Acoustics in the Worship Space XII

Schoenstein & Co., Benicia, California; The Church of the Redeemer, Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts

Two perspectives

Sterling Anglican music program, perfect acoustics, an engaged parish—heaven-on-earth for an organbuilder, but only if the right people are on board to help. Many of our projects have been aided by excellent professional consultants, but this one might not have happened at all without the steady hand of Sean O’Donnell. He was mentor, organizer, and problem solver. In addition to all the usual issues such as navigating the changing of the fabric of a beloved architectural gem to accommodate the organ, his diplomatic skill was an immense help to the rector in convincing the parish of the need for change even though the existing instrument was relatively new. We were very pleased when the parish extended Sean’s engagement to supervise all of the architectural, electrical, and mechanical preparations for our installation. A highly experienced and skilled organ technician, he knew exactly what we needed. He also followed the time-honored practice of the best organ consultants—leaving the musical decisions entirely to musician and builder.

—JMB

The consultant’s role

Next to the church building itself, a pipe organ is usually the most valuable and longest-lived asset a church will have. Acquiring or restoring one is a daunting task that has not likely been undertaken in recent memory, or even within living memory. There are a great many goals to discern, details to attend, and challenges to meet—to help with this process, the community will often hire a consultant. The consultant’s role is not to do this work for the community, but to provide the education, information, and tools the community needs to create an instrument that will serve their needs far into the future. The overall process is iterative: defining project goals will be followed by exploring instruments that meet those goals, but that exploration will inform, refine, and even change those goals.

As the project comes into tighter focus, the consultant recruits qualified firms to submit proposals, ensuring that the firms understand the unique needs and goals of the church. As the proposals are evaluated, the consultant guides the committee by providing resources to clarify concepts that may be unfamiliar, and by making sure that all aspects of the project have been clearly addressed. There are many musical options available, and many talented organbuilders. With the right information and a little guidance, a community can easily acquire a fine pipe organ well suited to their current and future needs, and even enjoy the process.

It was a great joy to work with Church of the Redeemer. They embraced the challenges and myriad details with enthusiasm and dedication as they worked through whether to restore or rebuild their existing instrument, acquire a vintage instrument, or, as they ultimately decided, commission a new instrument.

There was much to learn, and the first part of the process was a series of listening exercises, starting in their own church so that folks who sit in the same seats every Sunday (like so many of us) could listen from the organist’s perspective, from the choir’s perspective, and from various places in the nave. We even had a set of test pipes that we were able to install in two different instruments to hear how much the room affected their sound. From there we branched out, listening to organs in a variety of styles by current and historic builders. After each listening session, the organist and the committee spent a few minutes listing words or short phrases describing the instrument: words like clarity, mystery, clean, flexible, warm, etc. As they developed a vocabulary, we began to discuss which of those attributes they wanted in their pipe organ, and focused on those options. Through all of this the organs were demonstrated by the same organist, using the same set of pieces drawn from Redeemer’s repertoire.

Choosing from among the organbuilders who so eagerly shared their knowledge and creativity was the next challenge, and the committee ultimately commissioned the instrument from Schoenstein & Co. From start to finish it was important to ensure that potential builders understood both the possibilities and the limitations of the project, and that the organ committee had mastered the architectural and structural issues, scheduling and budgets, subcontracts and side jobs, and the many, many other details comprising a project of this magnitude.

With the solid support of the rector, Fr. Michael Dangelo, organist Michael Murray, and the church staff, and with the hard work and dedication of the organ committee chaired by the indefatigable Leslie Horst, The Church of the Redeemer has acquired a beautiful new pipe organ, supremely well suited to their style of worship. More importantly, it was a project they entered into with confidence and excitement and completed with pride, looking forward to generations of worship enhancing music.

­—Sean O’Donnell, Consultant

A great voicer is very much in the same musical plane as a first chair member of the woodwind section in one of the Big Five symphony orchestras. A great conductor in a great concert hall is nothing without great players. Just like artistic musicianship, voicing requires skill, practice, experience, and, most of all, good musical taste. Timothy Fink, an all-round skilled organbuilder, heads our pipe shop and shares voicing duties with Mark Hotsenpiller, our head voicer.

—JMB

A voicer’s vision

The Church of the Redeemer possesses a fabulous room for church music. The nave’s acoustic properties enhance sound in a way that leaves the listener overwhelmed, overjoyed, and ultimately sonically satisfied. What a treat for an organbuilder’s commission.

The room into which any organ sounds is its resonator. A guitar has a body, a piano has a soundboard, but the organ needs a room. The qualities that make this one so lovely are: cubic volume, proportions, materials of construction, and shape of reflecting surfaces. The room is of modest size allowing an organ of modest size to fill it with sound. The proportions are classic (the architecture is based on English Gothic), meaning they are not exaggerated in one dimension. Heavy masonry construction assures that the entire frequency spectrum is reflected and the variability of the reflecting surfaces breaks up these reflections, delighting our ears.

The result of these properties is a room with an ideal reverberation period—not a long reverberation period. The musical magic happens in the milliseconds immediately after the sound is produced. The length of time the high energy lingers is Early Decay Time. This is the portion of the reflected sound to which our musical minds respond. The nave at Church of the Redeemer reflects sound at nearly the full frequency spectrum for a generous portion of the total reverberation time.

The projection of sound into the room is important, too. The organ chamber is a modestly proportioned room in an elevated position at the nave’s crossing. The short side of its rectangular shape is open to the chancel with the long side open to the nave. It too is constructed of substantial masonry materials assuring all sound frequencies are reflected out of the chamber. Here we located the Great, Swell, and some of the Pedal organs. Below the chamber and in a space between the chancel and a side chapel, we located the Choir organ. The console resides on the opposite side of this arrangement giving the organist some hearing distance from the organ. Between these two the choir’s singers are arranged in the traditional academic style. Finally, 32′ and 16′ octaves of the Pedal Open Wood are located at the back wall of the nave and the south transept. This was done out of necessity since there was no room in the chamber for these large pipes. Much care was taken to harmonize these beauties with their surroundings. Sonically, they provide a thrilling musical “push” to the organ’s ensemble.

Tonally, the organ was commissioned to function in the Anglican tradition. Mr. Murray’s love of English Victorian and Edwardian tone provided focus to this scheme. It is in our tradition to provide new organs with plenty of foundation, but the multiple diapasons in the scheme might appear to be excessive. The idea here was to use a variety of Diapason tone for musical subtlety, not power. The acoustical environment highlights the subtle difference in timbres.

To make sense of this list of Diapasons consider the following: the Great Open Diapason No. 1 is the tonal center of the organ. It possesses the largest scale and mouth width and easily supports the chorus set above. Numbers 2 and 3 progress smaller in scale and mouth width providing subtlety of musical variation. This gives the musician exacting control over the tonal center of the organ. Choruses can be thinned or fattened, stop combinations adjusted for power, or the Diapasons can simply be appreciated for their sublime solo qualities. The No. 3 is also available at 16′ and 4′, further extending the possible combinations. Sitting above these stops is a proper Principal 4′ and Mixture 2′. These reduce in scale as the pitch rises assuring that these higher pitches are suggestions of the fundamental.

The Swell Horn Diapason “No. 4” is similar in scale to the Great No. 2, but with narrow tuning slots and higher wind pressure. These attributes give it a distinct quality that bends musically to the closing of the Swell shades. It supports a Gemshorn 4′, a tapered principal. Its hybrid tone quality allows chameleon-like abilities when combined with other Swell stops. Finishing the chorus is a Mixture 2′, small in scale and carefully pitched such that it will be properly subdued with the shades closed.

The Choir Dulciana 8′ “No. 5” is the smallest of the Diapasons but with a wider mouth. Its subdued yet singing quality coupled with its expressive location next to the singers begs them to sing along. Add the 4′ Dulcet and a mini chorus is formed.

The Pedal Open Wood 32′ serves as two stops. The 8′ portion is named Grand Open Diapason 8′ “No. 6” and is comparable in scale to the Great No. 1 but on higher wind pressure. Its noble solo demeanor demands independent appearance on the Great and Choir manuals. The 32′ and 16′ portions form the Pedal Open Wood producing a stunningly solid foundation for the entire organ.

With space diminishing, the organ’s flute stops are at a minimum but still well represented. Two harmonic flutes are provided. The Great Harmonic Flute 8′ soars down the nave to listener’s delight. The Swell Flageolet 2′ has harmonic trebles imparting its sound with both blending and power qualities expected of English full Swell effects. Three stopped flutes are available: one on the Great at 8′, one on the Swell at 16′ and 8′, and one on the Choir at 8′, 4′, and 22⁄3′. They find their distinction by varying the scale and construction. The Great Bourdon 8′ is the largest scale but made of metal. The next smaller scale is in the Swell and is made of wood with pierced stoppers. The Choir Leiblich Gedeckt is smallest in scale and made of metal with narrow chimneys.

Of course, space was left for the very necessary strings and celestes. The bite and warmth of the Swell Gamba 8′ combines seamlessly its neighbor stops. Add the complementary full compass Celeste 8′ (maybe a coupler or two), and heaven is in sight. Just for contrast, the expressive Choir Unda-Maris 8′ gives an added sonic dimension to the organ’s palate. While bringing the organ to a decrescendo another color can be receded to delighting the listener with unexpected beauty.

Six ranks of reeds were somehow incorporated into this organ. Three types of trumpets, a tuba, and two color reeds provide an extensive color palate. The Great Trumpet 8′ leans toward a French quality, assuring it will stand up with all those Diapasons. The Swell Posaune and Cornopean represent a time-tested Schoenstein combination. This uses a bright, larger Cornopean at 8′ with the smaller, darker Posaune at 16′ and 8′. (The 16′ octave and a 32′ extension, all under expression, are available in the Pedal.) The musical possibilities with this arrangement are endless. The final bit to sweeten the organist’s orchestrations, both stops can be drawn together on the Choir manual as the Tuben 8′. Countering this effect is a proper Tuba 8′—unenclosed. Its 16′ extension in the Pedal employs wood resonators of powerful full and dark character.

