Bedient update: The University of Iowa

David C. Kelzenberg studied music performance and music theory at Quincy University and the University of Iowa. He has an interest in and has performed on all keyboard instruments, including organ, harpsichord, clavichord, and piano, and has made a special study of the history of early keyboard performance practice in the 20th and 21st centuries. He has taught music theory, French horn, trumpet, organ, and piano. His organ teachers have included Richard Haas, Rudolf Zuiderveld, and Gerhard Krapf. He is co-owner of the international Internet mailing list PIPORG-L (devoted to the organ), and founder and co-owner of HPSCHD-L (devoted to stringed early keyboard instruments such as the harpsichord and clavichord). He serves on the board of directors of the Midwestern Historical Keyboard Society, the Cedar Rapids Area Theatre Organ Society, and the Iowa City Early Keyboard Society.

Mother Nature showed her dark side during the month of June, with repeated thunderstorms dumping rain and more rain on the Midwest. Rivers, lakes, and reservoirs rose, eventually spilling over dams, levees, and banks, flooding some areas in unprecedented amounts.
Eastern Iowa was particularly hard hit, as cities along major rivers and tributaries were inundated by floodwaters. The massive Coralville Dam, built by the Army Corps of Engineers in the 1950s, was designed to control the Iowa River upstream of the towns of Iowa City and Coralville, while creating a huge water reservoir—a man-made lake designed for recreation, boating, swimming, and fishing. For only the second time in its history, the reservoir’s capacity was exceeded, with water flowing freely over the emergency spillway of the massive dam and overrunning everything in its downstream path.
Both Iowa City and Coralville were impacted by the swiftly rising water. In Iowa City, the University of Iowa had built numerous buildings along the banks of the river, under the mistaken assumption that the Coralville Dam, some 10 miles upstream, would prevent future flooding of the Iowa River. Among the buildings constructed adjacent to the river is the Voxman Music Building, home to the university’s School of Music. Named for the renowned educator and long-time School of Music director Himie Voxman, the Voxman Music Building has housed the university’s School of Music since its construction in 1970. Along with other nearby buildings such as Hancher Auditorium, Clapp Recital Hall, the Theatre Building, the University of Iowa Museum of Art, and two art buildings, Voxman was built immediately adjacent to the scenic and usually tranquil Iowa River, a mistake that would come to haunt the university in 2008.
When it was apparent that a flood was coming, Iowa City and Coralville residents turned out in a massive sand-bagging effort. Walls of sandbags were erected along the riverbank and around low-lying buildings. But the rain kept coming, and so did the floodwaters. By the time the water stopped rising, every important university building along the river—the entire Fine Arts Complex, the Main Library, the Iowa Memorial Union, several other academic buildings, the university’s largest dormitory, and its power generating plant, not to mention numerous homes and businesses in both communities, were flooded.
Some of the victims of this devastating flood were organs. In the Voxman Music Building, two large studio organs and several practice instruments were flooded with mucky river water to a depth of about 18 inches for over a week. The most serious loss was to the university’s 1987 North German-style organ by Taylor & Boody, Op. 13, which has been widely acclaimed as a masterwork. In the other teaching studio, a large two-manual tracker instrument by Schlicker was also severely damaged. In addition, three practice instruments, by Casavant, Brombaugh, and Holtkamp, suffered a similar fate. Fortunately, the water never reached the level of the pipes, but many parts such as blowers, winding systems, pedalboards, and actions were essentially destroyed.
According to Delbert Disselhorst, longtime chair of UI’s organ department, the effect of the flooding has been devastating to the department. “All of these organs will be removed from the building and returned to organ builders for rebuilding. We estimate that the building itself will not reopen until the fall of 2009. However, it may be another year or more before the organs are back in place and ready to resume their teaching and recital duties.” Gregory Hand, new professor of organ at Iowa, added a note of optimism. “The organs, despite everyone’s best efforts, sat in 18 inches of dirty water for some nine days. However, everyone at the university has been extremely helpful towards the organ department, and there has never been any question whether the organs would be fixed.”
Carroll Hanson, the curator of organs for the university, explained further. “The damaged organs included the university’s original teaching instrument, a Holtkamp ‘Martini’, which is believed to be the last instrument built by Walter Holtkamp, Sr., in 1961. Also damaged were tracker practice instruments by Casavant and John Brombaugh. The large Schlicker studio organ, a two-manual tracker of about 25 stops, suffered severe damage to its winding system and mechanicals.”
The most severe loss was the Taylor & Boody recital instrument, which has served as a focal point for teaching and recitals. Many students and guest artists have enjoyed its remarkable qualities since its installation. This instrument and the Brombaugh practice instrument will be returned to the Taylor & Boody shop in Virginia for restoration. Work on the large Schlicker instrument and the Holtkamp Martini will be undertaken by Gene Bedient’s shop in Lincoln, Nebraska. The Casavant practice instrument will be returned to Casavant in St. Hyacinthe, Quebec, Canada, for restoration.
Fortunately, the Casavant recital instrument in Clapp Recital Hall was not damaged by the flood. This large concert instrument, reportedly the first large tracker instrument to be installed in a major American teaching institution in the 20th century, was installed in the new Clapp Recital Hall in 1971 under the supervision of the “father” of organ instruction at Iowa, the late Gerhard Krapf. But, while the organ sits high in the hall and remained above the flood-waters, the hall itself was inundated, and will require major renovation. Another survivor of the devastation, a small portable continuo organ by Taylor & Boody, was moved to the second floor before the waters rose, and was untouched by the floodwaters.
Other instruments at the university were also compromised by the flooding. Some pianos and a harpsichord were removed from the path of the rising waters, while others were not as fortunate. Steve Carver, piano maintenance coordinator for the university, recalls details of their efforts to save the instruments. “We moved pianos all week until Friday the 13th (of June). We were initially told we could work through Friday but the river came up much faster than expected, so the building was locked down early Friday morning. We will lose about 25 upright pianos, a mixture of Steinway and Everetts. We left nine Steinway grands on the first floor to finish on June 13, but were unable to access the building to complete the move. These will at the least require all new legs and lyres (about $2000 per piano), but may well be totaled too.
“I am more concerned about what the exposure to high humidity after standing in 18 inches of water will do to the soundboards, etc. of the instruments. We were able to move about 20 more Steinways upstairs. But even these may suffer from lack of proper ventilation this summer and fall. I have been recently told that all 50 grands and uprights on the second floor will have to be relocated before winter.
“We removed the Italian harpsichord (built by the Zuckermann shop) from the building on June 12 and were planning to do likewise to the remaining two (a French double by David Rubio and a Flemish single by Edward Kottick) on June 13. As we were locked out of the building, these two stood in 18 inches of water for about nine days. I cannot comment on their condition other than to say there is a good chance they will be severely damaged. I have grave concerns in the long term how this flood will impact our inventory.”
This is a crushing blow to the UI School of Music. However, their resolve to work through these problems remains strong. Teaching will continue for the current academic year in facilities provided elsewhere in town. Local churches in particular have opened their space for teaching. It is anticipated that the Voxman Music Building, Hancher Auditorium, and Clapp Recital Hall will reopen in time for the 2009–2010 academic year, although it is unclear whether the organs will be back in place by then. But return they will, hopefully in better shape than ever and with provisions in place to prevent repeating this sort of tragedy. The harpsichords and pianos will also be restored, and music instruction will continue at the high level for which the University of Iowa has become known.
Meanwhile, in nearby Cedar Rapids, it was the Red Cedar River that caused problems, and if anything, the flood was even more devastating here than in Iowa City and Coralville. Organs were severely damaged in Cedar Rapids as well, although it was organs of a different type entirely.
The Red Cedar River runs through the heart of Cedar Rapids. Much of the city’s history is tied to industry lining the river, and downtown Cedar Rapids is bisected by this body of water. In the middle of the river in the heart of the city, Mays Island has stood for hundreds of years. A prominent landmark, Mays Island is home to the city’s municipal government, making Cedar Rapids one of just a few cities whose seat of government is located on an island. Also on the island are the courthouse and Veteran’s Memorial Coliseum, home of a famous large stained glass window designed by artist Grant Wood. At the height of the flood, Mays Island was completely invisible, with only the tall buildings standing above the water to show where it once was.
Cedar Rapids knew a flood was coming, and her citizens prepared accordingly. As in Iowa City and Coralville, volunteers turned out in a monumental sand-bagging effort. What no one could have anticipated was the magnitude of the flood of 2008. The water rose, up and up, and UP, and when it peaked it had completely inundated Mays Island, downtown Cedar Rapids, and many residential neighborhoods near the river. Hundreds, if not thousands, of homes and businesses were damaged or destroyed. Countless people were left homeless, and the government offices of Cedar Rapids and many of its downtown and neighborhood businesses were compromised. Amid the devastation, overshadowed by the tragedies of people left homeless, businesses destroyed, and historic buildings damaged, two significant cultural icons were also devastated by the raging waters. These were architectural treasures: two historical theatres dating back to 1928, and musical treasures—the theatre pipe organs that they housed. While these instruments represent a tragic loss, things could have been worse.
In 1929, the city was proud to acquire a new municipal organ, a 4-manual, 56-rank instrument built by the Ernest M. Skinner Company and installed in Veteran’s Memorial Coliseum on Mays Island. If that important instrument were still installed in that arena, it would have been completely destroyed during this flood. Fortunately, it was spared this fate. In the 1950s, the instrument was moved to Sinclair Auditorium on the campus of Coe College, some 10 blocks above the high water line. As a result, it suffered no damage during the flood.
Unfortunately, Cedar Rapids’ two historic theatre organs did not fare as well.
The beautiful Paramount Theatre, built in 1928, stands at the corner of Third Avenue and Second Street in the heart of downtown. Built in the grand style, this 2,000-seat movie palace was completely restored to its former glory just a few years ago to the tune of 7.8 million dollars. Its grand Hall of Mirrors, modeled after the great Palais de Versailles in France, ushered generations of moviegoers toward the opulent auditorium, where the sound of the 3/12 Mighty Wurlitzer beckoned. All of this glory came to an ignominious end during the first week of June, when the river crested its banks and inundated downtown Cedar Rapids.
A wall of water rushed through the Paramount Theatre building and into the auditorium. The heavy Wurlitzer console, raised on its lift to stage level in anticipation of the flood, was savagely tossed onto its back and onto the stage. The stage extension, built of heavy reinforced panels and extending over the orchestra pit, was knocked into complete disarray. In the end, some 8.5 feet of water covered the stage, organ console, and the entire auditorium. The lift and console were completely submerged for at least a week, and in the sub-basement, the organ’s blower was under at least 30 feet of water.
Fortunately, the organ chambers were not breached by the water, or the tragedy would have been far worse. The pipes, percussions, and windchests, as well as the original Wurlitzer relay, appear to have been spared. The blower was not reachable until one full month after the floodwaters receded. It is damaged, but still responding to a turn of its motor.
The most serious loss is the console itself, which was virtually destroyed. While it was found essentially intact after the waters receded, the waters had weakened wood and joints, and it literally fell apart as workers carefully attempted to remove it from the theatre. This is particularly tragic as this was an unusual Wurlitzer console, with unique decorative details, controlling an unusual instrument. Classified by Wurlitzer as a model Balaban 1A, the Paramount’s organ (Opus 1907) is the only extant instrument of this model still in essentially original condition, still in its original home. Only seven Balaban 1As were built by Wurlitzer, and this one has resided in the Paramount Theatre since opening night in 1928.
Like the theatre itself, the Wurlitzer organ is owned by the City of Cedar Rapids. It has been carefully maintained by, and at the expense of, the Cedar Rapids Area Theatre Organ Society (CRATOS) since that group was formed in 1969. CRATOS volunteers are working hard now to restore this organ to its former glory, but many questions remain about the structural integrity of the building, possible insurance coverage, and funding. The generous support of friends of the theatre organ will be needed to allow this special Wurlitzer organ to sing again. Obviously, the console will need to be completely rebuilt or replaced.
Meanwhile, at nearby Theatre Cedar Rapids (originally the RKO Iowa Theatre), Cedar Rapids’ other historic theatre organ suffered a similar fate. Theatre Cedar Rapids is home to the celebrated “Rhinestone” Barton theatre organ (opus 510), so named because of its spectacularly decorated console. This is another unique instrument, the largest of several Bartons that were actually built by the Wangerin Company of Milwaukee, and like its Wurlitzer neighbor an original installation from the year 1928. As far as is known, this is the only organ ever delivered with a console covered in black velvet, brilliant rhinestones, and sparkling glitter. This organ was historian and restoration expert David Junchen’s favorite Barton organ, and anyone who has heard or played it in its original home in Cedar Rapids can understand why.
The news from Theatre Cedar Rapids is somewhat brighter than that from the Paramount. At First Avenue and Third Street, TCR is a bit further from the river, and there was no wall of water crashing into the building. But creep in it did, and although the console had also been raised to stage level in anticipation of the flooding, the water rose to about the level of its solo (top) manual, where it remained for several days. The console damage was disastrous. Fortunately, the blower and relay for this instrument are located at chamber level, so only the console and its Barton four-post lift were damaged by the floodwaters.
The Barton organ is owned and maintained by a small non-profit corporation, Cedar Rapids Barton, Incorporated (CRBI). The organ was not insured, and funds for its restoration will need to come from generous donors and grants. Already a grant has been provided by the National Endowment for the Humanities, which has been used for the removal of the Barton console from the theatre and into safe storage where the damage is being assessed. However, significant funds are still needed to support the restoration or replacement of the organ’s console and other work needed to bring the Rhinestone Barton back to life.
With all of the personal tragedies the people of Cedar Rapids and Eastern Iowa have suffered as a consequence of this devastating flood, the restoration of these two historic theatre organs may seem an insignificant goal. Yet the people have demonstrated a strong will to restore their beloved theatres, which they consider important cultural landmarks for their city. Many of these same people have spoken out in support of restoring the organs, which they consider the “voice” of these theatres, providing much needed moral if not financial support. And it is the firm goal of CRATOS and CRBI working together to do whatever it takes to bring these unique historical instruments back to their former glory.
It will take time for these transformations to take place. And, it will take the generous financial support of many of our friends in the organ community and the music world. At the recent annual convention of the American Theatre Organ Society in Indianapolis, many people contributed to the cause of these two organs. But this is only the beginning. An online fundraising appeal is underway.
How can you help? If you would like to support the ongoing restoration and upkeep of the Cedar Rapids theatre organs, please consider making a contribution to the cause. You can do so online by visiting <www.cr-atos.com&gt;, where you may make an online contribution and view many photos and news stories on the flood damage to the organs. You may also purchase a copy of “Back in the Black,” Scott Foppiano’s spectacular CD recorded on the Rhinestone Barton, proceeds from which will support the organ fund. Or, you can send a check (made payable to CRATOS) to CRATOS, PO Box 611, Cedar Rapids, IA 52406. You can designate your donation for the Wurlitzer, the Barton, or both. The people of Cedar Rapids thank you for your support and encouragement during these difficult times.

