bourgeoisie had set the tone as far as music was concerned. Musical culture was not only blossoming in the concert hall, but also at home. Those who wished to attract these people to the church were duty-bound to offer music that reflected that of the secular world. For those from the lower echelons of society, the church offered the only possibility to come into contact with the musical fashion of the time. This is the reason that Boëly was so unsuccessful—his music was simply too reminiscent of the Ancien Regime—and why Lefébure-Wely was seen by the parish authorities as a hero. This fashionable music brought the extremes of dynamic flexibility into the church. This was one of the most important aspects objected to by the opponents of the new church music. The problem, of course, was nothing new. Berlioz describes it well in his Traité d’Instrumentation (1844):

Without wishing to again stir the debate about the endless issue of expression in spiritual music, which above all should be simple (without a hidden agenda), we do allow the advocates of “plain” music, plain chant, and the non-expressive organ, to express their admiration when the performing choir, singing a spiritual work, delights with its sophisticated nuances of crescendo-diminuendo, light-dark, swelling, exalted sounds. They clearly contradict themselves; at least by their asserting (which they do very well) that the, in essence, moral, liturgical and Catholic expressive possibilities of the human voice, when applied to the organ suddenly become immoral, not fit for liturgical use, Godless.7
Berlioz was not the only figure to discuss the problem. One of the leading figures in church music, Joseph d’Ortigue, was very much against this increase of expression. He cited the swell box as the defacing of the godly instrument:
. . . all the attempts today to corrupt the organ from its origins and to rid it of its Christian roots, are no less reprehensible.
The ensemble of the organ—even, continuous, plain—determines, precisely because of these properties, the character of the plain-chant. The orchestral instruments, which, in a certain context speak to our feelings, have, in the church only a contrived and caricatured expression, but the organ, whose keyboard is cold and insensitive, has, in the same house of God, a grandiose expression full of majesty . . . It is barely more than 160 years ago that people tried to rid the organ of the majestic character it had, due to the equality and “planitude” of its accents, in order to introduce the nuances and convolutions of secular music which imposed themselves on the expressing . . . of the sentiments of man in his most earthly worries . . . some were not able to resist this fatal impulse, and, as a result the power of secular music has tried to impinge on spiritual music for nearly two centuries . . .
The organ is “monotone,” it is distanced from all earthly basis. But church music is just as “monotone,” that is to say plain, distanced from earthly expression, full of a calm and heavenly expression, and of the human breath; I say again, the organ and church music have the same character, just as they share the same goal, and one can say that the circumstances of the origins of both are just as sacred as each other . . .8
. . . this expression, which we view as destructive for the character of the instrument.9

The successors of d’Ortigue such as Joseph Regnier attack the “persistent allowing of the mouth of the public to fall open” through the “persistent swelling of the sound.” To quote him, “Your box is the plague of the organ.”10 Adrien de La Fage, the other authority on the subject of church music, stuck resolutely to a position against the opinions of d’Ortigue:

The expression gained through such a simple method as a box with louvers is a very useful improvement made available to organists and one which has long been desired.11
Over the question of whether all the manuals of an organ should be enclosed, Ply offers the following pragmatic answer:

Recently Cavaillé-Coll and Merklin have applied swell boxes to all the manuals of an organ, at the request of organists . . . is this a positive development? Or a negative one? The critics have not yet clarified the official position. As far as we are concerned we can not reject it in an organ intended for concert use. On the other hand we would not see it as useful should all stops of a church organ be under expression.12

The tendency against dynamic expression becomes more important from the middle of the 19th century. One of the most notable results can be seen in organ building: the cuillère became gradually superseded by the centrally placed balanced pedal. A protagonist of this static conception of dynamics was Charles-Marie Widor, of whom more anon. Lefébure also followed this trend to a degree: L’Organiste moderne (1867) contains few dynamic indications, certainly much fewer than earlier in his works, like the Meditaciones religiosas (1858); there are a considerable number of pieces without indications and his notated crescendi are discreet. What a difference from his earlier publications!
Incidentally, it is worthwhile to compare the sacred music of Lefébure-Wely with his secular works. One sees from the outset a differentiation with regards to dynamics: the church music is, in general, less flexible. A good example of this is to be found in the Suites pour harmonicorde. The second piece from the first suite “Roma,” contains a footnote that reads: “This Prayer can be performed, if desired, without expression (NB: Lefébure means the dynamic changes), as long as one takes care to pump softly where ‘p’ is indicated”—and at the end of the piece: “played by the composer on the organ of the Madeleine Sunday 17 May 1857 during the High Mass.” This teaches us two important things: First, that good composers made the distinction between church and concert; second, that Lefébure-Wely within this context created for himself a clear line of separation. His music is also clear evidence of the ongoing evolution of church music. A comparison of the dynamics of L’Office catholique, op. 148, with Vademecum de l’organiste, op. 187, shows a sobering of the crescendi and diminuendi.
This trend becomes more and more common in church music; and in organ building: less flexible swell boxes; in organ-playing: the increasingly common use of absolute legato; and the new organ schools that were founded under the influence of Palestrina and Cecilia: École de Musique Classique et Religieuse (École Niedermeyer, Paris), Kirchenmusikschule (Regensburg), École de Musique Religieuse (“Lemmensinstitute,” Mechelen), Schola Cantorum (Paris). The development is noted in the French edition of Riemann’s Dictionnaire de Musique:

About the real crescendo, comparable to that of the orchestra, that is today certainly not applicable to the organ. Maybe this is a good thing, as it led to the loss of the organ’s majestic “impersonality” and also, without doubt to the era of sentimental and pathetic organ playing.13
It is reported, incidentally, that Tinel, director of Lemmens Institute, solved the problem on behalf of that institution, by rephrasing the French term for “swell pedal” thus: “La pédale faussement appelée expressive” (The falsely named expressive-pedal).14

L’Ecole du Choral
The banning of expression of feeling in the form of dynamics is not the only way to improve church music. Another element is rhythm. During the first decades of the 19th century cheerful and driving pieces made a substantial impact: the polka, mazurka, boléro, march, fanfare are interspersed with light and restful cavatinas, serenades, nocturnes and romances. The musical elements of these pieces were used in order to bring a picture of the prosperity of the outside world into the church. In some parishes these pieces entirely dictated the mood, in others their application was limited to certain moments in the service. The believers arrived and departed to a march, during the collection the public were treated to a brilliant offertoire, in order, of course, to encourage their generosity! The versets and communions reminded the listener of the cozy Soirée musicale of the day before.
However, a reaction against such music also manifested itself, particularly from those who considered the churches only to be full of believers attracted by the mundane music. These figures went back to the sources of church music, such as Gregorian chant and early polyphony, preferably before Monteverdi and the “seconda prattica”—in other words, Palestrina. This aesthetic can be recognized by its simple rhythm, preferably made up of long note values: half notes or quarters.
Via this “side door,” the Protestant chorale made its entry. It answered musically the requirements of “real” church music; the associated text can be left out or replaced. The vertical harmony with its, ideally, affiliated melodic movement brings forth a new genre, the choral. A typical example is Gounod’s edition of a selection of Bach’s chorales. Their titles have disappeared, but each is commented upon from a harmonic viewpoint, such as le Ré bémol, c’est de la démence (the d-flat is insane) in no. 130 (Vater unser im Himmelreich).
The rhythmic characteristics of the chorale and of counterpoint became an element of good Catholic church music. Rhythmic sobriety, simple meter, and absence of whimsical interjections are typical. The real church music is differentiated from the mundane not only by the rejection of lively accents, but also through the rejection of clearly profiled rhythmic figures (such as in a boléro). This is clearly evident if one compares Guilmant’s L’Organiste Liturgique with his sonatas, or Lefébure’s L’Office catholique with his Soirées Napolitaines, or even Lemmens’s organ school and the songs written for Helen Sherrington. An amusing example can be found in the Messe Solennelle of Rossini: the Prélude religieux consists of a 120-bar-long string of eighth notes. Truly religious!
But we can also see this phenomenon in L’Organiste Moderne: the “strophes” on a Gregorian melody exhibit a uniform picture of equal note values with the comment “dans le mouvement du plain chant.” This trend is officially recognized in Catholic church music in the encyclical Motu Proprio, 1903. Among organists, it was Widor who, above all, explored and forwarded it. His early symphonies are firmly rooted in the brilliant style, but the Romane and Gothique are classic examples of the new religious style; inspiration from Gregorian chant, rhythmically calm, classical registrations without extreme effects, sober dynamic indications.
Another nice example of this differentiation comes from Edgar Tinel, not only an important representative figure through his position. He was the successor of Lemmens, after the latter’s untimely death just after the foundation of the École de Musique Religieuse in Mechelen. As its director he was in the midst of Catholic church music in a country which, at the time, provided a model in a number of fields for its southern neighbors. Because of this, Tinel had an important influence on the following generation of organists. His legendary speech to the Societé Saint-Grégoire in 1883 was published in Musica Sacra, the magazine of the episcopacy.

How does one create a good organist? . . . it comes down to determining what is good taste and to educate . . . what is appropriate to perform in this context . . . Some works written in a somewhat concertante style . . . are easily recognizable because of their joyful worldly style, of their lively spiky rhythms, their military tempi, dancing or overly fast. Sometimes it suffices just to survey which stops the composer indicates . . . Piccolo 1? and Bourdon 16? on the Grand Orgue, Hautbois with tremulant and dynamics on the Positif or Récit . . . these works—sometimes composed by famous people—are certainly not appropriate for use in the church, whether performed before, during, or after the service. The good taste of the pupil is formed by his study of the great masters of the 16th and 17th centuries: Frescobaldi, Asola, Pitoni, Fasolo, Hassler . . . also Palestrina . . . works where calm majesty and serene beauty are ideal encouragement for silent reflection. But these masters alone are not sufficient.
J. S. Bach and his school are also necessary . . . not the complete Bach of course, but the “Catholic” Bach . . . in one word, the Bach of the chorale. This “Bach of the chorale” has already been, several years ago, brought to the attention of Catholic organists, to their benefit. Mr. Ferdinand Kufferath . . . has published a book entitled “The school of the chorale,” a volume containing the purest teaching of the organ-playing style of the church.15