The Oboe and Corno di Bassetto are the color reeds. The Swell Oboe Horn 8′ combines with the flue stops yet retains the piquant treble quality necessary for solo passages. The Corno di Bassetto 8′ features well in its ability to render chordal effects along with piano solo melodies.

Rounding out the tonal palate is the Schoenstein action system. Each pipe is controlled by its own valve. This allows the transmission of entire ranks to another division without the use of couplers. Each division is designed to stand for its purpose. However, by carefully selecting stops to be playable on another division or extending beyond their assigned range opens a huge door to new tonal possibilities. It unlocks the musical value already built into the organ.

­—Timothy Fink, Schoenstein & Co.

—Jack M. Bethards, Schoenstein & Co.

Photo credit: Louis Patterson

 

GREAT (Manual II)

16′ Double Diapason 61 pipes

8′ Grand Diapason (Ch)

8′ Open Diapason No. 1 61 pipes

8′ Open Diapason No. 2 61 pipes

8′ Open Diapason No. 3 12 pipes (ext 16′)

8′ Harmonic Flute 49 pipes (Sw Horn Diapason bass)

8′ Bourdon 61 pipes

4′ Principal 61 pipes

4′ Octave (ext 16′) 12 pipes

2′ Fifteenth 61 pipes

2′ Mixture (III–IV) 187 pipes

8′ Trumpet 61 pipes

8′ Corno di Bassetto (Ch)

Cymbelstern

SWELL (Manual III, enclosed)

16′ Lieblich Bourdon (ext 8′) 12 pipes (unenclosed)

8′ Horn Diapason 61 pipes

8′ Stopped Diapason 61 pipes

8′ Echo Gamba 61 pipes

8′ Vox Celeste 61 pipes

4′ Gemshorn 61 pipes

2′ Flageolet 61 pipes

2′ Mixture (III–IV) 192 pipes

16′ Contra Posaune 61 pipes

8′ Cornopean 61 pipes

8′ Posaune (ext 16′) 12 pipes

8′ Oboe Horn 61 pipes

Tremulant

Swell Sub Octave

Swell Unison Off

Swell Super Octave

CHOIR (Manual I, enclosed)

8′ Dulciana 61 pipes

8′ Unda-Maris (TC) 49 pipes

8′ Lieblich Gedeckt 61 pipes

4′ Dulcet (ext 8′) 12 pipes

4′ Lieblich Flute (ext 8′) 12 pipes

2-2⁄3′ Nazard (fr Lieb Ged)

8′ Corno di Bassetto 61 pipes

Tremulant

8′ Grand Diapason 29 pipes (unenclosed, ext Ped 16′ Open)

8′ Tuba (unenclosed) 61 pipes

8′ Tuben II (Swell)†

8′ Trumpet (Great)

Choir Sub Octave

Choir Unison Off

Choir Super Octave

† Draws Sw Cornopean and Posaune

PEDAL

32′ Double Open Wood† 12 pipes

16′ Open Wood 32 pipes

16′ Open Diapason (Gt)

16′ Lieblich Bourdon (Sw)

8′ Open Bass (ext 16′ Open) 12 pipes

8′ Dulciana (Ch)

8′ Stopped Diapason (Sw)

4′ Harmonic Flute (Gt)

32′ Contra Posaune 12 pipes (ext Sw 16′)

16′ Ophicleide 12 pipes (ext Ch 8′ Tuba)

16′ Posaune (Sw)

8′ Tuba (Ch)

Gt & Ped Combinations Coupled

†Stopped quint pipes 1–5, open pipes 6–12. Resultant 1–5

Intermanual couplers

Swell to Great

Swell to Choir

Choir to Great

Great to Pedal

Swell to Pedal

Choir to Pedal

Notes

Intramanual couplers read through Intermanual couplers; for example thus: when the Swell Super Octave coupler is drawn, Swell stops will sound at Unison and Super Octave pitch on the Great if Swell to Great is drawn.

Manual Sub Octaves do not couple to the Pedal.

Mechanicals

Solid state capture combination action:

100 memories

52 pistons and toe studs

5 reversibles

Programmable piston range

Record/playback system

TONAL ANALYSIS

PITCH SUMMARY

16′ and below 3 12%

  8′ 16 64%

  4′ and above 6 24%

25 100%

TONAL FAMILIES

Diapasons 12 48%

Open flutes 2 8%

Stopped flutes 3 12%

Strings 2 8%

Chorus reeds 4 16%

Color reeds 2 8%

25 100%

Three manuals, 25 voices, 31 ranks

Electric-pneumatic action

Builder’s website: https://schoenstein.com

Church website: www.redeemerchestnuthill.org

John Bishop

Down front or up in the back?

My home church is the Parish of the Epiphany in Winchester, Massachusetts, where my father was called as rector in 1966 when I was ten years old. The song, “Winchester Cathedral,” written by Geoff Stevens and recorded by The New Vaudeville Band, was released in August of 1966, and Dad received several copies of the recording as gag gifts from friends (Oh voh-dee oh doh). I had three years of piano lessons before we moved to Winchester, but singing in the choir there was my first experience participating in the music of the church. The harpsichord maker Carl Fudge was the organist, and as I have written frequently, he had a lot to do with my early career choices.

The organ at Epiphany, the first I played, was built in 1905 by the Ernest M. Skinner Company (Opus 128), a very early and seriously rundown example of Mr. Skinner’s work. The church is brick, of Gothic influence, and mythically shares proportions with “the” Winchester Cathedral. There is a classic Gothic chancel up several steps from the nave, and the choir was situated in fixed carved oak pews on either side. The Skinner console was on the Epistle side nearest the communion rail, right by the little alleyway through which the congregation returned to their seats in the nave after leaving the rail. I started organ lessons when I was twelve, and my first experience playing in church was when Mr. Fudge allowed me to slip onto the bench and noodle a bit while he received communion.

The church had an ancient forced-hot-air heating system with large registers in the floor. If you were a clever choir member or acolyte, you would finagle standing on one, and your cassock would inflate like a dirigible. There must have been a history of choir members fainting because the choir pews were equipped with smelling salts. These fifty-five-year-old childhood memories bring a burst of nostalgia. I am thinking of Eleanor Banks, the burly alto in the senior choir, who wielded a hairbrush like a nunchuck as the robed junior choir filed out of the choir room. In hindsight, it was good none of us had lice—she would have spread them through the whole choir.

I left Epiphany at thirteen to begin my career as an organist, filling in at the First Baptist Church (with a three-manual Estey), then as organist at Saint Eulalia’s Catholic Church (Conn Artist—you cannot make this stuff up), and then in neighboring Woburn, Massachusetts (three-manual 1860 E. & G. G. Hook, a stupendous organ). While I was building my resumé before leaving town for Oberlin in the fall of 1974, the people of the Parish of the Epiphany were grappling with the condition of the wheezing Skinner organ. In that Boston suburb, we were in the heart and heyday of the tracker revival, and Mr. Fudge with his early music background was advocating a new tracker organ to be placed in a not-yet-built rear gallery.

 

Meanwhile, down the street . . .

The First Congregational Church in Winchester has a commanding location on a hillside above the town center and an immense steeple that leaves no doubt that the Congregationalists got the concept of “location, location, location.” Their much-rebuilt 1925 Hook & Hastings organ was replaced in 1969 by
C. B. Fisk, Inc., Opus 50, a three-manual, mechanical-action organ with twenty-seven stops. Mr. Fisk wanted to place the organ in the rear balcony, but the church insisted on a chancel installation. His solution was to build a very wide, very shallow organ on the chancel wall. In fact, the organ breaks out of the wall and looms into the chancel airspace. The keydesk is on the floor under the organ facing the opposite wall, and the mechanical action goes under the organist and up the wall to the organ. Large doors open into the hallway behind to expose the action. Originally, there was a setter-board combination action behind that door that has since been replaced with a hundred-level solid-state system.

John Skelton was organist of the First Congregational Church back in the day, and he was my organ teacher through my high school career. The church was a five-minute walk from home, and I had generous practice privileges, spending most weekday afternoons in the thrall of the music and the instrument, learning to wrap my fingers and feet around the notes. Mr. Skelton was a gentle and generous teacher who encouraged and nurtured my passion. I loved working with him, and I loved playing on that organ. In summer of 2021, my son Chris and his wife Alex bought a house near where the Skeltons live, and while I was helping Chris with some repairs and modifications before they moved in, I had a swell evening with John and Carolyn.

A new Fisk organ was installed at the Parish of the Epiphany in 1974, just as I was leaving for Oberlin. It started with twelve stops on two manuals, and seven “prepared for” voices were added in 1983. The parish made the difficult decision to move the music making out of the chancel. The new balcony cost more than the $35,000 organ (imagine, a Fisk organ for $35,000), and while some parishioners were unhappy with the change, the relatively small organ was given a commanding position in the relatively large sanctuary. Of course, people familiar with Fisk organs know that “Charlie” was not known for having trouble filling churches with sound.

I did not play as much on Opus 65 as on Opus 50, but I did play a few recitals, perhaps a dozen services, and my sister’s wedding there. I have not been in that building since my father’s memorial service eight years ago, but I will always love the place and value its role in my earliest experiences with the music of the church. I will also always cherish the privilege of playing such brilliant, responsive organs when I was a pup.

Those two organs make a terrific comparison, built five years apart by the same firm in churches a half mile apart, and placed so radically differently in their buildings. They are both vibrant presences. The chancel placement in the Congregational church is surprisingly successful, partly because the chancel is very wide, so the organ’s sound directly reaches a large percentage of the area of the nave, because the acoustics are lively, and because the organ chamber is barely three feet deep.

The people at Fisk have dubbed these organs “Winchester Old” and “Winchester New,” a tongue-in-cheek reference to the hymntunes for “While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night,” and “On Jordan’s Bank the Baptist’s Cry,” respectively.

As much space as you need?