Put your best foot forward.

I live in a village at the head of the Damariscotta River in Maine. It’s a tidal river—so, to the surprise of many tourists not familiar with ocean tides, the river’s current changes direction four times each day. It is by definition an estuary—a long arm of the sea that stretches inland, very much like Norway’s fjords. The tide rises and falls between nine and twelve feet each day, depending on the phase of the moon and on what meteorological events at sea might be pushing extra water our way. The timing of the tides is related not to solar days—the regular 24-hour periods by which we organize our lives—but by lunar cycles. A lunar day is a little shorter than a solar day so the timing of the tides advances about 40 minutes each day. This morning, high tide was at 12:39 am, this afternoon it will be at 1:24 pm. Tomorrow morning, 1:27 am, tomorrow afternoon high tide will be at 2:12 pm. There’s a tide clock on our living room wall that has a 24-hour face much like any clock, but it has only one hand. High tide is at the top of the face, low tide at the bottom. The trick is that it counts lunar seconds so it gains the right amount of time against the “other” clock each day. In the British Navy during the 19th century, the payroll of officers was based on the 13-month lunar year.
The river is 12 miles long and as much as 150 feet deep in places. Down near where the river meets the ocean there is a narrow passage (The Fort Island Narrows) through which pass 3400 cubic yards of water each second at full tide race. In his charming book about life on the Damariscotta, a local writer converted that number to 283 dump-truck-loads-per-second!1
Where we live, it’s about 25 feet deep in the central channel at low tide, and the banks drain to mud flats. I can see clam diggers from my desk most days at low tide. Because the mud is rich in clay, there was a booming industry of brick-making along the river throughout the 19th century. Several places along the shore are littered with bricks that cracked or twisted in the kilns and were discarded on the beach. We pass by Brick Kiln Road and Brickyard Cove on the way to our house. The other big industry in town was ship-building. Four- and five-masted schooners were built here and sailed down the river to the ocean.
Main Street comprises a three- or four-hundred yard stretch of businesses and shops, most of which are housed in 19th-century brick buildings. It’s quite a bit more crowded in the summer than in the winter, but the town has been able to maintain its historic flavor. (Last winter, in order to prevent Wal-Mart from opening a store here, the Town Meeting voted a size cap for commercial buildings that allows a typical supermarket, but nothing larger.) You can buy T-shirts with a seagull or a fish and the name of the town, but there’s no saltwater taffy shop and no miniature golf course.
Recently a local gallery hosted an art festival that concluded with a solo cello recital—three of Bach’s unaccompanied suites played by a friend of ours. My wife and I were pleased with the performance—a well-conceived and presented reading of that magnificent music. But there was a problem with communication. There was no printed program. The performer told us that he would play three suites and each suite has six movements, so we could count on our fingers and know when to applaud, but lacking the names of the movements the astute listener had no chance to deduce the difference between a Courante, a Sarabande, and an Allemande (are they dried fruits?). He gave brief spoken notes in which he compared the three suites he was playing with the other three—meaningless to an audience of laypeople. And he referred to his own scholarship in oblique terms—also meaningless. After the recital, my wife and I were chatting with him (they served champagne and strawberries dipped in chocolate) about his approach to the music. He talked about different styles of Allemandes, one of which involves a given number of couples with an extra single man, something like a game of Musical Chairs. Apparently, some of the suites were written following the death of Bach’s first wife. How fascinating that the Allemande included a figurative odd-man-out. I bet that everyone in the audience would have loved to hear that.
What do we say about what we play? How do we share the mystery, the excitement, the playfulness, the pathos of our music? How do we communicate our relationship with our instrument and its music to the listeners on whom we depend so much? Here are some rhetorical questions that come from my own experience as a concert presenter and a better-than-average informed listener of organ music. I invite you readers (as important to me as the audience at a recital) to reflect:

• How often have we given knowing chuckles or annoyed glances when a well-meaning, even enthusiastic concertgoer applauds between the Prelude and the Fugue?
• How often have we addressed an audience using organ-only jargon? “ . . . and then I will add the Fourniture and Cymbal to emphasize . . . ”
• How often have we addressed audiences with implied assumptions? “ . . . and of course you know that Herr Scheidemann . . . ”
• How often have we played chorale settings with German titles as Sunday-morning preludes without offering translation or explanation to the congregation? “Doesn’t everyone at the First Baptist Church know that you have to play Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland on the First Sunday of Advent?” Balbastre’s settings of traditional French carols are as much a part of Christmas to me as eggnog and ribbon candy, but it’s not fair to assume that everyone in pews has the same reaction.
• How many recitals have we programmed according to historic progression and accuracy without considering the audiences’ appreciation and enlightenment?

Any of these scenarios (except perhaps the first) are appropriate for a university graduate recital or a recital at an AGO convention. But consider the old saw, “preaching to the choir.” In my practical experience, the choir does not necessarily agree with the preaching. If we assume too much in front of any audience, that audience’s first perception will be that the performer is aloof, even arrogant. I am fortunate to know many brilliant organists. Some are flamboyant, some are quiet and reserved, but every one of them has a powerful ego that makes it possible for them to perform. Playing any musical instrument well is a marvelous skill, and many of your audience members will be impressed, dazzled, and mystified by what you do. But they will appreciate the experience of hearing you play so much more if you let them in on the joke or relate the music and the historic figures around it to real life. Any concertgoer knows that Bach was a great composer. But how many know that he imbedded coded names (his own and those of family members) in his music? (Thanks to the vast success of The Da Vinci Code, audiences are really interested in codes these days.) How many know that he was a fiery guy who stood up to the City Council in Leipzig (his employers) and got in trouble?
Recently James Levine added the musical directorship of the Boston Symphony Orchestra to his portfolio of responsibilities. (If you were leading the Metropolitan Opera wouldn’t you be looking for something else to do in your spare time?) He entered the scene in Boston without a trace of a suggestion that he was fitting his new job into the interstices of his life. It didn’t take long for the orchestra’s players to renegotiate their contract to allow for higher pay for the concerts Levine conducts because the rehearsal schedule and the music they are playing are so much more demanding. The orchestra’s Board of Trustees created a new endowment to pay for that. Mr. Levine is well-known for his love of contemporary music, and he has been challenging the audience with many complicated pieces that are, shall we say, less easy to hear and understand than the more traditional fare of symphonies by Brahms, Mozart, and Beethoven. Last season featured a series of concerts that contrasted and compared the music of Beethoven and Schoenberg. Schoenberg can be tough going for the average concertgoer. (In fact friends of ours gave us the chance to take over their choice subscription seats because they’d had enough of the modern music.) But presumably under Levine’s influence, the BSO created an elaborate and extensive museum-quality display of the life and work of Arnold Schoenberg. It was located in one of the large second-floor public rooms (no doubt at the sacrifice of considerable bar revenue) where the audience could view it before and after concerts and during intermission. It included biographical information and photos of Schoenberg with wives, family, and friends, even playing tennis, as well as reproductions of autograph scores and Schoenberg’s paintings. The display was effective at introducing us to Schoenberg as a man, informing us so as to allow us to appreciate the music from a wide platform of understanding. Program notes described musical motives and gave keys as to how the audience could follow the “story” and know specifically what the composer had in mind. Wonderful.
I know well from my travels that many people consider the pipe organ to be a hold-over from an earlier time. It is often and widely perceived as archaic, antediluvian, or eccentric. If we are not careful, if we fail to be good stewards and ambassadors of our instrument, that perception could become a self-fulfilling prophecy. We as educated and experienced lovers and practitioners of the organ must present the organ as a vital and integrated part of modern life. Offering concerts in the interest of the preservation of antiquity is both well and good (old music and old organs). But as we encourage congregations and concert halls to purchase pipe organs whose prices startle and amaze, we must present the organ and its music so as to raise the appreciation, awareness, and understanding of our audiences, and encourage their proselytizing. We must conscript the audience, not alienate it. The audience that goes home from a concert pleased and proud of its newly acquired knowledge will be more likely to come back than the audience that leaves a hall bewildered and excluded by the erudition of the performer.
Another old saw: “A rising tide floats all boats.” Bring your audience up to your level and everyone will be happy.
As I started with a river theme, so I’ll close with one. The Methuen Memorial Music Hall in Methuen, Massachusetts is a facility unique to American life, located on the shore of the Spicket River, a tributary of the Merrimack, which is a grand river meandering through New Hampshire and Massachusetts to the Atlantic Ocean at Newburyport, Massachusetts. Methuen resident and amateur organist and enthusiast Edward Francis Searles (1841–1920) started life in the fabric and interior design business and later had the immense good fortune of marrying Mary Frances Sherwood Hopkins, the widow of railroad magnate Mark Hopkins. The couple shared a deep interest in architecture and design until her death in 1891, when Mr. Searles inherited an immense fortune. In 1899 he acted on his love of the pipe organ, his love of architecture, and his wife’s fortune by commissioning Henry Vaughan (brilliant architect, famous for the design of many fabulous church buildings, notably the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C.) to design a hall for the monumental organ built by E. F. Walcker of Ludwigsburg, Germany, built for and subsequently rejected by the Boston Music Hall. Mr. Searles bought the instrument from storage at auction for $1500, established a resident organbuilding firm, installed the organ in the hall, and began its long-term renovation.
Organbuilder Ernest Skinner owned the building and the organ between 1931 and 1942, operated his company in the adjoining workshop, and presented concerts to the public including major choral works and recitals by the organ virtuosi of the day such as Marcel Dupré, Lynnwood Farnam, and E. Power Biggs. In 1946, the building and organ were acquired by a new charitable corporation created to operate the hall as a cultural center. Following several earlier periods of rebuilding and alteration, the organ was substantially rebuilt by Aeolian-Skinner in 1947 (Opus 1103), leaving little of the original character intact.2
There is no other experience in America like entering this building. The ornate Rococo interior is dominated by what must be one of the most massive, famous, and photogenic organ cases in the world. The trustees of the Methuen Memorial Music Hall (MMMH) present an annual series of Wednesday night organ recitals. You can learn more about the hall, the organ, the organization, and the recital series at their website: .
 

The show must go on.

During the week of May 21, 2006, New England experienced torrential and seemingly continuous rainstorms, and many areas suffered severe flooding—so severe that friends from Europe called to check in after seeing TV news reports about Methuen. By Monday, May 22, the water had risen above the top of the organ blower of the Methuen organ. (I’m told that the high-water mark is well up on the rubber-cloth sleeve above the blower!) The season’s opening concert (May 24) was cancelled and those scheduled for May 31 and June 7 were much in doubt, but with heroic efforts from trustees and the people of the Andover Organ Company (especially Robert Reich), the blower was dismantled and dried out, rectifiers repaired, and the organ was ready to play on Monday, May 29. Margaret Angelini (Dean of the Boston Chapter of the American Guild of Organists) was the scheduled recitalist for the 31st. She was gamely waiting in the wings not knowing if the organ would be ready, and of course losing most of her scheduled practice time! But the show must go on. A large and enthusiastic audience was on hand to hear a wonderful recital.
Though the organ is up and running and the recital series is continuing, there is a great deal of restorative work still to do. The trustees of the MMMH published this notice on their website:

We are back in operation!!!
The trustees and program committee of the Methuen Memorial Music Hall are pleased to inform you that we are resuming the 2006 summer recital series with the concert on May 31.
Please understand that the magnitude of the flood caused severe damage to the basement of the Hall, the organ blower, electrical systems and interior walls. We continue our recovery efforts. If you would like to make a donation in any amount to help us, it would be greatly appreciated. Contributions may be sent to:

Flood Recovery Fund
Methuen Memorial Music Hall, Inc. c/o Elaine M. Morissette
10 Overlook Drive
Methuen, Massachusetts 01844-2372

In tribute to this marvelous landmark of American culture, the people who care for it, and at the risk of offending the men and women of the United States Navy as I exercise my First Amendment right of free speech, I offer these words to be sung to Melita (the Navy Hymn):

Aeoli’n-Skinner, foreign made, your blower gurgles ’neath the waves.
We bid the mighty Merrimack, recede, dry out, and ne’er come back.
Oh hear us as we try to see the way to keep you mildew free.