Their tempi
The separation of church and concert music manifests itself in another area, also noted by Tinel. Tempo plays an important role in the character of 19th-century music in general, and of organ music in particular. Here, we must differentiate between two levels, the basic tempo of a piece and the flexibility of the basic tempo during the course of the piece, the agogics. As a general rule, the tempo of concert music is fundamentally quicker than that of church music: “their tempo” speaks volumes. This of course should hardly surprise us, but it is interesting to bear in mind that this is reflected in the tempo markings notated by Lefébure-Wely, Guilmant and Lemmens. A typical example from Guilmant is a Marche for harmonium and piano: 69 for the half note; Marche Religieuse: 60 for the quarter—in both pieces the smallest note value is a 16th note. A comparison of the metronome indications of Lefébure-Wely in his Meditaciones religiosas with his opera indicates even more pronounced differences.
The question of tempo was then a vexed one in the 19th century. The review of the organ exams of the Lemmens Institute in 1882, written by Kanunnik Van Damme, one of the founders of the school, tells us that the public criticized the tempi of the performed works. Van Damme agreed that “certains artistes” had made the listeners accustomed to quicker tempi, but states firmly that such dizzy speeds often obscured clarity, and, moreover, were not appropriate for the church. In other words, in the church music school, a moderate tempo was taught as an essential quality in a performance:

through them [the pupils], the listeners admired the incomparable qualities of the Master, perfection in fingering, excellent use of the pedal . . . and, above all, the extremely steady rhythm that lends greatness to organ playing, is indeed for the organ, what the claw is for the lion.16
Here, the agogic aspect is highlighted. Worthy church music is as firm and immovable as the rock on which one can build. This tallies exactly with a review of Lemmens’s piano playing, cited by Duclos.17

Just like all great musicians he has, at the highest level, the feeling for rhythm, and his expression is not reliant, as with many talented famous artists, on freedom of tempo. That feeling for rhythm is so strong that he never, even in the quickest passages, hurries, and in slower passages never drags, a rare skill, which is at no time a hindrance to the warmth of feeling, or the unexpectedness of the poetry.18

Later we will see how Widor used these ideas of Duclos in his manifesto for the new organ culture. Widor liked to see himself in the famous line which, via Lemmens eventually leads back to Bach himself, but forgot to mention that, as far as is known, Lemmens himself never cited this link.
This brings us, inevitably, to the tempo problems of Franck. One statement we can make immediately: Franck’s “great” organ works are concert music; not a single title refers to the church. After his death, his works were saved from certain obscurity by their “declaration,” as it were, as church music. Pious tempi and discreet nuances elevated Franck to the “worthwhile” composers of the 19th century, and neatly to tally with Lenoir’s statue of Franck in the garden by St. Clotilde.19

Le Génie du Christianisme
The sacred character of the organ can only convincingly be accounted for by laying its origins in religion.
Just as with Christian architecture, the Christian instrument is an anonymous and collective discovery, just as a learned figure once said (M. Boyer, Notice sur l’orgue et l’organiste), the person prompted by the Holy Spirit to worship the supreme Lord.20
The literary source for this idea can be found in the manifesto of the revival of the Catholic Church in France: Le Génie du Christianisme (1802). In his short chapter about music, De Chateaubriand sets the basis for the purification of church music. He refers to Plato in order to determine the true basis of music:

Music is, in fact, an imitation of nature—art is cited in the same way. Her perfection is then the most beautiful possible manner in which to depict nature.21

The “real” music, produced by religion, contains the essentials of harmony: beauty and mystery. It goes without saying that these are lost through all human disturbances—“le trouble et les dissonances.” The closing sentence of the last paragraph would later be endlessly quoted: “Christianity discovered the organ and gave it breath.”22
D’Ortigue would also use this sentence at the beginning of his extended chapter about the organ. He goes on to add to it:

Indeed, the religious genius alone was able to make of the organ the wondrous instrument that we know, and with it the most complete and perfect expression of the Christian life, in art envisaged in the form of liturgy . . . antiquity, continuation, universality, unity, authority. As a monumental instrument, it represents the unchangeable elements in the structures of liturgical singing, in this art which develops independently.23

The Christian architect . . . with help from the organ and the suspended bronze, has attached as much to the Gothic temple himself, as the sound of wind and thunder, which rolls in the depth of the forest. The centuries summoned by these religious sounds, let their ancient voices sound again from the heart of the stones, their breath in the enormous basilica.24

Chateaubriand of course wasn’t alone. Victor Hugo (Chants du Crepuscule, about the “suspended bronze”) and Lamartine added their voices:

One cannot hear his deep and lonely voice/ mixes itself, outside the temple with the idle sounds of the earth ( . . . )/
( . . . ) But he directs himself to God in the shadow of the church/ his great voice which swells and hurries like a breeze/ And with voices raised unto God/ The song of nature and humanity.25
Finally, Ply published the text of the inaugural speech of the pastor of Clermont-Ferrard Cathedral, at the consecration of the new organ. Here, the ideas of “Le Génie du Christianisme” go rather in the direction of Widor’s “calme des choses définitives.” The text quotes “un auteur très-compétent” (and should you, the reader, know who this author is, I should be grateful to know).