I am fond of telling clients that there are two rules about placing a pipe organ in a church today. Rule #1: There is never enough money. Rule #2: There is never enough space. I have been in scores of older church buildings in which space was no issue. Think of a Catholic church built in 1880 seating 1,200 people. The ceiling is a barrel vault eighty feet up, so even if the balcony rail is twenty-five above the nave floor, there is still fifty-five feet of ceiling height. It is not unusual to find a nineteenth-century organ that is thirty-five or forty feet tall with a footprint of twenty by thirty feet with room left for a fifty-voice choir. Think of the grand organ formerly in the Church of the Immaculate Conception in Boston, now in storage. It is a rare modern building that will accommodate anything like that. It may be that the only chance of relocating such an organ would be to build a new organ from the pipes down and save the original voicing.

Even Gothic-style cathedrals pose serious challenges for organbuilders. The builders of the ancient cathedrals never imagined that people would be finding spaces for a hundred-plus ranks of organ pipes with all the associated mechanicals. The vaulted ceiling in Saint Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City is 112 feet off the floor, but the two 32′ stops are lying down in the triforium, the Contra Bombarde along Fiftieth Street and the (Double Open Wood) Diapason along Fifty-First Street. At Durham Cathedral, there are, count them, two big Open Wood Diapasons, both standing on the floor in the aisles beside the chancel, the sixteen-footer on the south aisle, and the thirty-two-footer on the north. At York Minster, the 32′ metal Diapason also stands on the floor of the aisle by the chancel, painted to imitate the stone fabric of the wall.

It is often problematic to place pipe organs in newer church buildings. The great interior height in many older church buildings is the result of the desire for proper proportions and the lofty superstructure that supports that high ceiling. Modern construction materials and techniques allow low ceilings to span great distances, and the economics of construction say that as a building gets taller, its cost increases exponentially. Are you paying $500,000 for each additional foot of height? Many modern churches are built without any planned accommodation for an organ, and plenty of architects do not know how much space and what sort of environment an organ needs.

The most extreme experience I have had with this was when a church in Virginia asked me to advise them about placing a pipe organ in their new building. I traveled there to find that although they had asked the architect to provide space for an organ, there was no place in the building to put it. The architect was present at this meeting, and he showed me a photo of an organ façade on the wall of a church and pointed to a space on an outside wall. He blanched when I told him that such an organ would be eight- or ten-feet deep behind the façade. It was an awkward moment. Disappointed, the church bought a digital instrument.

I view the task of evaluating a church building for the placement of an organ as harvesting space. Where in the building might an organ go? Can a classroom be converted to an organ chamber? Can additional height be captured by breaking through a ceiling into attic space? Will the organ be liturgically useful and acoustically successful if we put it there? In newer church buildings, we frequently find a sacristy behind the wall behind the altar. We could harvest the sacristy, open into the attic above, open the wall behind the altar, and make a perfect place for an organ—but I sure have run into opposition when I suggest taking the sacristy.

§

The people of Saint Dunstan’s Episcopal Church in Shoreline, Washington, were willing to rethink and redesign the front of their church to accommodate a new organ. I visited there in 2016 to consult with them and found an amateur installation of a relocated organ with two “flower boxes” perched on the front wall and an enclosed swell stuffed in an attic behind the wall. There was a waist-high wall separating the choir from the altar and two false walls projecting from the front, enclosing the choir in a pseudo-chancel. Jonathan Ortloff’s design for the new organ created a proper chamber front and center. All the artificial barricades were removed, leaving a wide-open, flexible space for clergy, lay leaders, and musicians.

Susanna Valleau is music director at Saint Dunstan’s, a position she has held since before the inception of the organ project. She reports that Ortloff’s design was quickly accepted by the church’s rector and wardens and embraced by the congregation. The new flexibility of the sanctuary has allowed growth in the worship life of the parish as well as opening possibilities for community outreach, especially a variety of concerts.

The chambered organ

In the beginning of the twentieth century, it became popular to place organs in remote chambers, spaces separate from the rooms in which they would be heard. This can be partly attributed to economy—you save a lot of money when you do not have to build a case. It also means that you do not have an organ cluttering up the floor of the sanctuary (if you choose to look at it that way). This would never have been possible as a wide-spread practice without electricity. Electric keyboard actions made it possible to have great distances between keyboards and windchests, and organists had to learn to play by remote control.

Electricity was also crucial in enabling organs to break the bonds of their chambers, thanks to the luxury of virtually limitless wind supplied by electric blowers. Remember, Widor wrote all ten of his organ symphonies for the hand-pumped organ at Saint-Sulpice in Paris, France. Organ builders developed techniques of voicing with higher wind pressures, producing ever-more-powerful sounds. While the wind pressure of a large organ built by E. & G. G. Hook in the 1860s might have been two-and-a-half inches or three inches, it is common to find five inches of pressure on the Great and eight inches on the Swell of a Skinner organ dating from the 1920s, not to mention solo reeds on fifteen inches or twenty-five inches. Air is the fuel we burn to create organ sound. When Mr. Skinner put his Swell celestes and Flauto Dolces on eight inches of pressure, he coaxed them out of the chamber and into the room, stepping on the gas by running more air through the pipes.

Today we can compare the experiences of playing and hearing organs in chambers and in free-standing cases. In fact, there are several American churches where you can hear both in the same room. The First Congregational Church in Columbus, Ohio, has a three-manual organ by Rudolf von Beckerath (1972) in the rear gallery and a four-manual W. W. Kimball (1931) in chancel chambers. What a wealth of organ tone to experience under one roof.

The chapel at Duke University has a four-manual, hundred-rank Aeolian located in chancel chambers and a four-manual, hundred-rank Flentrop in a high gallery on the rear wall. There is also a small Brombaugh organ tuned in meantone in a side chapel. The Organ Historical Society held a national convention in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, in 2001 during which we heard the ultimate comparison of organs with recitals on each of those organs in the same day—Mark Brombaugh played the Flentrop, Margaret Irwin-Brandon played the Brombaugh, and Ken Cowan played the Aeolian. The range of music played was profound, from Frescobaldi to Wagner and Liszt, and conventioneers got a real earful that day.

Prepare the way.

When an institution is planning a room that will include a pipe organ, it is wise to engage an organ expert in the design process. It is a rare architect who would have a deep grasp of the space needed for an organ. In fact, without real practical knowledge, planning the size of an organ is likely to be arbitrary. How many stops must it have? Would it have fewer more powerful stops, or would the tonal variety that comes from a larger number of stops serve the needs of the institution best? These questions apply both to churches and universities. If it should be forty stops, should it be electric or mechanical action? And how do you arrive at forty stops? Where should the organ be placed for best acoustical advantage and logistical usefulness? You do not want to place a mechanical-action organ with an attached keydesk alone in a gallery with choir seating on the floor under it or at the other end of the room. The independent organ consultant can help answer all these questions without the conflict of angling for the contract to build the organ.

What will be the electrical requirements? How much might the organ weigh? How are the building’s walls constructed to maximize their effective resonance? In a recent job where an organ was removed for renovation and returned to its original location, the flimsy drywall behind the organ was reinforced with new heavy material, and the effect on the organ’s sound was dramatic.

Because the pipe organ is a monumental instrument, it relies on the integrity of its building for the projection of its sound. The building must provide the organ a safe and solid home. Flimsy construction absorbs sound. Rigid construction projects it. The organ should not be placed under valleys in the roof that would be prone to leak. Witness that the Cavaillé-Coll organ at Notre-Dame de Paris miraculously survived the catastrophic fire in 2019; the peaked roof above the organ between the two towers protected the instrument during that horrible event.

In many churches, it is obvious where the organ should go. In others, not so much. When you are going to the trouble and expense of acquiring an organ, set the stage well and get it right.

Sebastian M. Glück, New York, New York; The William and Alice Stack Cathedral Organ, The Cathedral of Christ the King, Superior, Wisconsin

Sebastian M. Glück

Sebastian M. Glück, New York, New York

The William and Alice Stack Cathedral Organ

The Cathedral of Christ the King, Superior, Wisconsin

Ground was broken for the Cathedral of Christ the King on June 23, 1926, and the building was dedicated on Christmas Day of 1927. Elegant simplicity marks the neo-Romanesque structure and its campanile, built upon a raised platform and standing nobly against the Wisconsin sky. Romanesque architecture, which features thick masonry walls with small windows rather than large expanses of flexible stained glass, normally would provide ample reverberation and the preservation of most frequencies. The cathedral’s interior stood unfinished until a fund drive was initiated in 1937 to complete the decorations and furnishings, installing carpet in the sanctuary and sound-absorbing materials covering the ceiling and the upper side and rear walls of the nave. Despite the great cubic volume of the building, reverberation was annihilated, with a range of .94 to 1.0 seconds. The choir sang from a low-ceilinged gallery above the narthex, its voices struggling to reach the crossing with the inadequate accompaniment of a small organ with failing digital stops.

A new acoustic

In 2003, Rev. Richard Vosko was engaged as the liturgical designer, along with architect Robert Semborski of Architectural Resources, Inc., of Duluth, Minnesota, to begin a revision of the cathedral, with Scott R. Riedel & Associates, Ltd. of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, as acoustic and organ consultants. The choir was relocated into the Epistle-side transept, and the altar, ambo, and liturgical functions onto a raised sanctuary space that extends into the crossing. The project was completed and dedicated in February of 2005.

The installation of terrazzo paving and the removal of the sound absorbing ceiling and side wall treatments were initial steps toward doubling the reverberation time. A coffered, hard plaster ceiling and hard surface clerestory walls now result in clear, intelligible speech and more than two seconds of gracious reverberation. Modest amounts of sound absorbing treatment on the rear wall prevent unwanted reflections and repetitions.

Upper-level balconies and ambulatory spaces flanking the sanctuary were redesigned as organ chambers for a future instrument, and the building was outfitted with electrical conduits and ductwork in anticipation of the installation of a new organ. The former hybrid organ was sold, and the cathedral used a piano as their primary musical instrument after the building renovation.