Aeoli’n-Skinner, wide admired, your sounds for years have us inspired.
We feared you might not sing again—the forecast only told of rain.
Now Diapasons’ moistened breath show how you have forsaken death.

Aeoli’n-Skinner, grand encased, the flood has threatened, now effaced.
The waves now flow between the banks, our colleagues offer hymns of thanks.
The basement will be freed of mud, the Spicket’s spigot tames the flood.

A. E. Schlueter Pipe Organ Company, Lithonia, Georgia
New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary
Monday, August 29, 2005, Hurricane Katrina made landfall. The levee system failed, and over 80% of New Orleans was flooded. For weeks, portions of the city remained under water, with heat and moisture completing the destructive cycle that Katrina began. While waiting for the water to dissipate, we knew that the damage to persons and property would be immense.
Our firm was called by the New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary to evaluate and salvage the damaged instruments on the campus. Founded in 1917, the seminary sits on a 75-acre campus in the hardest-hit 9th Ward area of New Orleans. The Division of Church Music Ministries aims “to equip leaders for excellence in music ministry among Southern Baptists through performance, education, and technology.” Our charge was to assure that the musical resources were available for their mission.
What we found upon our arrival is perhaps best described by Seminary President Dr. Charles S. Kelly, Jr.:

Hurricane Katrina well and truly earned its designation as the worst natural disaster in the history of the United States. Our campus, like most of the city, was devastated. Our homes, many of our buildings, most of our grounds, and virtually all of our musical instruments were hit very, very, hard. The recovery process was long, difficult, and messy beyond anyone’s ability to describe. . . . What made our plight even more difficult was the massive damage to the rest of the campus and the severe losses sustained by our faculty, staff, and student families. The larger picture of what had to be done to reopen the campus and care for our families made allocation of the necessary dollars for the recovery of our lost and severely damaged instruments a very difficult thing to do.

Our work on the campus involved the protection and removal of many of the significant music instruments including multiple grand pianos, a harpsichord, and the 1954 Möller (III/27) and 1966 Aeolian-Skinner Opus 1468 (IV/38) pipe organs. Of prime concern was protecting the instruments to prevent further damage. In addition to water, the storm brought massive amounts of airborne contaminants into the instruments, and, with heat, mold.
The Möller organ, located in the Sellers Music Building Recital Hall, was damaged when the roof gave way, flooding the organ with thousands of gallons of water that passed through the two chambers and filled the pitman chests and winding system. When we arrived several weeks later and opened the chests, there was still a significant amount of water in the organ.
The Aeolian-Skinner was damaged when the 150-mile-per-hour winds blew out the window behind the organ. For hours on end, the outside became the inside as the storm vented its fury on the Skinner. As with the recital hall organ, we found water in the organ many weeks after the storm.
It was inevitable that there would be long and intense negotiations with insurance companies about the losses and rebuilding. The enormity of Katrina simply overwhelmed insurers. One could go on at length about the negotiations and the efforts and education that were required with the insurance companies. Suffice it to say that at one point the insurers appraised the older, smaller Möller at a greater amount than the larger, newer Aeolian-Skinner.
The Möller organ’s status was very clear cut because of the extreme damage to the chassis and its utilitarian design. The Aeolian-Skinner and its disposition was a thornier issue. The damage to the organ was severe, but with heroic measures it could have been restored. The problem was that a true restoration would involve tremendous expense that could exceed the organ’s replacement cost. The insurance company did not understand that if you replace the chests, swell box, some pipework, the winding system, and the console with new materials, the organ would cease to be Opus 1468. While we fought for funds for restoration, the client and our firm resolved that either the Skinner would be unaltered and restored without change, or if changes were required, that the resources would be folded into a new instrument. As negotiations concluded, funds available for the Skinner were not sufficient for a true restoration.
In addition to wide-ranging discussions about how the instruments would be used, we also traveled with Dr. Becky Lombard, professor of music theory and keyboard studies, to hear many of our recent instruments. We evaluated how these differing specifications might relate to the needs of the seminary and the church music program. From these visits it became apparent that we would build two distinctly different instruments.

Sellers Recital Hall (III/34)
The recital hall organ is used primarily for teaching and for literature performance. Space was limited, but we felt that the organ could be enlarged to provide additional resources not present in the 1954 instrument. With the performance of literature being the goal, choices had to be made about meeting the requirements of specific periods—yet the stoplist couldn’t be too era-specific.
The decision was made to design an instrument that could create the colors of all periods of music history. We also had to consider accompaniment of voice, both solo and choral. In this diminutive hall with seating for around 100, we had to create a rich, full palette without overwhelming the performer or listener. Tonally, the voicing is in a very clean, unforced style. There is crispness to registrations that will promote clean, articulate playing.
This organ had to be able to transform itself into any number of service instruments that the student might encounter in music ministry. The organ we designed is three manuals with 34 ranks of pipe resources. It is equally tempered to accommodate contemporary worship and use with piano accompaniment, and also offers full MIDI capability. This was the first instrument delivered to the campus.

Leavell Chapel (IV/83)
The chapel organ was designed with a different focus. While literature will be performed regularly, the organ’s role in service playing determined the overriding design. Each week chapel services are held and the organ is called on to support congregational singing and to accompany soloists. Collaborative performances with the organ and piano are quite common. The organ is also used to play for services with small numbers in the congregation and, at the end of each semester, for a “packed house” during graduation ceremonies, so a wide dynamic range was needed. The chapel is a cavernous space with seating for over 2000.
When the Aeolian-Skinner was installed, it had 38 ranks with “prepared for” Choir and Positiv divisions and additional Pedal and Great registers that were never added. The room had been acoustically altered from its 1966 incarnation, and the gently voiced Great and Swell on the Skinner did not have the presence required for this hall. Because of other uses of the chapel, the room had been softened with acoustically absorbent material, and this was to remain in place.
The new organ was conceived as a four-manual with Great, Swell, Choir, and Solo divisions. It is located on the central axis of the room on a shelf. The dimensions of this space are 36 feet wide and 18 feet deep.
It was important to the school that the room remain visually unaltered; so, the old façade and casework were restored. The Skinner 16′ Sub Principal was revoiced into a 16′ Violone for the Great division. The college wanted to leave the window at the rear of the organ, which was a concern thermally and acoustically. To overcome this problem, the new windows were designed as insulated units rated to resist a storm stronger than Katrina. We placed the enclosed expression boxes across the rear span of the space with inward partitions to provide our own back chamber wall. With a height of over 16 feet, the expression boxes provide a forward focus for the organ in addition to the needed thermal barrier, while still allowing light through the windows above the organ.
In designing the specification and scaling, I wanted to provide the resources that would allow the performer a vast array of color and weight, suitable for any repertoire. The organ was built with the classical underpinnings of principal, flute, and reed chorus structure to support classical and sacred repertoire; in a bow to Romanticism, I included elements of the American romantic or symphonic organ. This blending provides an instrument that would be evocative of early American Classicism, albeit with cleaner and more articulate flue choruses.
In concert with this eclectic tonal design, an expressive, floating Solo division was included. Included in this division are some of the rarer high-pressure stops, including French Horn, English Tuba, Solo Gamba and companion Celeste, and the hauntingly beautiful 8′ Philomela and 4′ Flauto Major.
We were able to retain about half of the Skinner resources, which were revoiced and rescaled for the new instrument. Some stops were either too damaged, or the material suspect, to consider their reuse. The original Skinner reeds were French in design and small-scaled. We felt that the size and acoustic of the chapel, in conjunction with the stoplist design, would be better served with English shallots, thicker tongues, and higher wind pressures. In addition to chorus reeds, the organ has a full battery of high wind pressure solo reeds that were duplexed in a floating Trompeteria division at multiple pitches with separate couplers.
In keeping with the accompanimental nature of the organ, each division is designed around an independent 8′-weighted principal chorus. The divisional choruses, while differing in color, are designed to be compounded as a unified whole. The mixtures in this instrument are pitched lower than what might be found in many contemporary instruments. Where additional treble ascendency is required, secondary higher-pitched mixtures were also included in each division, scaled and voiced to serve as a functional foil to the divisional chorus without stridency.
The strings and flutes in the expressive divisions are designed to build weightless accompaniment for choral work, or massed in support of romantic or transcription repertoire. The organ features a divided string division located among the Swell, Choir, and Solo divisions, to be compounded by means of couplers. Ever present, to be blended with this string chorus, is the 8′ Vox Humana, which has its own enclosure and tremulant.
With the exception of some 32′ Pedal registers and percussions, the organ does not include digital augmentation. We wanted the organ to stand on wind-blown resources. In support of this decision, we added an additional register to the Pedal—the independent 16′ Wood Open. Installed to the right and left of the center organ core and on 7½ inches of wind pressure, it provides a solid fundamental that is truly felt in the room.
Our experience in servicing instruments in this region has made us aware of the need for stability in the materials and action choices, due to the temperature extremes and constant humidity. The organ chest action is electro-pneumatic slider, with all reeds on electro-pneumatic unit action. The flue pipes and the reed pipes are thus on actions that maximize the speech characteristics of each type of pipe. This also allows the flues and reeds to be placed on differing wind pressures and tremulants. The wind is regulated with dual-curtain valve, spring and weighted reservoirs.
The wind pressures on this instrument vary from 4 to 18 inches. To control these resources, the expression boxes are built 1½ inches thick, with interlocking shades. Multiple motors are used on the shade fronts to allow a full dynamic gradation. The four-manual, drawknob console, built of mahogany and ebony, includes features such as multiple-level memory, transposer, Great/Choir manual transfer, piston sequencer, programmable crescendo and sforzando, record/playback capability, and MIDI.