There is in the thousand voices of the organ, in that smooth, supporting, enduring static mass of sound, something of the restiveness of the Cathedral, vast and calm like the ecstasy and adoration; something that flies as a “Hosanna” in an enormous heaven, something as unchangeable as God, a knowledge, a meditation of the unknown being, indestructible, from an eternal Word, the unending story of him who is.26

Widor had, just as did all his contemporaries, read all these books. The “organ-vision” of Widor fits precisely within the ideal of “Le Génie du Christianisme.” Therefore, the organ, and the way of playing it, had to become independent from human attributes (read “inadequacies”). There is in this context no place for the expression of personal feelings which have anything to do with sensuality, in the most literal sense of the word. As a result, no strong accents, no passionate crescendi, no excited agogics. In their place came a musical architecture with clear, straight lines, just as in the structure of cathedrals:
The great voice of the organ must have the calm of definite things: she was made for stone arches, and is reliant on natural proportions. Where orchestral instruments search for more or less neurotic virtuoso affects, the organ gains its maximum strength through the simple chord of C major, and with it the sound which seems to have neither beginning or end.27
Orgue is continuously written with a capital O, the supremely worthy instrument. Hereby the organ departs the mortal world and the organist depicts a new mysticism. In the early 1930s when Widor himself was rather closer to his own passing, he wrote in his preface to Felix Raugel’s Les Maitres français de l’Orgue aux XVIe, XVIIe, et XVIIIe Siècles, Recueil de 50 Pièces d’orgue ou harmonium:

When . . . the sound of this pipe shall become lost under the high arches of our Cathedral, taking with it our soul to the eternal, only then shall the organ truly be “The mystic instrument.”
The organist, due to the nature of his instrument, is elevated to the universe of the almighty.

When one can receive a note of unlimited duration under one’s finger, in all freedom, without the need to spare the performer’s lungs, when one feels, so to say, the master of time and power, then one has realized the true character of the instrument; of the language which it must speak, and of the style to which it belongs.28
How far away the 1850s seem now! The predecessors of Widor, whether Berlioz, Lefébure-Wely, or Franck, lived in another world. The ideal organ of their time is flexible, and is suited, just as an orchestral instrument, to the translation of the most refined nuances of the artistic sentiment. The organ and its music in that time really represented an attempt to break free of monumentality and stardom. In order to entice people into church, the organ had not to remind them of God, but had rather to reflect the human, the artistic, the refinement of the circles in which good was to be found, the earthly paradise. Dizzy luxury, blinding colors, sumptuous decors, all within easy reach of the man in the street. He who wishes to play Lefébure or Franck is best advised to read first a book by Zola, as this would give better results than reading a book about organ music or reading this article. The exuberance of this time and its music were banished by Widor and his generation. The technical means came first, the artistic consequences became sidelined:

She wants to sing in strict rhythm, this great voice needs rhythm, phrasing, a desire. Let us admire the cadences in Bach’s works which here and there break up the flow of the text, so that we may enjoy a minute rest. Whatever the movement, the Master shuns all suggestion of restlessness, and of hurrying. He never loses his calm and keeps his listeners with him.29
We find ourselves again at the rythme imperturbable, of Lemmens, elevated and stable, like a Grand Orgue. The accents described by Lussy are limited to the metrical and the rhythmic, with the resolute exclusion of the dominant pathetic accents. However, and precisely because of this, the organ gained its allure of greatness and eternity:

What string and brass instruments, the piano and the human voice gain through the bursting forth of the accent and the unpredictability of the attack, the organ gains as a result of its own majesty, speaking as a philosopher; it alone can display such an eternally unchanging volume, that it creates a vision of the religious and of the eternal. Surprises and accents are strangers to it; one lends them out, they are “adopted” accents.30

Through these words, Widor sets himself, for example, against the opinions of Berlioz regarding expression in religious music. Moreover this is completely in accordance with his rejection of Berlioz’s ideas about the organ: “Who informs Berlioz, which organist did he so unfortunately seek advice from?” (Widor, Technique, p. 176) This regarding the instrumental aspect, but it becomes immediately clear that this fits completely into a broader concept of the organ, which is resolutely against that of Berlioz. Though the citing of accents, and, as a result, expression, as being against the true nature of the organ, one must consider tempo and flexibility of agogics within this same context. The rigid structures of Roman and Gothic architecture are reflected in modern organ playing:

Rhythm itself will be influenced by modern tendencies: it shall become a sort of elasticity of the bar, though the essential elements shall be preserved. It will allow the components of the musical sentence to breathe when necessary and be phrased, assuming that it keeps hold of the reins, and that it keeps pace . . . And when the essential qualities of the style are defined by the words purity, clarity and precision, then we regard them as the basis of organ music.31

Provisional conclusion: the term “symphonic organ music” can be defined in very different ways. The whole spectrum of musical genres in 19th century music is represented. The repertoire is unique in its amalgam of profane and sacred ingredients. The performer must, therefore, continually make decisions. The listener can either follow him, or not.