In 2003 the Cathedral Organ Committee had selected another organbuilder to build a new organ, but the price of the large instrument was formidable. The project was set aside until Scott Riedel recommended that I review the circumstances, since he had served as the consultant on three organs I had built across the country and believed that a different approach would lead to success. Client, consultant, and builder were in agreement that if an appropriate heritage organ could be adapted to the situation, the timeline could be compressed and the budget reduced. I made it very clear that despite the prevailing hopeful mythology, a complete restoration or reconfiguration of an existing organ might equal or exceed the cost of a new one.

Over a period of years, I located and offered three possibilities to the cathedral. The first was a late Frank Roosevelt organ that I had purchased and stored before its abandoned home was razed. Future plans had not been finalized in Superior, so I incorporated that instrument into a 62-rank double organ for another client (see The Diapason cover feature, April 2018). Two substantial, serially altered Aeolian-Skinner organs subsequently were brought under consideration. Both of those situations were so heavily freighted with bureaucracy, politics, and interference by middlemen that a choice was made to redirect the search.

On another front, unforeseen circumstances made the cathedral organ project possible. A church in the northeast had purchased, under my direction, carefully selected ranks from organs that had been dismantled and placed on the open market. That client chose to wait patiently for the time when they could build the organ I had designed for them without preparing any stops for future installation. At the point of signing a contract, Hurricane Sandy severely damaged that congregation’s roof, existing organ, and organ chamber. Their pipe organ would have to wait until they restored their building, and the pipes remained in storage. An evaluation of the needs of both potential clients led to the sale of that pipework to the Cathedral of Christ the King.

The available ranks were suited to adaptation for an organ in the cathedral, with adjustments to the specification, some rescaling of the fluework, and the construction of some new pipes. The clear mission was to serve the Catholic liturgy, congregational singing, and the established organ and choral literature. There was no interest in adopting the whims of any particular temporary organbuilding trend that might prove regrettable in the future. The specifications were built upon the features held in common by the instruments of the important eras and cultures of organ composition and building. That information was filtered through the registration guidelines handed down by tradition, performance practice treatises, and the composers’ scores. Such tenets distilled the stoplist toward a practical design that endures rather than frustrates.

The musical blueprint

What began as a two-manual design grew to three manuals in light of how much substantive literature called for a third, and how the nuances of choral accompaniment could be expanded. During the century and a half that Americans have placed Choir divisions under expression, these sections often have been of nebulous conception and could not serve the literature. I walked the conservative path of an unenclosed eight-rank Positiv division in the Gospel case, with the Great in the Epistle case. These divisions enjoy the spatial separation of a Baroque Positiv in a dorsal case while keeping the organ entirely on one level for the sake of tuning stability. The interior of the organ features abundant lighting, broad walkboards, sturdy tuning perches, and secure ladders to facilitate its future care and longevity.

Pipe organs of moderate size can exhibit some predictability in tonal design if the builder is a conscientious steward of a client’s funds; each indulgent frill that supplants a requisite voice is an extravagant waste—a disservice to music, liturgy, and education. Instruments of this size can be conceived with measured additions to the safety of the template, increasing color and utility without being irresponsible. My ethical obligation to keep the instrument free of artificially generated voices served to focus the stoplist and curb tonal temptation.

The forthright core of the Great division is its Diapason chorus, with the bottom octave of the 8′ standing in the speaking façade. The large scale 8′ Harmonic Flute, which takes its lowest nine pipes from the Open Diapason to maintain open tone throughout the compass, is joined by the 16′/8′ wooden Bourdon unit and the Viole de Gambe borrowed from the Swell. The 4′ Spire Flute is voiced and finished such that it can be used in unconventional combinations with other flue stops for a variety of tonal colors. The firm and round Trumpet is an extension of the Pedal reed unit, and although a theoretical compromise, is not detected as such by the listener in the now-sumptuous acoustic.

The Swell division is located in the triforium of the Epistle side of the sanctuary, with shutter fronts opening into the sanctuary as well as to the transept behind the Great windchest. This second set of shutters prevents the Swell from sounding distant and directs its tone toward the choir stalls in the transept. The division is planted on a slider soundboard like the rest of the organ, with the exception of the reeds and the Viole de Gambe, which stand on an electropneumatic unit windchest.

The American Swell division, for decades gutted of its 8′ Open Diapason, is enjoying a return of this valuable pitch base. It is included here as a hearty slotted version that is immeasurably useful in the liturgy as well as in the performance of organ and choral music. The Swell Diapason chorus is marked by a brighter Mixture than that of the Great, and although it contains only three ranks, it bears two unisons and one quint throughout the playing range to maintain clarity in voice leading. Incisive French strings of slotted construction take their traditional places, and the undulant makes a good pair with the Diapason as well. The parent rank stands behind the shutter front near the Great windchest, as it is borrowed onto the Great to complete the quartet of stops for the fonds d’huit.

The choir of flutes includes the elements of the Cornet Composé. With only one tierce combination in the instrument, I felt that the mutations should be flute scaled. Principal scaled mutations cannot weld into a Cornet, yet the 8′-22⁄3′-13⁄5′ flute combination can, in a good acoustic, convince one that there is a Sesquialtera present. This places the Cornet in a position to enter into dialogue with the half-length cylindrical reed in the Positiv while still contributing to the Grand-Jeu.

The original plan called for independent ranks for the 16′ Bassoon and 8′ Oboe, but they were reconceived as a unit when the organ was expanded to three manuals. An unexpected feature of the capped, full-length 16′ Bassoon is that when drawn in the Pedal by duplex action, it sits beautifully beneath the strings, as a surrogate Violone, and adds color and pitch identity to the Pedal line in softer combinations.

The Positiv borrows a bit from the Georgian chamber organ and a bit from the Continental Baroque, but is neither. Open flue stops at 8′ pitch were common practice for the secondary manual divisions of Bach’s time and culture. The chronic omission of such tone, as well as the frequent absence of the 4′ Principal during the Orgelbewegung’s American manifestation, perpetuated an imbalance between the Great and Positiv. The utility of the 8′ Dulciana cannot be overstated, especially when it leans more toward an Echo Diapason than the type of neutered, bland string placed in American organs of a century ago. The two-rank mixture is not high-pitched, as the Positiv differentiates itself by its weight and texture without having the upperwork separate from the ensemble. The 8′ Clarinet is made of very hard black zinc and is notably bold and broad in tone, voiced brightly so as to work well in both French organ repertoire and its characteristic soli in English anthem accompaniments. The Herald Trumpet, which plays from this manual, is placed in the triforium on the Gospel side of the sanctuary and is the most brilliant stop in the organ.

The Pedal division is derived from four boldly scaled unit ranks and carefully selected mezzo-forte stops either borrowed or extended from the manual divisions, with the 8′ Principal in the Gospel façade. The 16′ Dulciana, extended from the Positiv, is worth its weight in gold for its utility and elegance, and allows for the forcefulness of the 16′ Open Wood Bass to fully undergird the ensemble. The 16′ Trombone unit, despite its brassy flair, is warm and round, and rolls down the nave dramatically. It is scaled and voiced for the Pedal, rather than being a conceptual extension of the Great Trumpet, a practice which can lead to inadequate support in the bass.

The visual element

It is a challenge to be invited to design and build an organ after another builder’s recommended alterations have been made to the edifice. A freestanding organ in a resonant case, recessed slightly into one of the transepts, would have been ideal, but two factors negated that possibility. Reinforced concrete platforms projecting into each transept were already in place at the direction of the previously selected builder. Worshippers and visitors to the cathedral had been looking at those empty shelves and gaping holes in the transept walls for a decade and a half, and expected a resolution. In addition, three fine mosaics in the Byzantine style had been commissioned for each of the building’s apses, and their beauty had to remain in view.

My series of concept sketches began with a sculptural “pipes in the open” array, which quickly revealed itself to be contextually inappropriate. As a preservation architect attuned to precedent and context, I felt that the mid-20th-century treatment was an evasion of artistic responsibility, so I moved forward by cataloguing the building’s architectural elements. One principle of fine interior design is that if stylistically disparate furnishings are placed in a room, the gesture is most successful when they are at least two historical periods apart.

The cathedral case design, as built, combines pendant pairs of pipe stockades with wooden casework. The former is a nod to what Midwestern American builders were producing for Catholic churches at the time the cathedral was built, and the latter was inspired by my walk-through of the permanent stage settings of Palladio’s Teatro Olimpico of 1585, in which he used classical architectural elements in forced perspective to create the illusion of greater height and depth in the built environment. Unconventional as this treatment may be, one has the sense that the portions of the instrument that flank the liturgical focus of the building were always in place and meant to be there. Rather than being imposed distractions, they tend to sweep the eye back toward the sanctuary.

Beyond the walls

When a church or synagogue asks its membership to contribute funds toward a major project, the campaign is most successful if it enhances the lives of those beyond the circle of donors. If pipe organs are heard only during religious services and are kept under lock and key at all other times, a barrier is erected between the institution and the inquisitive listener. The organ is one of many tools that can bring the surrounding community into the congregation’s sphere of ministry.

The area’s organists and academics have taken note of this instrument in part because it offers a new perspective on the performance of the post-Mendelssohnian organ repertoire without rejecting any of the structure of the golden age of the organ. In a region that until recently has favored the interpretive neoclassicism of the last century, organ students are welcomed to a new pipe organ of a more inclusive academic style.

Large-scale choral works and the hundreds of pieces written for organ with solo instruments or orchestra will be more authentically experienced in this peaceful, spiritual, resonant space. The Duluth Superior Symphony Orchestra, Twin Ports Wind Orchestra, Lake Superior Chamber Orchestra, Duluth-Superior Symphony Chorus, Superior Diocesan Chorale, and myriad collegiate ensembles have a new resource through which to expand and vitalize the musical life of the region.