Installation and voicing
The removal, building, and installation of these instruments were herculean tasks. It is an understatement to say that the staff of the Schlueter firm took up residence in New Orleans. I simply cannot give enough credit to the leadership of our senior organ builders Marc Conley, John Tanner, Rob Black, and Bud Taylor for the untold hours of travel and work that they put into these projects. Organ building cannot be achieved as the result of any one individual, but requires a skilled team. These individuals continue to exceed expectations in the creation of art.
From the outset, we decided that these two instruments would be voiced in the rooms, with the pipes arriving to the installation only prevoiced to allow full latitude with cut-ups and any required nicking. All of the samples were set in the chambers on their windchests and then the pipes were removed from the chambers. We brought a portable voicing machine and layout tables into spaces adjacent to the organ chambers to voice the pipes prior to their reinstallation in the chambers for final voicing and tonal finishing. Because of the size of these two projects, it was necessary to work as a team in tonal finishing, led by Daniel Angerstein, with the able assistance of John Tanner, Marc Conley, Bud Taylor, Kevin Cartwright, Lee Hendricks, and Gerald Schultz. As with so much of our previous work, I want to single out Dan and his contributions. In the many weeks of tonal finishing, he patiently brought forth the organs as they had been envisioned by the client and the builder.

Final thoughts
As we designed the two organs, it became clear that the organs that were desired could not be afforded by the school with the balance of their settlements. Over the years, we have been privileged to gift resources to churches. As owners, my father and I looked inward and decided that the importance of a continuing role of the organ in worship was a worthy cause. This required us to consider a donation, and without revealing the dollar value of our gifts, suffice it to say that there is a four-manual, 83-rank instrument where there had been a 38-rank instrument, and a 34-rank instrument where there had been a 27-rank instrument.
We would like to thank Dr. Charles Kelly, Dr. Becky Lombard, and Dr. Kenneth Gabrielse for their contributions and support during this project. Thanks also to our dedicated staff, listed on our website (www.pipe-organ.com).
Our tonal philosophy is to “build instruments that have warmth not at the expense of clarity, and clarity not at the expense of warmth, and to serve God in our efforts.” We pray that in future years our gifts endorse the importance of the organ in worship, and we hope that our instruments will plant the seeds of worship through music, for future students who pass through this institution.
—Arthur Schlueter III

New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, Leavell Chapel, four manuals, 83 ranks
GREAT – Manual II (unenclosed)
16′ Violone (73 pipes) (1–24 façade)
8′ First Open Diapason (Pedal)
8′ Second Open Diapason
8′ Principal (1–12 façade)
8′ Stille Principal (from Cornet)
8′ Violone (ext, 12 pipes)
8′ Harmonic Flute (49 pipes)
(1–12 common bass)
8′ Bourdon
4′ Octave
4′ Diapason (Pedal ext, 12 pipes)
4′ Nachthorn
22⁄3′ Twelfth
2′ Super Octave
V Cornet TC
2′ Mixture VI
1′ Scharf IV
16′ Contre Trumpet (ext, 12 pipes)
8′ Trumpet
8′ Tromba Heroique (Choir)
8′ English Tuba (Solo)
Tremolo
Gt/Gt 16′–Unison Off–4′
SWELL – Manual III (enclosed)
16′ Lieblich Gedeckt (ext, 12 pipes)
8′ Geigen Principal
8′ Rohr Gedeckt
8′ Viola de Gamba
8′ Voix Celeste
8′ Dolce
8′ Dolce Celeste (54 pipes)
4′ Principal
4′ Harmonic Flute
22⁄3′ Nazard
2′ Flageolet
13⁄5′ Tierce
22⁄3′ Plein Jeu V
1′ Klein Fourniture IV
16′ Contra Bassoon (ext, 12 pipes)
8′ Trumpet
8′ Oboe
8′ Vox Humana
4′ Clairon
Tremolo
Sw/Sw 16′–Unison Off–4′
CHOIR – Manual I (enclosed)
16′ Gemshorn (ext, 12 notes)
8′ Principal
8′ Hohl Flute
8′ Gemshorn
8′ Gemshorn Celeste (49 pipes)
4′ Principal
4′ Koppel Flute
22⁄3′ Nasat
2′ Principal
13⁄5′ Terz
11⁄3′ Larigot
11⁄3′ Choral Mixture IV
8′ Clarinet
8′ Tromba Heroique (high pressure)
8′ English Tuba (Solo)
8′ Trompette En Chamade (Trompeteria)
Tremolo
Chimes (digital)
Harp (digital)
Zimbelstern (9 bells)
Ch/Ch 16′–Unison Off–4′
SOLO – Manual IV (enclosed)
8′ Philomela
8′ Gamba
8′ Gamba Celeste
4′ Flauto Major
8′ French Horn
8′ Tromba Heroique (Choir)
8′ English Tuba (high pressure)
Tremulant
Solo/Solo 16′–Unison Off–4′
TROMPETERIA – Manual IV
16′ Tromba Heroique (Choir)
8′ Tromba Heroique (Choir)
4′ Tromba Heroique (Choir)
16′ English Tuba (Solo)
8′ English Tuba (Solo)
4′ English Tuba (Solo)
8′ Trompette En Chamade (high pressure)
Trompeteria Unison Off
Trompeteria on Great
Trompeteria on Swell
Trompeteria on Choir
PEDAL
32′ Violone (digital)
32′ Bourdon (digital)
16′ Open Wood
16′ Principal (ext, 12 pipes)
16′ Violone (Great)
16′ Gemshorn (Choir)
16′ Subbass
16′ Lieblich Gedeckt (Swell)
8′ Octave Bass
8′ Violone (Great)
8′ Bass Flute (ext, 12 pipes)
8′ Spitz Flute
4′ Choral Bass
4′ Nachthorn
22⁄3′ Mixture V
32′ Harmonics (wired cornet series)
32′ Contra Trombone (digital)
16′ Trombone (ext, 12 pipes, enclosed in Ch)
16′ Contre Trumpet (Great)
16′ Contra Bassoon (Swell)
8′ Tuba (Solo)
8′ Tromba (Choir)
8′ Trumpet (Great)
4′ Tromba Clarion (Choir)

Standard couplers and MIDI

New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, Sellers Recital Hall, three manuals, 34 ranks

GREAT
16′ Pommer (Choir)
8′ Gedeckt Pommer (Choir)
8′ Principal
8′ Bourdon
4′ Octave
4′ Nachthorn
4′ Gedeckt (Choir)
2′ Super Octave
11⁄3′ Fourniture IV
16′ Contre Trompette (Swell)
8′ Trompette (Swell)
8′ Clarinet (Choir)
8′ Festival Trumpet (Pedal)
Tremolo
Chimes
Great 4′

SWELL (expressive)
16′ Contra Viola (ext, 12 pipes)
8′ Gedeckt
8′ Viola de Gambe
8′ Viola Celeste (49 pipes)
4′ Principal
4′ Spitzflute
22⁄3′ Nazard
2′ Blockflute
13⁄5′ Tierce
2′ Plein Jeu III–IV
16′ Basson-Hautbois (ext, 12 pipes)
8′ Trompette
8′ Festival Trumpet (Pedal)
8′ Hautbois
4′ Hautbois (ext, 12 pipes)
Tremolo
Swell 16′–Unison Off–4′