Notes
1. Charles-Marie Widor, Symphonies pour Orgue, ed 1901, Preface.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Nicolas Gorenstein, L’Orgue post-classique français, Chanvrelin, Paris, n.d., pp. 7–11.
5. Joris Verdin, “The Organ: fit for expression?” in Het Orgel 2000/5, pp. 15–22.
6. Mathis Lussy, Traité de l’expression Musicale, Paris, Heugel et Cie, 1877, and: idem, Le Rythme Musical, Paris, 1884.
7. Hector Berlioz, Traité d’Instrumentation, Paris, 1844, p. 169.
8. Joseph d’Ortigue, Dictionnaire liturgique, historique et theorique de Plain-Chant, et de musique d’église, au moyen age et dans les temps modernes, Paris, 1853–1860; “Orgue.”
9. Ibid., “Expression.”
10. H.J. Ply, La Facture moderne etudiée à l’Orgue de St-Eustache, Paris 1878, facsimile Leonce Laget, Paris, 1981, p. 18.
11. A. de La Fage, Le Plain Chant, 2nd year, no. 7, quoted from Ply, p. 19.
12. Ply, op. cit., p. 19, note 1.
13. Hugo Riemann, Dictionnaire de Musique, entièrement remanié et augmenté par Georges Humbert, Lausanne, 1913, p. 235.
14. Musica Sacra, 6th year, no. 2, 1886, p. 11.
15. Musica Sacra, no. 12, p. 99.
16. Kanunnik Van Damme, cited by Joseph Duclos, “Essai sur la vie et les travaux de l’auteur,” in Du Chant Grégorien, ouvrage posthume de Jacques-Nicolas Lemmens, Gent, 1886, p. XXXVI.
17. Duclos, op. cit., p. XXXIV.
18. Recent research has revealed the anonymous reviewer to be none other than Fétis; see Annelies Focquaert, Jacques-Nicolas Lemmens: leven en werk van een organist, unpubl. dissertation at the Orpheusinstitute, Gent, 2006 (2 vol., 314 + 181 pages).
19. Joris Verdin, “Discussions on César Franck,” in Het Orgel 2001/2, pp. 5–9.
20. Ply, op. cit. p. 309.
21. François-René de Chateaubriand, Oeuvres Completes, Tome Premier, Bruxelles, 1852, p. 251.
22. Ibid., pp. 252–253.
23. D’Ortigue, “Orgue.”
24. Chateaubriand, op. cit., p. 262.
25. Ply, op. cit., p. 311.
26. Ibid., p. 306.
27. Charles-Marie Widor, Technique de l’Orchestre Moderne, faisant suite au Traité d’Instrumentation et l’Orchestration de H. Berlioz, Édition Revue et Augmentée, Paris, Lemoine, 1925, p. 188.
28. Ibid.
29. Ibid.
30. Ibid.
31. Ibid.

Addenda: summaries of the mentioned articles in Het Orgel
“The organ: fit for expression?” (Het Orgel 2005/5)
Dynamic and agogic aspects play a major role in 19th-century expression. In this article the first one of these is explored. Based on investigation of period literature we conclude that expressiveness, dynamics and the term “expression” cannot be separated, even are quite inseparable. The importance that is attributed to dynamics is not only documented in general publications about musical aesthetics (Lussy, Riemann), but also, and in the first place, in harmonium methods (Lickl, Lefébure-Wely, Mustel). This makes completely sense, as the harmonium is, among the keyboard instruments, particularly suited to control the parameter of volume. Several quotations from the above-mentioned literature show that there are general “rules” with respect to the dynamic curve of a musical sentence (the up- and downwards movement of crescendo and diminuendo), and that individual musicians, on the other hand, differ from each other, so each of them can individualize his playing.
With regard to the organ we conclude that Charles-Marie Widor represents a school with another point of view: the nature of the instrument, its location and its repertoire demand a less flexible, more objective kind of expression, which is described by Widor as “architecture.” Sigfrid Karg-Elert develops the notion of expression into an idea of transcendent art, in which controlling of dynamics is regarded as the most important individual means of expression.

“Discussions on César Franck” (Het Orgel 2001/2)
The discussions on the “correct” interpretation of Franck’s organ works are mainly a result of the difference between a certain a priori concept of Franck and musicological investigation. Whereas this concept is patently based on unverifiable “testimonies,” the musicological investigation, led by Joël-Marie Fauquet, results in a coherent whole. A very important aspect is the difference between church and concert music. Interpreting Franck’s organ works as religious music requires accepting some assumptions that are contradictory to the entire context of organ playing in France, as well as to the objective indications of Franck himself.

 

Matthew Power

Dobson Pipe Organ Builders, Lake City, Iowa

Opus 91, 2013

Merton College Chapel

Merton College

The University of Oxford, U.K.