—Sebastian Glück

Personnel:

Sebastian M. Glück, Artistic and Tonal Director

Albert Jensen-Moulton, General Manager

Robert Ahlborg

Joseph DiSalle

Keith Goss

Dominic Inferrera

John Kawa

Robert Rast

William Wildenberg

David Winek

 

Suppliers:

Organ Supply Industries, A. R. Schopp’s Sons, Syndyne, Peterson Electro-Musical Products

 

GREAT – Manual II

16′ Bourdon (ext 8′) 12 pipes

8′ Open Diapason 58 pipes

8′ Bourdon 58 pipes

8′ Harmonic Flute (a) 49 pipes

8′ Viole de Gambe Swell

4′ Principal 58 pipes

4′ Spire Flute 58 pipes

2′ Fifteenth 58 pipes

Chorus Mixture IV 232 pipes

8′ Trumpet (b) 14 pipes

Tremulant

8′ Clarinet Positiv

8′ Herald Trumpet Positiv

Great Silent

SWELL – Manual III – enclosed

8′ Open Diapason 58 pipes

8′ Stopped Diapason 58 pipes

8′ Viole de Gambe 58 pipes

8′ Voix Céleste (TC) 46 pipes

4′ Principal 58 pipes

4′ Harmonic Flute 58 pipes

22⁄3′ Nazard 58 pipes

2′ Quarte de Nazard 58 pipes

13⁄5′ Tierce 58 pipes

Mixture III 174 pipes

16′ Bassoon (ext 8′) 12 pipes

8′ Trumpet 58 pipes

8′ Oboe 58 pipes

  Tremulant

16′ Swell to Swell

4′ Swell to Swell

POSITIV – Manual I

8′ Viole de Gambe Swell

8′ Dulciana 58 pipes

8′ Holzgedeckt 58 pipes

4′ Principal 58 pipes

4′ Chimney Flute 58 pipes

2′ Recorder 58 pipes

Sharp Mixture II 116 pipes

8′ Clarinet 58 pipes

Tremulant

8′ Trumpet Great

8′ Oboe Swell

16′ Herald Trumpet (fr 8′) 

8′ Herald Trumpet 58 pipes

Positiv Silent

PEDAL

32′ Untersatz (c)

16′ Open Wood Bass 32 pipes

16′ Dulciana (ext Pos 8′) 12 pipes

16′ Sub Bass 32 pipes

16′ Bourdon Great

8′ Principal 32 pipes

8′ Sub Bass (ext 16′) 12 pipes

8′ Viola Swell

8′ Dulciana Positiv

8′ Bourdon Great

4′ Fifteenth (ext 8′) 12 pipes

4′ Flute Great

16′ Trombone 32 pipes

16′ Bassoon Swell

8′ Trumpet (ext 16′) 12 pipes

8′ Bassoon Swell

4′ Clarion (ext 16′) 12 pipes

4′ Clarinet Positiv

8′ Great to Pedal

8′ Swell to Pedal

4′ Swell to Pedal

8′ Positiv to Pedal

16′ Swell to Great

8′ Swell to Great

4′ Swell to Great

8′ Positiv to Great

8′ Swell to Positiv

Great/Positiv Transfer

(a) C1–G#9 from 8′ Open Diapason

(b) extension of Pedal Trombone unit

(c) C1–B12 resultant from Open Wood Bass

 

Three manuals, 37 ranks, 2,107 pipes

Positiv Sharp Mixture II

C1 19.22

C25 15.19

F#31 12.15

A46 08.15

 

Swell Mixture III

C1 15.19.22

C13 12.15.22

C37 08.12.15

C49 01.08.12

 

Great Chorus Mixture IV

C1 19.22.26.29

C13 15.19.22.26

G#33 12.15.19.22

F#43 08.12.15.19

C#51 05.08.12.15

 

Builder’s website: www.gluckpipeorgans.com

Cathedral website: https://superiorcathedral.org

Photo by John Kawa.

M. P. Rathke, Inc., Cincinnati, Ohio; Grace Episcopal Church, Carthage, Missouri

From the builder

When Father Steven Wilson, rector of Grace Church, first invited us to submit a proposal for a new pipe organ, he had my undivided attention from the start. Father Steve spoke of a historic 1869 Episcopal church with a distinguished tradition of liturgy and music, as well as a longtime focus on drama and the visual arts. Subsequent conversations led to the commissioning of our Opus 12, whose future arrival both church and organ builder looked forward to with fine enthusiasm.

First, though, we were challenged with designing a successful organ for a dry acoustic, in a space as compact and intimate as it is beautiful, and likely utilizing a somewhat unorthodox placement. Father Steve quipped that our reputation for engineering 10 lbs. to fit the proverbial 5-lb. bag would surely be tested here, and his words were to prove prescient.

Precisely where the organ would go was our first decision. The existing instrument, a decaying pipe/electronic combination whose metal pipework was nonetheless of extraordinary quality, if not voiced to its full potential, included a set of deep flower box-style windchests hung from the end wall of a shallow transept (see photo: “Removing pipework”). This singular arrangement did locate pipework high in the room, thus engaging the ceiling and helping carry sound out into the nave; it also created rather a claustrophobic atmosphere, looming darkly over choristers below, blocking light from a trio of high windows above, and literally overshadowing the transept. My first reaction—which some might consider unusual for an organbuilder—was “Father Steve, whatever we do, we’ve got to uncover those windows and get those pipes down off the wall.” Easily enough said, of course, but then where could they go, with floor space already at a premium?

The building helped make that decision for us. There was really only one location suitable for the choir in this small church: the transept, where the choir already sat. And the organ clearly needed to be close to the choir, not only for musical reasons, but also so that organist/choirmaster Peter Frost could continue to conduct from the console. Father Steve, himself a talented chorister, saw potential benefits in my suggestion that the main organ case be located per Sketch A, with the attached keydesk oriented as shown.

This is admittedly an unusual blind-corner placement for any significant portion of a pipe organ, let alone the sole two manual divisions, whose resources generally speak to better advantage directly into the main body of the church. But in this case, because the room is quite dry and because we had no opportunity to place manual pipework behind a façade fronting the swell shades—there simply wasn’t enough available depth without crowding the window—we were keen to obtain maximum blend by any legitimate means. It occurred to me that if we allowed sound to mix first in the transept, then reflect once off the front wall, both blend and projection might be served. And that’s exactly what happened. Early listening during finish voicing disclosed the uncanny illusion that all sound was actually emanating from the front walls (somehow!), producing a clarity and presence in the nave that both puzzled and pleased us.

Grace Church’s lack of acoustical resonance also informed Opus 12’s size and specification, for this is certainly a good-sized organ for a relatively small room. Although sound generally gets around well enough, music doesn’t really bloom, and appreciable reverberation is basically nonexistent. Never having previously designed and voiced for a space like this, I went back to the stately Hook & Hastings instruments I knew, played, and admired during my apprenticeship with C. B. Fisk, Inc.
H & H’s general approach, which greatly informed our work at Grace Church, was to saturate the space with plenty of rich fundamental tone, undergirded by manual doubles (here, one in each department) and supported by a generously scaled and winded Pedal. Reeds would almost invariably be on the smoother side, upperwork colorful but by no means aggressive.

Guided by Dr. Susan Marchant of nearby Pittsburg State University, the church settled on a two-manual, 24-stop specification with suspended mechanical key action, apart from the largest bass pipes, which are winded via conventional electro-pneumatic chests. Most of these large pipes reside in the so-called “Attic Pedal” division behind a speaking tin façade fronting a shallow chamber with limited headroom. Most interior Attic Pedal pipes are thus placed horizontally, as are notes #1–19 of the Great 16′ Bourdon, the latter located beneath the choir platform. The full-length 16′ Double Trumpet stands within the main case.

The pipework has truly eclectic origins. From the previous instrument we retained six choice ranks of 30% tin, superbly crafted by Stinkens, the renowned Dutch pipemaking firm. (The original voicers having really done no meaningful voicing, we were able to start essentially from scratch with fresh, unvoiced pipes.) Several lovely stops of pine, poplar, and oak were acquired from a church that was set to be demolished in a neighboring town. The remainder of Opus 12’s pipework is new.

Casework design was the result of a close and lengthy collaborative effort between Father Steve and me. Happily, both of us wished the organ to look as if it had always been there. The results reflect Father Steve’s and my firm conviction that, where possible, an organ’s casework and ornamentation should be in congenial dialogue with the room’s architecture and appointments.

Carvings were designed and executed by noted Boston-area sculptor Morgan Faulds Pike, who wrote the following in preparation for the organ’s dedication:

The carved white oak panels—above the console, above the swell shades, and in the attic pedal case—represent flora and fauna which symbolically resonate with the church interior, the city of Carthage, and, most endearingly, Father Steven Wilson’s specific requests for a carefully camouflaged “sparrow and her nest” (Psalm 84:3) and “somewhere, a little mouse.” Our design process was a stimulating collaboration from which Father Steve’s wishes and my design drawings produced something more like a working friendship than a design challenge.

The Alpha and Omega shades on the Attic Pedal directly relate to other A & Ω carvings in the room. The maple and oak leaf designs are representative of Carthage, Missouri (“The Maple Leaf City”) and the organ’s quartered oak casework, respectively. Above the console two panels, one depicting a Marian rose, the other the ancient Holly and Ivy of pre-Christian ritual, echo motifs that appear in more simplified forms elsewhere in the church. The designs evolved in keeping with Father Steve’s desire for the case to have everything to do with the church interior and the greater community; I must say here that they also reflect his own remarkable and unselfconscious aura of holiness. He wished the sparrow and her nest to be discretely perched within one of the swell façade shades, to be discovered only after some study. We based the sparrow on a North American song sparrow that was nesting at the time in a bush beneath Father Steve’s window. Her beautiful song might just allude to the choir singing beneath her perch above the swell louvres. The mouse, “a creature of great personal valor,” is a cheeky surprise, clinging to the lower frame of an otherwise-smooth front pipe shade.

This organ has been at once the most difficult and most rewarding we’ve ever undertaken, owing partly to the fact that so much of it is densely woven into the fabric of this lovely historic structure, one where nothing is truly level, plumb, or square. We thank the parishioners and staff of Grace Church for their unswerving support, friendship, and patience during installation and finish voicing. We sincerely hope our Opus 12 will serve this remarkable church for years to come.