CHOIR (expressive)
16′ Pommer
8′ Koppel Flute
8′ Viola
8′ Viole Dolce
8′ Viole Dolce Celeste TC
4′ Principal
4′ Gedeckt (ext, 24 pipes, from 16′)
2′ Gemshorn
11⁄3′ Larigot
8′ Clarinet
8′ Festival Trumpet (Pedal)
Celesta (digital)
Harp (digital)
Tremolo
Choir 16′–Unison Off–4′

PEDAL
32′ Bourdon (digital)
16′ Principal (digital)
16′ Contra Viola (Swell)
16′ Sub Bass
16′ Pommer (Choir)
8′ Principal
8′ Viola (Swell)
8′ Bourdon (ext, 12 pipes)
8′ Gedeckt (Choir)
4′ Choral Bass (ext, 12 pipes)
4′ Bourdon (ext, 12 pipes)
4′ Viola (ext, 12 pipes)
32′ Posaune (digital)
16′ Contre Trompette (ext, 12 pipes)
16′ Hautbois (ext, 12 pipes)
8′ Trompette (Swell)
8′ Hautbois (Swell)
4′ Hautbois (Swell)
4′ Clarinet (Choir)

Standard couplers and MIDI

On a personal note
“New Orleans Spared”—Such was the erroneous headline of the newspaper in Savannah, Georgia, on the morning after Hurricane Katrina. At the time, the Schlueter firm was completing the organ at First Presbyterian Church in Savannah (featured in The Diapason, April 2006). My father, members of the installation crew, and I had stared anxiously at the news the previous evening and wondered about our friends in New Orleans and outlying areas. Our firm has worked in the aftermath of a number of major hurricanes and storms in recovery and restoration efforts. Unlike these other disasters, every day the situation in New Orleans grew steadily worse.
Almost exactly one year prior to Katrina, we had completed the rebuilding, relocation, and enlargement of the IV/74 instrument for the First Baptist Church in New Orleans. We made many acquaintances during this period, and through the Internet we were able to find many of our friends who had fled to other cities and states. We prepared for what would face us when the water receded and we could make our way into the city.
It was surreal as the shop vehicles were packed with our own stores of food, water, fuel and medicine for the trip. As we neared the Gulf Coast, the sheer enormity of the disaster began to unfold. We crossed Lake Pontchartrain’s 24-mile causeway on a road that had been reduced to a single lane, following the collapse of entire spans of the eastbound lanes. As we arrived in the evening, the scene before us was a macabre black hole that enveloped the city. From the elevated roadway, the marginally lit downtown of New Orleans was surrounded by a dark, lightless void for miles and miles, indicating the extent of the flooding. We arrived in the city under martial law, and had to learn the intricacies of identification and going through armed checkpoints.
With the daylight, the enormity of the flood was overwhelming. Driving into the 9th Ward, you could see watermarks that were many feet over one’s head. Homes, businesses, and structures sported the hieroglyphics of spray paint, with X’s, O’s and slashes to indicate that the structures had been searched and what had been found. Traveling around places once familiar, we found abandoned cars, collapsed buildings, and most distressingly, an absence of life. When we talked with people we knew and asked what we could do, the answer was always the same, “Pray for us.”
In the ensuing months that stretched out over two years for the three instruments we worked on, we became emotionally involved with the city and its people. We came to New Orleans to work on behalf of the First Baptist Church of New Orleans and the New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, and to restore part of their community. When we visit today, there are still signs of Katrina that only the passage of time will erase, but undeniable is the resilience of the people as they seek to rebuild their community. It is our hope that our response to Katrina on behalf of this community exemplifies “laborare est orare.”
—Arthur Schlueter III

The Sweelinck Organ Project at St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, Antelope, California
Named after the influential Netherlands composer, Jan Pieterszoon Sweelinck (1562–1621), this project centers on the creation of a pipe organ of a kind known in Northern Europe in the 17th century. Thus, it offers a glimpse into a musical world of the early Baroque period, with echoes of the Renaissance still clearly audible. Not a replica of any specific organ, the Sacramento Sweelinck Organ represents a synthesis of features common to many smaller instruments from this region and period.
Aside from its anticipated use as an instrument for performance practice study, the organ is played weekly in traditional church services at St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church in Antelope, California, in a deliberate attempt to test the feasibility of using such a highly focused instrument to support modern congregational worship, in this case using The Hymnal 1982 and Lift Every Voice and Sing II.
Research and design of the organ was carried out in 2004–2005 by Dr. Lee T. Lovallo, assistant professor at National University’s Sacramento campus and music director at St. Andrew’s. Construction was begun in late 2005 in collaboration with organbuilder Rick Simms and included help from a number of volunteers. Painting and gilding of the case doors in a traditional design was executed by Sacramento artist Theodore Sanders of National University. The calligraphy of the stop labels and the carving of the motto at the top of organ (“Singen wir aus Herzens Grunde”—“Let us sing from the depths of our hearts”) were executed by St. Andrew’s parishioner George Simpson.
The organ was dedicated on April 18, 2009 by Dr. David Rothe of California State University, Chico, in a recital that featured music from the Robertsbridge Codex through Sweelinck and early Bach. The organ features:
mechanical key and stop action;
hand-pumped, single-fold wedge-shaped bellows and low wind pressure (65 mm) without wind stabilizers;
visual design, including decorated case doors, typical of period instruments;
keyboards and pedalboard utilizing short octaves, period key dimensions and shapes, limited compasses (CDEF GA–c3), and an early-style shove coupler to connect the manuals;
tuning at high choir pitch (Chorton, A = 460) in ¼ comma meantone temperament;
construction materials chosen from locally available lumber, animal hides and glues, and recycled components from older instruments; and
construction techniques employing period joinery and period finishes.
—Lee T. Lovallo, Ph.D.
National University, Sacramento

HAUPTWERK
8′ Prinzipal
4′ Oktav
3′ Quint
2′ Oktav
Mixtur II
8′ Gedackt
8′ Spitzflöte
8′ Regal
8′ Schalmey

UNTERWERK
8′ Quintadena
4′ Prinzipal (TC)
2′ Blockflöte (TC)
8′ Krummhorn (TC)

PEDAL
16′ Subbaß
8′ Tromba
Accessories
Nachtigal, Zymbelstern, Tremulant, Calcant signal, Pedal pull-down to HW, intermanual shove coupler, hand-raised wind option

============================================================================

Parkey OrganBuilders,
Duluth, Georgia
St. Peter’s Episcopal Church,
Talladega, Alabama
In early 2008 we received a call from Jim Dorroh of Birmingham, Alabama, regarding the restoration of a 1904 Hook & Hastings tracker organ. Dr. Dorroh had been asked to serve as the consultant for the project. In our discussions, it was explained that the organ had suffered extensive water damage due to a storm-ravaged roof in the spring. We made the arrangements to meet with the committee from St. Peter’s, along with my shop supervisor, Michael Morris.
At our initial visit the organ was unplayable. The water had severely damaged both the Great and Swell chests, along with the felt and leather components in the action. Our firm and several other firms agreed that the only option was to completely remove the organ and restore the entire instrument. The organ was removed and shipped back to our location in Norcross, Georgia, in summer 2008. Once the organ was in our shop, we completely dismantled the rest of the windchests and components for further inspection. As originally suspected, the Great and Swell windchests were a total loss. The metal pipework survived well, though repairs to some of the wooden pipes were necessary.
The organ was originally installed in the First Baptist Church of Talladega in 1904, and subsequently was sold and moved to St. Peter’s in 1934. Though the church constructed a new building at that time, the provisions for space for the organ were not ideal. During reinstallation, part of the façade was installed in the chamber, and the organ sat recessed in its alcove. The organ had gone through some minor renovations in the 1980s. Sometime after that renovation, another builder removed the 8′ Salicional from the Swell and installed an 8′ Trumpet in its place. Due to the pitfalls of changes and “upgrades,” service and tuning was precarious at best.
Working with Dr. Dorroh, we discussed and agreed that new Great and Swell chests were in order. We also discussed the options of some minor relocation of the organ. This allowed most of the chambered façade pipes to be returned their original position in the façade and provided better access for service and tuning. The church also agreed to raise additional funds to allow for the reinstallation of the 8′ Salicional (while retaining the 8′ Trumpet) and to install a needed 2′ stop in the Great division. Since the church was agreeable to extending the organ out of the chamber and new chests were in order, the additional stops were easy to accommodate.
The work ensued and the organ began to take shape in our shop in early 2009. The keyboards were restored in ivory; new stopknobs and stop actions were provided in the historical fashion of the existing stop actions. Existing woodwork was repaired and refinished, and new casework was constructed as needed. The façade pipes were stripped and repainted.
The organ had a blower installed in 1934, which was later replaced. During its replacement, another reservoir was added atop the Swell box. This reservoir proved larger than necessary, and since the reservoir had water damage we opted to install a smaller reservoir. The church also provided a much better blower enclosure space. The original Hook & Hastings double-rise reservoir, though water-damaged and leaking, was intact and in position. Our revision to the winding system preserved the double-rise reservoir, as this is key to the gentle flex and stability of the wind. A new curtain valve box was provided.
As do most builders, we often build new organs; however, projects such as this are a great exercise and study for our staff to experience. As a tonal director, I find it is a good study in the format of building not a recital organ, but a church organ. Each stop in the instrument fills an appropriate position with respect to sound, color, and volume. The organ features a string in each division to balance two colorful flutes, a Stopped Diapason and a Melodia. The organ features Diapasons at 8′ and 4′ pitches on the Great. Our task for the 2′ was to achieve clarity without being strident. After all the pipework had undergone cleaning and regulation back to its original state, many were surprised at the return of color and speech intonations.
The organ was officially heard and rededicated to service on Easter Sunday, April 12, 2009. Dan Miller, choirmaster/organist, played the service, which was presided over by Father Ray Walden, Priest in Charge, and the Bishop of Alabama.
Our appreciation goes out to Dr. Jim Dorroh, Dan Miller, Father Walden, and the congregation of St. Peter’s. How delightful it was that a congregation took such interest in the return of their instrument in the weeks leading up to Easter. The return of the organ on Easter Sunday could not have been more fitting.
—Phil Parkey