 

by Matthew Power 

“That sweet city with her dreaming spires,” the words from Matthew Arnold’s elegy Thyrsis, are synonymous with Oxford. So too is its renowned university, the most ancient in the English-speaking world, first mentioned in records of the 11th century. The university has 38 self-governing and financially independent colleges plus six permanent private halls of Christian foundation. Founded in 1264 by Walter de Merton, sometime Chancellor of England and later Bishop of Rochester, Merton College was the first of Oxford University’s colleges to be fully self-governing; it contains the oldest quadrangle in the university, and now, the newest pipe organ, built by Dobson Pipe Organ Builders, Ltd. of Lake City, Iowa, and inaugurated in April 2014 as part of a year-long organ festival marking the college’s 750th anniversary. 

Benjamin Nicholas became joint director of music in 2008 alongside Peter Phillips, taking up the full-time position as Reed Rubin Organist and Director of Music in 2012. The dream of commissioning a new organ soon became a reality. Nicholas explains: 

 

In 2008 the choral scholarships were launched and it became clear that the existing J.W. Walker organ was either in need of a lot of work or replacement. The specification was good for the performance of baroque organ music but not much else, and we needed an organ capable of accompanying all the repertoire that a college choir needs to sing. The other inspiration came from the approaching 750th anniversary of the college. 

Once the decision had been made, a search began. A short-list of four builders emerged, with one firm each from England, Canada, Switzerland, and the United States. They all visited the college and submitted designs for instruments; it was Dobson’s overall concept and understanding of the space in the chapel, which enabled them to win the contract.

Ben Nicholas was joined by the Rev. Dr. Simon Jones, Merton College Chaplain, on a tour of eight Dobson instruments in the States, ranging from a modest church instrument to the large concert organ in the Kimmel Center, Philadelphia. “I loved the sound-world of all those instruments,” recalls Nicholas, “the warmth of their voicing and the way that Lynn Dobson had responded to whatever size room he was building for.” And the result? “The new organ has made a whole new repertoire possible—like the Parry Blest Pair of Sirens, sung at the dedication Evensong for the first time.”

Working overseas did not present a problem for the Dobson team, but the narrow cobbled streets of Oxford, and in particular Merton Street, did pose a challenge. The organ was delivered in a number of metal shipping containers and maneuvering these around corners involved the help of many people including the highways authority and the Oxford police! 

John Panning is tonal director at Dobson’s. I asked him how the organ’s position in the chapel affected the design of the instrument. “With an organ of much greater size than the previous one, there was concern that it shouldn’t have an overbearing presence in the ante chapel.” The organ stands in front of the west wall of the building facing into the quire, the other side of a screen designed in the 17th century by Sir Christopher Wren. 

 

There was an interest in revealing the ancient west window, some panes of which date from the 15th century. So we wanted to keep the organ as far west as possible, the case as low as we could, and the shape of the organ case was born out of these constraints. The casework could be described as “gothic style,” but of course no gothic organs of that size were built, so we had to invent a new grammar.

 

The casework has an elegant profile and a complex texture that invites viewing from many different angles. Unusual are the rows of painted wooden pipes set on the sides of the case, and appearing not unlike an English Tudor organ might have been. These are the basses of the Great 16-foot Bourdon, placed there to save space within, and to provide visual stimulation to, people entering the chapel. The casework is entirely the work of president and artistic director Lynn Dobson, from the initial designs to the ornate decoration. “The chapel itself reflects several periods of decoration,” says Panning, “from its gothic origins, to its classical screen and its 19th-century Victorian woodwork, and the organ case contains all these elements.”

Tonally the organ invites exploration of its stops in both their solo capacity, where distinctive characters emerge, and in ensemble where the blend is successful too. A danger that so-called “eclectic” organs risk is the ability to play any repertoire with only moderate success. The Dobson instrument must convince in all solo literature and its daily purpose is to accompany the chapel choir. What was the philosophy behind its tonal design? Panning explains: 

 

From the beginning an objective was to approach the organ as the servant of the choir. So many instruments of the last half-century were designed to interpret particular bodies of solo literature, and organs designed to accompany the liturgy were mainly overlooked. I find it remarkable that in Oxford there are very few organs that really could play a proper service. It is ironic though that what we [as American organ builders] consider to be our bread-and-butter work [building organs to accompany the liturgy] is hardly to be found even in the City of Oxford!

 

Of the instruments he has heard in the city, he reckons the organ in Wadham College Chapel, a relatively untouched “Father” Willis, achieves that best. Also, Kenneth Tickell’s recent instrument at Keble is in a similar vein to the Dobson at Merton in being able to adapt to all styles of music convincingly. 

 

This organ is built on a classical framework—the choruses of each division relate to one another; then it is enriched in a 19th-century fashion with colorful flutes, and reeds that have a more specific tonal direction. While there are some French reeds, there are also some closed shallots in stops where a French sound would overwhelm. The beautiful acoustic of the chapel made the voicer’s work very enjoyable.

 

When the chapel is not full, with perhaps 60 people present, the organ projects into the quire very much in the manner of an English cathedral instrument in scale and in how it supports the singing. Individual voices reveal a variety of characters, yet coalesce within the chorus with equal success. The Great division’s Harmonic Flute is a case in point; its generous soaring solo voice returns among the other foundation stops without obtruding. 

This tonal style seems to be what attracted Ben Nicholas and Simon Jones as they explored a variety of Dobson organs in the United States. What does Panning think they found? 