—Michael Rathke

Builders of the organ

Saskia Croé

Rebecca Madison

Lauren McAllister

Stella O’Neill

Michael Rathke

Caleb Ringwald

Jefimija Zlatanovic

 

We are deeply grateful to the following individuals and organizations:

†The Reverend Steven Wilson (project leadership)

Dr. Susan Marchant (consultation)

Brad White (technical assistance)

Peter Frost (onsite voicing assistance)

Paige Rhymer (onsite voicing assistance)

A. J. Rhymer (onsite voicing assistance)

Will Endicott (onsite voicing assistance)

Jerin Kelley (onsite voicing assistance)

Chris Church (onsite voicing assistance)

Morgan Faulds Pike (carvings)

Nami Hamada (tonal finisher)

Casey Dunaway (tonal finisher)

Vladimir Vaculik (solid state installation)

Patrick J. Murphy & Associates (casework)

 

Diagram and photo credits

All photographs by Regina Newport except as noted:

Sketch A – Michael Rathke

Removing pipework – John Hacker, The Joplin Globe (used by permission)

 

From the organist/choirmaster

It was my great fortune to accept the position of organist/choirmaster at Grace Episcopal Church in 2017, just as the organ committee was reviewing proposals for a new instrument. Happily, the group needed little persuasion to select M. P. Rathke, Inc., to build their new organ. (By coincidence, I had just completed a summer internship in the Rathke workshop.) We worked with the builder to create a stoplist to fulfill a variety of needs: accompanying the choir, supporting congregational singing, and convincingly playing the repertoire, all while occupying a decidedly small space.

In addition, the 1890s nave would undergo significant cosmetic changes that, while uncovering original details of the building, might potentially be jarring for parishioners. Melinda Wilson, a gifted artist, fashioned an elaborate and clever gingerbread organ and choir layout based on the contract drawings so church-goers had an early 3-D explanation of the new look they could expect as the instrument took shape. The late Reverend Steven C. Wilson motivated the parish to fund the continuation of a well-established tradition of Anglican music. In signature Father Steve jest, threats of an “Organ Donor Dinner,” at which would be served the internal organs of various critters, resulted in many generous donations. The Reverend Joseph Pierjok expertly followed in the footsteps of his predecessor, continuing to support the construction of Opus 12 and bolstering the legacy of traditional worship at Grace.

Upon completion of Opus 12, the congregation immediately became less cautious singers, now being supported by the organ, rather than drowned in electronic sound. The choir enjoys improved acoustics: where they’d previously been tucked under imposing “flower boxes” that both stifled their sound and covered original stained glass, the transept is now open all the way to the ceiling. Voices now fill the space with ease, and the design of the case blends seamlessly into the architecture of the building.

Opus 12 is a welcome addition to the shrinking inventory of traditional instruments in southwest Missouri. It has been a great joy to help create an organ that will be an integral part of worship at Grace Church for generations to come.

—Peter Frost

GREAT (expressive, Manual I)

16′ Bourdon white pine & red oak 58 pipes

8′ Principal zinc & 50% tin 58 pipes

8′ Chimney Flute 30% tin 58 pipes

4′ Octave 50% tin 58 pipes

2-2⁄3′ Twelfth 50% tin 58 pipes

2′ Fifteenth 30% tin 58 pipes

1-3⁄5′ Seventeenth 30% tin 54 pipes

2′ Mixture III 50% tin 174 pipes

Zimbelstern

SWELL (expressive, Manual II)

8′ Dulciana (1–11 façade) zinc & 50% tin 58 pipes

8′ Celeste (TC) 50% tin 46 pipes

8′ Stopped Diapason white oak 58 pipes

4′ Principal 50% tin 58 pipes

4′ Open Flute 30% tin 58 pipes

2-2⁄3′ Quinte 30% tin 58 pipes

2′ Doublette 30% tin 58 pipes

16′ Bass Clarinet zinc & 50% tin 58 pipes

8′ Trumpet zinc & antimonial lead 58 pipes

PEDAL (unenclosed)

16′ Subbass poplar and 50% tin 30 pipes

16′ Bourdon (Great)

8′ Open Diapason (12–30 façade) pine & 70% tin 30 pipes

8′ Bass Flute (ext Subbass) 12 pipes

4′ Octave (ext Open Diapason) 12 pipes

16′ Double Trumpet (ext Swell) zinc & 30% tin 12 pipes

8′ Trumpet (Swell)

 

Three unison couplers

General tremulant

Direct mechanical key action apart from certain large bass pipes

Electric stop action with solid-state combination action

24 stops, 21 ranks, 1,182 pipes

 

Builder’s website: www.rathkepipeorgans.com

 

Church’s website: gracecarthage1869.org/

Paul Fritts & Company Organ Builders, Tacoma, Washington; Hillsdale College, Hillsdale, Michigan

From the builder

Paul Fritts & Company Organ Builders has recently completed the last of two new significant organs, the firm’s Opus 44 and Opus 45, for Christ Chapel at Hillsdale College in Hillsdale, Michigan. The chapel was completed in 2019 and provides seating for 1,350 within the 27,500-square-foot building. Designed by architect Duncan Stroik, the interior of the classically inspired chapel is modeled after St. Martin-in-the-Fields in London and Christ Church, Philadelphia. The 64-foot-high barrel vault ceiling, stone columns, wooden pews, and polished marble floors provide the space with excellent acoustics, especially in the elevated chancel at the front of the nave. In addition to regular services, the chapel provides space for college ceremonies and concerts. Consultant for the organ projects Dr. Paul Thornock and the builder worked extensively together with the architects throughout all phases of the project to insure the best possible musical and logistical results.

The design phase for these two projects was extensive. Never before were we tasked with building cases designed by the architect of the building where they stand. This requires a unique collaboration due to the tonal and structural requirements of an organ often unfamiliar to architects. The work ended well, problems were solved, and we are proud of the collaboration and how it has expanded our design scope.

Early on when the building was being designed it was determined that rather than making one very large organ, the needs of the program would be better served by two organs. Opus 44, completed concurrently with the new building in 2019, is conceived as a “choir” organ and speaks from the side of the chancel where it is in close proximity to small and large ensembles. Its 30 stops are divided between three divisions: the Great at impost level, the Swell above, and the Pedal divided on either side. The organ case is made of sapele mahogany to match all of the woodwork throughout the chapel. Its musical resources are designed to support a wide variety of service music and organ repertoire. The organ serves admirably as a solo and concert instrument in its own right, and it was dedicated with a concert by Nathan Laube on April 15, 2021.

To provide support for singing for a full congregation and to serve as a concert instrument, the Gallery Organ, Opus 45, has three manuals and pedal. Installation and tonal finishing were recently completed in October 2022. It, too, is housed in a sapele mahogany case with a large “broken” pediment, columns, and architectural capitals. The polished tin façade pipes are the lowest notes of the Great and Pedal Principal 16′ stops, both of which are independent. The en fenêtre keydesks of both organs are in the front center of the cases.

Both organs feature suspended mechanical key actions providing a light but easily controlled touch while sending tactile feedback to the player. Stop actions are mechanical with the inclusion of “intelligent” solenoids and 999-memory-level combination actions. General and divisional pistons, coupler and 32′ reversible toe studs, and a sequencer with multiple “forward” pistons and studs are part of both combination systems.

The stoplists were drawn up by the consultant and the builder. Both organs have substantial principal choruses on each of their divisions along with a variety of flute and string stops and are capped with a generous array of reed stops. The Gallery Organ includes both a large-scale 32′ Subbaß and an independent 32′ Posaune. Both French and German Trompets at 8′ reside in the Great, and a French-style 8′ Cromorne in the Positive as well as a Cavaillé-Coll inspired 8′ Hautbois in the Swell and 8′ Flûte Harmonique in the Great. There is also a Renaissance-style 8′ Trompet with duck-billed shallots included in the Swell. All are voiced with full-length resonators for a full yet colorful sound that blends appropriately with the overall organization of voicing style and related pipe design throughout. Compact design with reasonable access was important for space reasons and focus of the sound.

The Gallery Organ is similar in its layout to the Choir Organ, with the organ’s three manual divisions triple decked in the center with the Positive at the lowest (impost) level, the Great above, and the Swell at the top of the 38-foot-tall case. The Pedal division is divided on either side of the manual divisions. The 32′ Subbaß bass octave is placed on two windchests (C and C-sharp) at floor level at the rear of the case. Directly in front of the large Subbaß pipes, the 32′ Posaune stands on two windchests at floor level, the tallest of the tin resonators reaching to the top of the case.

The large pipes in the center façade are the lowest nine pipes (C to G-sharp) of the Great 16′ Principal. The largest four pipes of the Pedal 16′ Principal (C to D-sharp) are wooden, made of sugar pine, mounted inside the case. The Pedal façade pipes begin at E and continue to tenor f. The four smaller façade pipes in the outer fields and closest to the center field continue the Great 16′ Principal up to tenor e.

The pipes for both organs were made entirely in the Fritts workshop, the metal ones constructed of two alloys—high lead and high tin—that have been cast on sand. The process dates to ancient times and was the method used for the pipe making of Gothic and Renaissance organs and continued in some instances well into the Baroque period. The very rapid cooling of the pipe metal on the sand bed (compared to a relatively long cooling period on a cloth-covered table) produces material with a smaller crystalline structure, which has discernible benefits to the sound of the pipes. The speech of the pipes is enhanced with the pipes reaching their steady-state tone seemingly more quickly with less fuss, and with less obtrusive harshness and speech noise. Windways can be generous and pipe toes open encouraging a free, colorful, and unforced sound on relatively low wind pressures. The overall impact of the organs can then be determined by wind pressure and to a lesser degree pipe scales.

The Gallery Organ has five wedge-shaped bellows, all positioned within the case. The Great and Positive divisions share two bellows that have been carefully balanced to work together for good support of these divisions. The Pedal division makes use of one similarly sized bellows for the C and C-sharp sides and the Swell has its own bellows. The bass octave pipes of the 32′ Subbass are directly winded from the blower’s static pressure windline, which provides them with 120 mm (4¾ inches) of wind pressure. The Great and Positive divisions are winded at 74 mm, the Swell on 70 mm and the Pedal division on 76 mm.

The two organs are pitched identically at 440hz @ 70°F. Both utilize Kellner’s “Bach” temperament.