GREAT (unenclosed)
8′ Open Diapason 61 pipes
8′ Melodia 61 pipes
8′ Dulciana 61 pipes
4′ Octave 61 pipes
2′ Super Octave 61 pipes
Swell to Great 8′
Swell to Great 4′

SWELL (enclosed)
8′ Salicional 61 pipes
(reinstalled)
8′ Stopped Diapason 61 pipes
4′ Harmonic Flute 61 pipes
8′ Oboe 61 pipes
8′ Trumpet 61 pipes
(by another builder)
Tremulant

PEDAL
16′ Bourdon 30 pipes
Great to Pedal
Swell to Pedal
Toe stud reversible for Open Diapason stop
Zimbelstern operated via toe stud reversible (later addition)

Fifty-two registrants from 21 states gathered in sun-soaked Lincoln, Nebraska for the 21st annual University of Nebraska-Lincoln Organ Conference held September 17-19, 1998. The title of the conference was "Perspectives on Recent and Future American Organbuilding," with five organbuilders invited to give lectures: Gene Bedient, John Brombaugh, Steven Dieck of C.B. Fisk, Manuel Rosales, and George Taylor. Gene Bedient immediately answered a question which had been on my mind by saying that all organbuilding is historically informed to some degree, suggesting that a better term would be "historically inspired." In the case of the five builders represented at the UNL conference, being historically inspired indicates producing instruments which emulate specific features of European organbuilding of past centuries. The list of historic attributes these builders employ includes mechanical action, low wind pressure, wedge bellows, stop nomenclature, flat pedal boards, mechanisms such as ventils, shove couplers, split keys and short octaves, 56 or 58 note keyboards, elements of case design, and of course, scaling and voicing appropriate to replicating historic sounds. These builders have comprehensive knowledge about historical styles developed through extensive study of instruments built by Schnitger, Silbermann, Clicquot, and Cavaillé Coll, among others, and working under the tutelage of builders such as von Beckerath, Flentrop, Noack and Fisk.

Each builder was given a two-hour time slot to reflect on his work and to address the following questions:

How have your organs been influenced by historic organs? By today's practices?

What is the future of historically informed organbuilding?

Can you envision your firm being influenced by the American Classic style of organbuilding?

How have your perspectives on organbuilding and your instruments changed over the years?

What organbuilding problems or questions currently interest you?

What new directions might your firm take in the future?

What do you consider to be your most important contributions to American organbuilding?

 In the mahogany-paneled conference room of the Wick Alumni Center, armed with slides and specifications, each builder spoke about his background, how he got established in organbuilding, and shared information about his most important projects.

Builders' Lectures

Gene Bedient took the audience on a tour of his opus list, narrating his slide presentation with descriptions of the historic influences and techniques used in building each instrument. Bedient's early work is concentrated on the 18th-century French and North German styles, perhaps culminating in the organ built for St. Mark's Episcopal Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan, an approximation of the French classic style, complete with marche pied pedal board. Opus 22, a two-manual organ for the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist in Charleston, South Carolina completed in 1987, brought a transition to the 19th-century French style. Organs for St. Rita Catholic Church, Dallas, Texas (1992), and Idlewild Presbyterian Church, Memphis, Tennessee (1989), were also built along French 19th-century lines, including ventils, orage, and octaves graves couplers. Opus 52 and Opus 53, completed in 1996 and 1997 respectively, incorporated American Classic ideas, combining North German elements in the Great and Pedal with French ideas in the Swell, in one case retaining a contrebasse in the pedal on 5≤ of wind and providing a concave-radiating pedal board. At that time, work was in progress on a Spanish-style instrument for the Cathedral of St. Vincent de Paul in Omaha.

Bedient concluded his lecture by outlining his contributions to the field of organbuilding: educating American organists about French instruments by building historically-inspired instruments, interesting children in the pipe organ, promoting the viability of small instruments, educating people about the cost of a pipe organ, and efficiency and production control. He summarized his view of the American Classic organ as including standard 61-note keyboards, a concave-radiating pedal board, combination action, and equal temperament, with a main goal of the style being accessibility.

John Brombaugh took a conversational approach in his lecture, relating his early fascination with Hammond organs and love for the sound of old organs which developed from listening to recordings made by E. Power Biggs. He has been strongly influenced by North German organs, having spent time working in Hamburg, and receiving training from Noack, Fisk, and von Beckerath. Brombaugh is particularly fascinated with old Dutch instruments, most notably those in Gronigen, which he toured with Harald Vogel.

Reminding the audience that the organ is primarily a musical instrument, one of the oldest types of instruments in existence, Brombaugh asserted that ancient organs were very musical, and music was written for them because of their sounds, rather than the present practice of building organs to accommodate repertoire. He sees great value in studying organs older than those of the North German and French Classic styles. He also added that he believes all major cultural centers need mean-tone organs in order to hear early music in the temperament for which it was written. Brombaugh sees historic instruments as the basis and foundation for his work, and uses them as a guide to help him develop his own style. He believes organs built today according to historical styles will not be exact copies, but will bear the mark of the individual builder, in his case a strong North German accent. This belief influenced his choice of the Italian style for the organ he built for Duke University chapel since he felt he could build an Italian-style instrument most authentically, providing a good contrast to the Flentrop and Skinner organs already in the chapel. 

Brombaugh entertained questions from the audience, one of which spurred a discussion about acoustics in American churches and whether or not they provide a hospitable environment for European/historic organ sounds. He responded by saying American organbuilding has developed and evolved despite acoustical limitations, and organbuilders having developed ways of dealing with those conditions, adding that one has to be realistic about what he's building. He suggested the best way to approach bad acoustics is to keep in mind the functions the organ needs to fulfill, especially in relation to congregational singing.

Anticipation was in the air as Steve Dieck approached the podium, tacitly acknowledging the Fisk company's lofty stature in the organ-building world and expectation that the lecture would be first-rate. We were not disappointed. Dieck laid the groundwork for his remarks by suggesting that Fisk's work has always been influenced by historic instruments.  He construes such instruments as tools to help us become informed about a particular style. He believes the American approach is to take elements from the past and combine them into something new, aspiring to create instruments that can "do it all." Citing the work of G. Donald Harrison, Holtkamp, and Schlicker, Dieck proposed that his firm and others are continuing the American Classic style, a remark which elicited a noticeable shuffling among the other builders present. Dieck said that working with clients guides eclecticism through discussions about their needs and wants, adding that organbuilders are always learning. Following his studies at DePauw University, Dieck apprenticed with Charles Fisk. He had originally investigated studying in Germany with von Beckerath, but von Beckerath advised him to work with Fisk.

Pointing out the noteworthy features of each project, Dieck focussed his remarks on the innovations and eclectic qualities of the following Fisk instruments, in addition to citing historic influences: Wellesley College, Mount Holyoke College, the University of Michigan, Memorial Church at Stanford University, Meadows School of the Arts at Southern Methodist University, House of Hope Presbyterian Church, Meyerson Symphony Center, and Rice University. Interspersed among his slides of facades and keyboards were many photos of the internal details of the instruments. A highlight of the slide presentation was pictures taken during the assembly of the Meyerson organ, including the 32' pipes being hoisted into place. As we viewed those slides, Dieck mentioned that one of the Fisk company's most important contributions has been success in the concert hall market.