 

I think for them the aggregate was that these instruments were agreeable to play, with a tonal congeniality and you could imagine them accompanying choirs—that was the prime goal. The common thread found in all these instruments was of a “servant” rather than a “solo” organ.

 

Besides the new organ, an ambitious collection of new choral music has been commissioned and collected to form the Merton Choirbook. The idea was that of Michael Emery, a former organ scholar at Merton and senior producer of the BBC Singers, in conversation with Peter Phillips (known internationally as director of The Tallis Scholars, and appointed joint director of music alongside Ben Nicholas in 2008); Phillips retains his part-time post, conducting four services per term. Emery’s idea was to form a collection of new music to celebrate the 750th anniversary along the lines of the Eton Choirbook, including music by the finest composers of the day, mainly from Britain. For reasons of practicality the 50 pieces are all published individually by the composers’ respective publishers, and a single bound volume of the collection will be kept in Merton College Library. Premieres of all the works, mainly at Merton but elsewhere too, continue into 2015. 

The organ dedication concert was given on April 26 by John Scott (formerly director of music at St. Paul’s Cathedral, London, and now in his tenth year at St. Thomas Church Fifth Avenue, New York). Scott used a cleverly devised program to explore the facets of the Dobson organ as a solo instrument. A capacity audience packed every inch of the quire and spilled into the ante chapel. 

The program began with Modus Pleno Organo, a majestic treatment of the “Benedicamus Domino” plainchant and with unusual use of double pedal, implying gravitas from the outset. Sweelinck’s Fantasia Chromatica opened with the tone of what could have been a restrained English principal, with clear articulation and warm speech. This steadily lengthy fantasia was made continually interesting through Scott’s phrasing and pacing. Buxtehude’s D-minor Passacaglia was made to sound later in style with larger-scale fluework, the entrance of an 8-foot Pedal reed in the central section, and finishing with 8-foot and 4-foot flutes of fine clarity.

After tricky minimalistic palate-cleansing provided by Ad Wammes’s Toccata Chromatica (Echoes of Sweelinck), Scott delivered a flawless and compelling reading of J. S. Bach’s G-minor Fantasia and Fugue, revealing well-balanced independent parts. Scholars now think that the two movements only became the pair we know today much later (as with many of Bach’s preludes and fugues); reflecting this, Scott imaginatively interpolated the expressive Orgelbüchlein chorale prelude “Wenn wir in höchsten Nöthen sein.” 

The program changed tack with Franck’s third Choral, depicting a thick and powerful wall of sound from 8-foot reeds and fonds, and the very effective swell shutters came into their own. Peter Racine Fricker’s Pastorale exhibited the smaller reeds and tremulant, and its undulating textures benefited from Scott’s attention to detail and fine judgment in the long, perfectly balanced diminuendo at the end. A demanding syncopated Toccata by Simon Preston—who delighted the audience by emerging and taking a bow—contained scurrying pedal writing, which demonstrated quick speech. The program ended with a masterful rendition of Dupré’s Variations sur un Noël. Again, a perfectly good French timbre ensued, the large and characterful Harmonic Flute climbing high, and a final flourish was brought about by the celebratory Zimbelstern. 

The following day, a recital of baroque organ music, played by Benjamin Nicholas and organ scholars Anna Steppler (who graduated in 2013), Charles Warren, and Peter Shepherd, had a decent but by no means large audience. This gave the organ a chance to speak into the room as it will each day in term time accompanying Choral Evensong, its principal raison d’être. The tonal egress was certainly more substantial, the acoustical effect now of a cathedral rather than a chapel. The ubiquitous Toccata and Fugue in D Minor BWV 565 (attributed to J.S. Bach) was given a vibrant interpretation by Nicholas, especially in its imitative echo passages, and his rapid tempo still left room for some rhetorical surprises. Of particular note was the superb fluency and delivery of Anna Steppler’s Voluntary for a Double Organ (Purcell) and her musical phrasing in the Buxtehude Te Deum, which caused the work to sing. 

That Sunday evening, the Bishop of Oxford dedicated the instrument at Choral Evensong; the chapel was filled, with some members of the Dobson Pipe Organ Builders and their families in attendance. Canon Peter Moger, Precentor of York Minster, was the preacher, and the choir sang the Canticles in G (Howells), Blest Pair of Sirens (Parry), and the voluntary was Flourish for an Occasion (Harris). 

I ask John Panning what he and the Dobson team will take away from their encounter with Oxford. 

 

The opportunity to work in a space like Merton College Chapel is probably a once in a lifetime experience. It was an ideal situation; the college was extremely supportive, Paul Hale was an excellent organ advisor, understanding the technicalities and providing a bridge to the musicians at the college; he asked the right questions, not necessarily prescribing the answers. Ben Nicholas was very supportive and helped with suggestions during our work. The whole experience of building an organ at Oxford, and in a chapel with such beautiful acoustics—something that is rare for us to find in the States—was unforgettable. The inaugural weekend of concerts and services, especially John Scott’s recital and hearing the organ accompany the services, made for a very satisfying and emotional weekend.