The Gallery Organ is provided with a dedicated air conditioning system that was planned at the outset and built as a part of the chapel construction. During summertime, air-conditioned air is circulated throughout the organ case and is regulated by a thermostat high in the Swell. During the heating season, air will continue to circulate throughout the case to control temperature stratification. Experience with similar systems in our organs has shown this to be critical for keeping vertically separated divisions in tune with one another.

The success of an organ project, or in this case, two projects, depends upon a great number of contributing factors. Chief among them is installing the organs in advantageous locations in a great space. A well-developed design and tonal plan along with meticulous craftsmanship and expert voicing and tonal finishing lead to outstanding results. The melding of the countless and seemingly disparate elements into a cohesive whole that is greater than the sum of its parts is the special alchemy that is superb organ building.

Special thanks go to the administration of Hillsdale College for their foresight and vision in commissioning these instruments and to project advisor, Dr. Paul Thornock. Thanks and appreciation also go to the staff of Paul Fritts & Company: Greg Bahnsen, Zane Boothby, Rain Daley, Paul Fritts, Raphi Giangiulio, Erik McLeod, Andreas Schonger, Bruce Shull, Ben Wooley, and to our bookkeepers and business managers, Robyn Ellis and Marlon Ventura. Carving work was provided by Dimitrios Klitsas. 

The completion of the Gallery Organ will be celebrated with an inaugural concert by Nathan Laube on April 13, 2023.

—Paul Fritts

From the consultant

The Hillsdale organ project began with a phone call from the architect who expressed the desire for a new organ to be as special and specialized as the building itself. The desire for mechanical action was in place before the consultant was hired.

An organ in the new Christ Chapel would be required to do many things, including playing for academic ceremonies, accompanying the college’s choirs and orchestras, playing repertoire, and serving as a teaching instrument. Hillsdale College President, Dr. Larry P. Arnn, believes that, “To elevate the hearts and minds of the faithful, Christ Chapel must be a home for musical beauty of the highest order.” Further, his desire to create a regularly sung evensong in the chapel was given considerable weight. The college’s large symphony orchestra also had to fit in the chancel.

The available space in the chancel precluded building a single large instrument in the front of the building that would completely fulfill the musical mission. Further, there was no appetite for placing an organ on the main axis at the front of the building. The only solution was two organs of complementary but distinct characters.

This visionary project was truly an “if you build it, they will come” affair. The college wished to build a sacred music program, and the administration understood that the infrastructure had to be in place to do it. Therefore, an organ professor was not yet in place during the design phase. The committee, which consisted of the architect, consultant, and various administrators, traveled throughout the Midwest to see and hear dozens of instruments by six of North America’s distinguished builders. It is fascinating how committees often have an “Aha!” moment in visiting a particular organ; this moment happened when they visited the Fritts organ at the DeBartolo Performing Arts Center at the University of Notre Dame. 

The result is a workhorse two-manual organ in the chancel with an efficient but developed Swell division that enables the organist to render choral accompaniments convincingly and to play the many liturgical events in the chapel, including evensong. The instrument also has sufficient power to pair with the orchestra. The Gallery Organ is the heroic instrument the college desired for large convocations and concerts.

Dr. Arnn’s ideals are borne out in these examples of the organ art: “There never has been a great university unconcerned with the question of the Divine. More than one-third of our students are involved in music—an invaluable gift that helps us to contemplate beauty, harmony, and meaning. To that same end, our splendid organs will help point man’s thoughts toward God.”

—Paul Thornock

From the architect

Christ Chapel at Hillsdale College, Michigan, is the first freestanding chapel in the college’s 175-year history. Located on the main axis of campus and forming a new quadrangle, the classical brick and limestone exterior features a domed circular entrance portico with Doric columns. Three concave entry doors lead into an elegant barrel-vaulted nave with limestone columns and mahogany side balconies. Large arched windows fill the space with natural light. 

The Choir Organ is located along the side wall of the chancel and framed by a limestone arch and Doric columns engaged to the wall. The case is 24 feet tall by 13 feet wide. Carved mahogany Corinthian columns divide the façade of the organ case into a taller central section and two side wings. This architectural motif (called a “Serliana”) is found throughout the chapel, such as on the second level of the main exterior façade, and the window above the altar in the chancel. A gold leaf inscription in the frieze of the entablature of the organ case reads: Laudate eum in Chordis et Organo (“Praise him with strings and pipes,” Psalm 150). Carved mahogany laurel wreaths punctuate the pedestal of the organ. Limestone relief panels in the chancel show a harp, trumpets, cymbals, and floral swags, visually depicting the praise of God called for in the psalm.

The Gallery Organ case harmonizes with the Choir Organ but is much larger, 30 feet tall by 30 feet wide. Its overall shape is also a Serliana motif. It has four 15-foot-tall fluted composite columns. An elaborate entablature and broken pediment with a receding apex are above. It also has an inscription across the pulvinated frieze: Cantate Domino Canticum, Novum Quoniam Mirabilia Fecit (“Sing to the Lord a new song, for he has done great wonders,” Psalm 98). 

While there are some examples of college chapels with two organs in the United States, there are few examples of the organs being conceived together. The architect has designed five other cases in the United States for both new and historic organs, and was inspired by the Saint-Sulpice grand orgue case by the architect Jean-François Chalgrin. The two new organs will be the centerpieces of Hillsdale’s expanding music program.  

—Duncan G. Stroik 

 

Builder’s website: www.frittsorgan.com

Architect’s website: www.stroik.com

College website: www.hillsdale.edu

 

Choir Organ, Opus 44

GREAT (Manual I)

16′ Bourdon

8′ Principal

8′ Salicional

8′ Rohrflöte

4′ Octave

4′ Spitzflöte

2-2⁄3′ Quinte

2′ Octave

Mixture IV

8′ Trompet

4′ Trompet

SWELL (Manual II)

8′ Principal

8′ Gamba

8′ Voix celeste

8′ Gedackt

4′ Octave

4′ Rohrflöte

2-2⁄3′ Nasard

2′ Gemshorn

1-3⁄5′ Tierce

Mixture III–IV

16′ Fagott

8′ Trompet

8′ Basson/Hautbois

PEDAL

16′ Subbass

8′ Principal

8′ Bourdon*

4′ Octave*

16′ Posaune

8′ Trompet

*Some pipes transmitted from other stops

Couplers

Swell to Great, Great to Pedal, Swell to Pedal

 

Polished tin front pipes

Suspended, direct mechanical key action

Mechanical stop action with electric pre-set system

Tremulant

Compass: Manual 58 notes; Pedal: 30 notes

Gallery Organ, Opus 45

GREAT (Manual I)

16′ Principal

8′ Octave

8′ Salicional

8′ Rohrflöte

8′ Flûte Harmonique

4′ Octave

4′ Spitzflöte

3′ Quinte

2′ Octave

Mixture VI–VIII

Cornet V

16′ Trompet

8′ Trompet

8′ Trompette

SWELL (Manual III)

8′ Principal

8′ Gedackt

8′ Baarpijp

8′ Violdigamba

8′ Voix celeste

4′ Octave

4′ Koppelflöte

2-2⁄3′ Nasat

2′ Octave

2′ Blockflöte

1-3⁄5′ Terz

Mixture V–VI

16′ Trompet

8′ Trompet

8′ Hautbois

8′ Vox Humana

POSITIVE (Manual II)

8′ Principal

8′ Gedackt

8′ Quintadena

4′ Octave

4′ Rohrflöte

2-2⁄3′ Nasat

2′ Octave

2′ Waldflöte

1-1⁄3′ Larigot

Sesquialtera II

Mixture VI–VII

16′ Dulcian

8′ Trompet

8′ Cromorne

PEDAL

32′ Subbaß*

16′ Principal

16′ Subbaß

8′ Octave

8′ Bourdon*

4′ Octave

4′ Nachthorn

Mixture VI–VII

32′ Posaune

16′ Posaune

8′ Trompet

4′ Trompet

2′ Cornet

*Some pipes transmitted from other stops

Couplers

Swell to Great

Positive to Great

Swell to Positive

Great to Pedal

Swell to Pedal

Positive to Pedal

 

Polished tin front pipes

Suspended, direct mechanical key action

Mechanical stop action with electric pre-set system

Swell Tremulant

Great & Positive Tremulant

Wind Stabilizer

Compass: Manual 58 notes; Pedal: 30 notes

 

 

Opus 44 Choir Organ: 

30 stops; 38 ranks; 1,854 pipes

Opus 45 Gallery Organ: 

57 stops; 85 ranks; 4,115 pipes

John Bishop

Music as community . . .

When I was offered the opportunity of joining the Organ Clearing House during the summer of 2000, I faced a critical choice. In addition to working independently as an organbuilder and technician, renovating and maintaining a gaggle of organs in the Boston area, I was also director of music at a large suburban Congregational church. I knew that the Organ Clearing House would sweep me into a busy travel schedule, and that I would have to make a choice.

That was a difficult decision on many levels. I had developed many friendships over my nearly twenty-year tenure at the church. For the first sixteen years, it was a privilege to work with the senior pastor, a kind and wise man and fellow sailor who preached beautifully and supported the music program vigorously. The privilege diminished after his retirement with a string of short-term successors who ranged from silly to terrible, but I valued my relationship with the choir enormously. We were fortunate to have a superb professional quartet joining the twenty or so volunteers, and we had a blast preparing and presenting all sorts of music from simple unaccompanied hymns to great oratorios with orchestra.

Each Thursday night, we opened our home after rehearsal, and at least half, sometimes all of the choir would show up. BYOB was the order of the day (though we made sure to have extra on hand, just in case), and we would order pizza or some appropriate substitute and spend a couple hours discussing the music we had worked on that evening, projects that various members were involved in outside the church, and simply nourishing our friendships. I have no doubt that the camaraderie of those many evenings enhanced our music-making by building special levels of trust and respect among that cheerful group of musicians.