 

Matthew Power gained an honors degree in music at London University and won the improvisation and composition competitions at Trinity College of Music, graduating with the Recital Diploma. He was Editor of Choir & Organ magazine for nine years, and works in London as a musician and writer.

Photo credits: Colin Dunn

Wayne T. Moore

Wayne T. Moore is professor emeritus at Auburn University, Auburn, Alabama. He received his undergraduate degree at Elon College, North Carolina, and studied organ with Fletcher Moore, Ernest White, and Warren Hutton. He earned his master’s degree and Ed.D. in music education from Teachers College, Columbia University, where he also studied piano with Thomas Richner.

In 1854, Richard Pohl, editor of the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik, reported hearing Franz Liszt in Weimar, Germany, play a combination piano-harmonium, a newly developed instrument built to Liszt’s specifications. In September of that year Liszt wrote to Bernhard Cossmann, the first cellist in the Weimar orchestra: “My monster instrument with three keyboards arrived about a fortnight ago and seems to be a great success.” Apparently, the instrument was never heard in concert until 150 years later when Joris Verdin, the Belgian harmonium virtuoso, presented a concert in Vienna on the same newly restored instrument.

The three-manual piano-harmonium is described in detail in “Liszt’s Monster Instrument: the Piano-Harmonium” (The Diapason, August 1970, pp. 14-15) by the present author. The instrument, weighing 3,000 pounds, resembles the shape of a concert grand piano. The piano keyboard is the top manual and contains seven octaves. Located below that, in stairstep fashion, are two harmonium manuals, each having a range of five octaves. The original bench and pedalboard of twenty notes, C-g, were apparently missing in 1912 and have not been reconstructed. There are sixteen stops, four of which are assigned for the use of the piano keyboard. Two large pedals to pump the bellows for the harmonium are placed to the left and right of two piano pedals.  Two vertical levers placed between the knees and pressed together sustain tones of the lower harmonium manual. A slightly different sustaining device that pertains to the piano is operated by two horizontal knee levers. When a piano reed stop is drawn and the horizontal levers are raised, a piano note or chord will also sound in the reed. It will continue sounding until the levers are cleared, even though the notes may have long since been released and the piano sound may have faded away. A lever placed in the left side wall enables a second person to pump the bellows when the player is using the organ or piano pedals.

Early in 2004, in a publication of the Vienna Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde (Society of the Friends of Music), Otto Biba wrote: “After Liszt’s death in 1886, Princess Caroline of Sayn-Wittgenstein administered his estate. In 1887, her daughter Marie, married to the Prince of Hohenlohe, gave the piano-harmonium to the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde in Vienna to include in its collection.” In 1938, the entire collection of instruments of the Gesellschaft was seized by Nazi authorities. After World War II, when it was placed on exhibit in the Vienna Museum of Art History, the instrument was not in playable condition. Many stop knobs were missing, the mahogany case needed to be refinished and the interior mechanism needed repair.

In 1994, it was decided by the Gesellschaft to restore the instrument with the financial aid of an anonymous donor. The ten-year restoration was entrusted to Patrick Collon of the Manufacture d’orgues de Bruxelles, Belgium. After the restoration was completed, Mr. Collon stated:

Although it is a difficult and complicated instrument, the restoration has been a great experience . . . it is slightly disappointing to realize that this instrument had little or no influence on Liszt, or indeed on anyone. I think that the main reason was that it rapidly became unplayable, and Liszt lost his initial enthusiasm. For correcting even the smallest hitch the piano had to be lifted off, an almost impossible operation. We have solved this problem by putting the whole instrument on a steel platform, with three discreet pistons inside, which can effortlessly raise up the piano.  Purists may scream and yell, but it was the only possible solution to an otherwise insoluble problem.

Joris Verdin presented the first recital on the restored instrument in the Vienna Musikverein on April 15, 2004. He included on the program two compositions that Liszt had played for Richard Pohl in 1854: “Ave Maria” by Arcadelt and Liszt’s adaptation of the “Dance of the Sylphs” from The Damnation of Faust by Berlioz. A review in Die Presse had the headline, “A Synthesizer without Electric Power . . .” An article in the Musikverein magazine stated: “Anyone listening to the instrument will understand Liszt’s fascination with it: His music sounds ‘more modern’ by decades, as Liszt’s extremely progressive harmonies in this previously unknown sound combination produce musical colors that we might have attributed to Debussy. We thus get to know an entirely new Liszt and also works by other composers for whom this instrument provides authentic options of interpretation.” Perhaps the reviewer refers particularly to the effects of the knee levers, the most innovative feature of the instrument.

Dr. Hanns Hermann Bühler, my friend, translator and correspondent, attended the Verdin concert and says, “As to the instrument, it looked beautiful, newly polished and perfectly played by Joris Verdin. I would say, however, that its sound is that of an instrument to be played in a music parlor rather than a concert hall. Maybe the acoustics in the hall were not too good . . . but then it stands to reason that the piano part of the instrument on top of the harmonium cannot have the resonance of a regular concert grand.”

While the instrument failed to live up to Liszt’s expectation, it is an interesting experiment and it is to be hoped, now that the instrument has been restored and improved, it will not remain silent for another 150 years.