Almost twenty years have passed since I faced and made the decision to leave all that and join the Organ Clearing House. I do not regret the choice, but I miss the fun and richness of working with that choir. Of all the aspects of playing the organ for worship, I miss most the pageantry of processional and recessional hymns—the movement of the sound of the choir through the building, the relationship between the choir and congregation, the ebb and flow of the poetry, and the wonderful feeling of producing all that acoustic sound to surround, lead, encourage, and inspire the congregation. As the choir mounted the chancel steps and split into the rows of center-facing choir stalls, I loved having eye contact with them as I played and they sang. Sometimes an exchanged wink would remind us of a joke, sometimes we simply reveled in the joy of it.

The living organ

Charles Brenton Fisk (1925–1983) was an innovative and inquisitive organbuilder and founder of the venerable firm C. B. Fisk, Inc. Charlie was revered by his coworkers for his Socratic teaching, inspiring creative thought by posing questions. He famously said, “The organ is a machine, whose machine-made sounds will always be without interest unless they can appear to be coming from a living organism. The organ has to appear to be alive.” I have often written that it is the challenge, even the responsibility of the organbuilder to remove the mechanics from the equation. Practically, it is impossible. Every organ has some elusive click, buzz, or hiss. But careful attention to fabricating techniques and quality control, especially being sure that moving parts are identical in form and function can tame the wild beast within.

Some organs, especially undistinguished organs with electro-pneumatic action, can seem like industrial products with lifeless tone, but when I am working inside an instrument, there is a big difference in the sensations I feel whether the blower is running or not. When the blower is not running, the organ is static and lifeless. When the blower is turned on, I hear and feel the air surging through the windlines, filling the reservoirs and pressurizing windchests. There may be a few creaks and groans as wind vessels fill. The organ gains breath and comes alive.

Organs that are conceived, intended, and built to seem alive are those that can become part of a community of music making in a church. They join the choir in air-driven acoustic musical leadership, that unique type of tone that carries and blends so well.

At one with the machine

In his book, Violin Dreams (Houghton Mifflin, 2006), Arnold Steinhardt, the now retired first violinist of the Guarneri String Quartet, wrote sensually about his relationship with his violin: “When I hold the violin, my left arm stretches lovingly around its neck, my right hand draws the bow across the strings like a caress, and the violin itself is tucked under my chin, a place halfway between my brain and my beating heart.” (page 5)

I have shared this quote in these pages several times over the years. When I first read it, I was touched by his eloquence about the intimacy of his relationship with his instrument, and I wondered further, what about the clarinetist or bassoonist who puts the business end of his instrument in his mouth. It does not get much more personal than that.

Compare that to the organist sitting on the bench at one end of a large room. She draws a simple stop, perhaps the most beautiful Diapason voice on the instrument, and plays a single note. If the organ has tracker action, the motion of her finger has moved a few levers to open a valve, releasing stored pressurized air to move into the pipe and produce tone.

If it is an electro-pneumatic organ, her finger has closed an electric contact (switch) sending current through a wire to an electro-magnet. The energized magnet moves a metal armature (valve), which opens one end of a pressurized channel to the atmosphere. The other end of that channel is closed by a leather pouch with a valve glued to it. When the pressure is released from the channel, the pouch collapses, pulling open the valve. It takes a lot more words to describe simply the motions of an electro-pneumatic action, and if it is a large instrument, there can be many more steps between key and valve including intermediate relays and switching. But in a well-built and well-regulated action, it all happens instantaneously.

That one motion of the organist’s finger sends a single tone across the vast space. It is similar to flipping a switch to turn on a light. But the lively thrill of playing the organ comes in the clever and seamless operation of the machine. Touch a button with your thumb and that single note releases a roar. Hold the note and flex your ankle, and the note gets softer. And to think you have done all this with a single note. Multiply those gestures exponentially, and you create a musical whole with an expressive range greater than that of a symphony orchestra, deftly skipping from one family of instruments to another, combining them, giving them solos, filling the room with complex tones.

Mr. Steinhardt is one of our greatest violinists. He can produce magic from that pound of spruce, producing a kaleidoscope of colors. He can shift from stentorian majesty to nimble coloratura. But Steinhardt’s kaleidoscope is miniscule when compared to the organist shifting from a mighty chorus of Tubas to a distant Aeoline. And the organist’s ability to superimpose a variety of tone colors simultaneously is unique in the world of music. The contrast between a Diapason and a Trumpet is the perfect example. The two voices may have the same volume level, but they are significantly different in harmonic structure. They can be compared one after the other, they can be contrasted, each being given an independent line of music, or they can be combined and played together. And that is just two stops. Multiply that by dozens or even hundreds, and the organist has a seemingly limitless variety of tone available at the touch of a finger. Or thousands of touches of fingers.

And that is where the seamless machine comes in. Recently, a colleague mentioned that he was using a sequence of forty-five pistons for a single decrescendo. What does that statement mean to a knowledgeable organist? First, it must be a huge organ to have that many pistons and enough stops to make that many meaningful changes in a single passage. Second, the organist is seeking a very grand, sweeping effect. Third, the organist is putting in a lot of work to prepare. Does it take an hour, two hours, or more of practice time to create such a sequence? Did he need to have a friend present to share in the listening as he made decisions? And we can assume (or hope) that this monumental organ is in a huge acoustic space. And that is one of the singular aspects of playing the organ—creating vast tonal structures in vast acoustic spaces. (I was right on all counts. It was David Briggs working on registrations for his new transcription of Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony at the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine in New York City on February 26.)

§

A violin typically weighs less than a pound­—400 grams is usual. The luthier labors for months with a half dozen pieces of wood, each of which weighs a few ounces. We weigh pipe organs by the ton, and the process of building an organ involves thousands of hours of managing hundreds of components, some of which weigh as much as a ton. You see that big tower crown with moldings and carvings, sitting on top of a forty-foot organ case? And how did it get there? That’s right. People put it there. Notice how it is just a foot or two from the ceiling arch? And what does that mean? Right. There could be no hoisting point above it. People put it there without mechanical assistance.

How do we build a ten-ton machine whose mechanical presence can vanish under the fingers of an artist? Here are a few of the myriad issues to be considered by the organbuilder.

Architectural design

The excellent monumental organ should claim a commanding architectural presence in its surroundings. The organ relies on the building for the projection and blending of its tone, and the symbiotic relationship should include visual harmony. In that sense, the organ is the mouthpiece of the building.

Tonal structure

If an organ is intended for liturgical use in a large space, it must include:

• a wide dynamic range with individual voices carefully planned so as to allow subtle gradation between different levels of volume;

• enough variety of tone to satisfy the requirements of congregational leadership, expressive accompaniment of solo voices and choruses, festival outbursts, and the realm of solo organ literature;

• multiple keyboard divisions, each with a specific purpose and individual character, and each blending seamlessly with all the others.

Limitless lungs

A mentor and colleague once shared his mantra with me, “Air is the fuel we burn to produce organ tone.” If we are setting out to produce monumental tone in a monumental space, we are going to need a lot of fuel. It takes a hurricane of air to make one big bass pipe go. Once in a while, when servicing an organ, I have occasion to lift one of those big babies from its hole, and let me tell you, until you have experienced ten or fifteen inches of wind blasting through that six-inch hole, you cannot have full appreciation of the amount of energy involved in the speech of that pipe.

Add to that one toehole the hundreds involved in the last fortissimo chord of French toccata, and you might get a sense of what’s going on. A six-note chord with a hundred stops playing equals how many toeholes? A large organ blower might be able to move ten thousand cubic feet of air per minute at whatever pressure the organ is running on. How big is ten thousand cubic feet? It’s fifty by twenty by ten feet. A professional bowling lane is sixty feet long.

The machines and reservoirs that create and store the pressure are accurately regulated to provide pressure at a steady and constant rate. If the pressure varies, so does the pitch and intensity of the tone.

Sensitive mechanics

I have stressed several times the importance of silence of the organ’s mechanical systems. Once again, it is impossible, practically, to make such a complex and monstrous machine disappear. The listener may hear a “thump” from the console during a big registration change, a squeak from an expression shutter, a click from a distant primary valve. The organist and the organbuilder or maintenance technician cooperate to correct and repair those conditions as they arise. I know I have spent hundreds of hours crawling around in organs looking for extraneous mechanical noises. On more than one occasion, it has turned out not to be the organ at all, but a light fixture above the nave ceiling that rattles when low FFF# is played. The last time the bulb was changed, the custodian did not tighten all the screws.

The keyboards are regulated so that all feel alike, and the “strike point” of each is at precisely the same level. All the keys travel the same distance and have the same spring tension and weight.

Windchest actions are silent and consistent. Precision is essential in fabricating the mechanical parts of a pipe organ. Each must have exactly the dimensions, density, and weight in order to ensure that each note performs the same as the rest. The standard for the best pipe organ actions is the repetition rate. In both tracker and electro-pneumatic organs, the action must be free and capable of repeating faster than any human fingers can move. While many musicians assume that speed of attack is essential to rate of repetition, the offending issue is more often the (lack of) speed of release.

With all these factors faithfully executed and carefully balanced, the pipe organ becomes the perfect extension of the musician. It is an acoustic pantograph, expanding the scale of musical thought according to physical settings.

Community spirit

That organ, so beautifully balanced and scaled to its environment, is not only an extension of the thoughts and inspirations of the organist, but for the entire community of listeners and singers. While plant life takes in oxygen and produces carbon dioxide, a transformation that is essential to the balance of life, a pipe organ takes in air and exhausts air. The same air that runs through the works and the pipes of the organ is inhaled by the singers, soloists, choristers, and congregants alike, who in turn produce musical tone in harmony with the instrument. The inspiration and exchange of air enables the inspiration and exchange of musical ideas, emotional responses, worshipful experiences, and the range of human interaction. Those sensations are measured in goose bumps.

The organ in the church where I played last was not extraordinary, but it was a good, solid, pretty complete three-manual electro-pneumatic organ. It was in good condition and everything worked, and the independent voices blended nicely into choruses, with solo singers, the choir, and with the congregation. It was a familiar part of the family, and together we rode its broad back through countless adventures. It was a magic carpet ride with plenty of seats and cup holders. I loved it.