Manuel Rosales began his organbuilding career by working at the Schlicker company, later establishing his own company at the prompting of Charles Fisk. He prefers not to focus on just one style, and has yet to build an organ than can "play it all." He believes it's important to build different types of organs, keeping in mind the needs of the client, especially when the client is a church. Although his earlier projects had been more eclectic, Rosales' Opus 14 for Mission San José in Fremont, California was inspired by the organs of Mexico and Spain, tuned in quarter-comma mean tone, which makes early music come alive. The organ for First Presbyterian Church, Oakland is the largest instrument Rosales has built and was inspired by Fisk's House of Hope organ, with an emphasis on early French and French romantic sounds. Here again, the topic of acoustics surfaced. Given a sanctuary with a dry acoustic, as in the case of First Presbyterian Oakland, Rosales said that to give the impression of a better acoustical environment, he gave the organ more strength to surround the listener with sound. Rosales also shared his thoughts about the organ at Rice University, a collaboration with Fisk, noting that it was his dream organ to build since it is very gratifying to build an instrument for a client whose wishes closely match his own ideas.

Of particular interest were Rosales' plans for an organ for the new Walt Disney Concert Hall in Los Angeles, a performing arts center for the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra. Rosales has proposed an instrument which he describes as French/German/eclectic/ traditional/modern, designed to functional well with an orchestra, respect the music of the past, and stir up controversial ideas for the future. The Llamarada division will feature a battery of southern Californian/Spanish reeds, including a horizontal "Trompeta de Los Angeles." Following the architect's concept for the structure, which is based on curves and a scrupulous avoidance of straight lines, Rosales has explored the possibility of building curved wood pipes which will still be tonally functional.

George Taylor, a native of Virginia, has had a life-long friendship with John Boody, and in his early organ-building days worked with John Brombaugh as well. He spent three and a half years working under von Beckerath in Hamburg, an experience he says taught him the discipline he needed to be a successful organbuilder. Taylor has always been interested in all types of music and has a special fondness for hymn singing.  He was initially interested in more eclectic instruments and studied many American Classic stoplists, but soon became disillusioned with the style. The organs tended to "look great on paper," but he generally found the sounds disappointing and began to search for something musically more rewarding.

His early organbuilding days were characterized by experimentation. Recalling his exploration of the use of short keyboards and bone keys, Taylor recounted a memorable episode in which he ventured to the slaughterhouse to acquire the needed bone. Early projects reflected his experimental bent, and he cited organs built for a church in Vincennes, Indiana, for which he developed what he affectionately calls a "Hoosier flute," and a church in Charlottesville, Virginia which has shutters on the back of the Brustwerk.

Taylor spoke about his landmark instruments for St. Thomas Church in New York City and Holy Cross Chapel in Worcester, Massachusetts, both of whose cases were modeled on those of early Dutch instruments. He was much more animated, however, when he began to talk about a recent project--the restoration of a two-manual Tannenberg organ located at the Museum of Southern Decorative Arts in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Taylor treated the audience to a slide-show, giving us a glimpse into the painstaking work required to decipher the disparate components of the fragile treasure and bring its beautiful sounds to life again.

When the topic of acoustics surfaced once more, Taylor strongly recommended that builders always urge churches to improve their acoustics, even if they are already fairly good.  He believes acoustics are 80 percent of the success of any organ. He feels the biggest challenge for contemporary organbuilding in the United States is the wide variety of settings builders must work in. European builders in the past had much more consistency of venue.

Lunchtime Tours

On Friday, the conference schedule included an extended break in the middle of the day for lunch and visits to organs in Lincoln churches, provided one wasn't bothered by extensive walking in the sun and 90-degree heat. For a community of its size, the list of significant instruments in Lincoln is impressive. Participants could choose from the following array: 1969 4-manual Aeolian-Skinner at First Presbyterian, 1998 4-manual Schoenstein (then under construction) at First-Plymouth Congregational, 1991 3-manual Van Daalen at First Lutheran, an 1875 2-manual Kilgen at First Christian Science, 1984 3-manual Rieger, a 1976 3-manual Casavant at Westminster Presbyterian, and four 2-manual Bedient instruments, among others.

Christie Recital

On Friday evening conference participants were joined by a local audience for a recital played by James David Christie on the Hoesch Memorial Organ at Cornerstone Chapel. The instrument is Gene Bedient's Opus 8, a 20-stop, 2-manual tracker organ of 17th-century design. Not surprisingly, Christie's program featured 16th, 17th, and 18th-century music, including works by Buxtehude, Sweelinck, Scheidemann, Scheidt, Johann Bernard Bach, and Christie's own transcription of a Vivaldi concerto. His playing was rhythmically vibrant: spirited and buoyant in the quick tempos, sensitively nuanced on the slow pieces. The most striking element of his playing was the ornamentation. All too often, ornamentation is appended to early literature and the effect is like that of a stylish but ill-fitting suit which merely draws attention to itself. Christie's ornaments were a natural outgrowth of the music, fully integrated into the texture and rhythm. Located in the gallery of the intimate chapel, the Bedient organ has a commanding presence in the room, but is not piercing or overpowering. The sound has warmth and depth as well as an elegant clarity, enhanced by the organ's elevated position and the high ceiling and peaked roof of the chapel, whose acoustics hinted at ambience.

Panel Discussion

Each year, the conference closes with a panel discussion, allowing participants to interact with the lecturers and performers and formulate conclusions about conference topics. George Ritchie opened this year's discussion by suggesting that 20th-century organbuilding has swung back and forth between the eclecticism of the American Classic style and the purity of historic styles. He asked each of the builders to identify where along that continuum they are most comfortable; they offered a spectrum of responses.

Dieck said that historic builders continually developed their styles, and he feels that American builders should do likewise, continuing to grow as they interact with clients. Rosales said an organ such as the one at House of Hope goes too far, trying to do too many things. Instruments can be built to do one thing really well and other things reasonably well, though every organ should be suitable for playing Bach. Bedient believes the eclectic organ is a product of the need for organs to do many things since the role of the organ is different now than at any other time in history. He strives to build instruments which will be as useful as possible, serving the needs of his clients, although he admitted that hearing literature on the "right" instruments is preferable. Taylor wants to build instruments designed to accompany hymn singing and have a thrilling sound. He questioned whether certain historical sounds are right for American churches, adding that organs for our time need to be built the way we think they should sound. In small instruments, he noted that consistency is very important, but in larger instruments, eclectic questions surface. Small historical instruments have far more flexibility than one might imagine, however, he was quick to add. As he had stated in his lecture, Brombaugh believes that above all the organ must be a musical instrument and expressed dismay at recent developments which have gotten away from that. He sees the need for many different types of instruments, each of which can handle a specific literature.

When the floor was opened for questions from the audience, a participant commented that bringing the best of the past forward is good, but the use of short keyboards and flat pedal boards is a tragedy. Several others chimed in, expressing frustration with flat pedal boards, short-compass keyboards, and non-adjustable benches, viewing them as impediments. The builders were asked why they build short compass keyboards and flat pedal boards. Steve Dieck responded by saying that whatever we build, we're imitating European models, creating instruments like those for which the music was created. He noted that the concave pedal board is actually English. He prefers a flat pedal board because it's more sensitive with tracker action, adding that he sees a new American standard of building flat pedal boards developing. John Brombaugh gave the example of a project for which he provided two pedal boards--one flat, one concave--reporting that the flat pedal board is the one which is used regularly. His rationale for short compass keyboards is putting your energy where the notes are played most since the uppermost notes of the keyboard are used only one percent of the time. All of the builders acknowledged the need for the organist to be comfortable, however.

Another participant raised the subject of digital sounds and the use of MIDI. In response, Rosales queried, "Why have samples when you can have the real thing? Electronic sounds, even for 32' stops, are ghastly." Brombaugh agreed, adding his assertion that if an instrument incorporates electronic sounds then it's not truly a pipe organ. His colleagues nodded their assent.

Wanting to delve further into the American Classic issue, I asked the builders if they agreed with a statement Steve Dieck had made in his lecture proposing that their work is continuing the American Classic style. Bedient answered by saying the American Classic style has come to represent thin, uninteresting sounds, a departure from its early, much more colorful manifestations. Dieck reaffirmed the point he had made in his lecture, but also suggested that perhaps historic influences are handled differently now than they have been in the past. Taylor said it depends what you mean by the American Classic style: Does it refer to a console style? What are the style's characteristics in the minds of organists? Rosales thinks G. Donald Harrison was a great innovator and believes that had he lived longer, Harrison might have been building tracker organs. Tracker action is not tied to a particular sound in Rosales' mind.

One particularly astute participant commented that perhaps organbuilding at the end of the 20th century will ultimately define the American Classic style, rather than what has come before. I was left with the impression that there is much more to be explored on the subject, and made work of speaking with each of the builders one-on-one, in order to illuminate the intertwined paths of the so-called "historically inspired" and "American Classic" styles of organbuilding further. My findings will be presented in a future article.

The conference was excellent throughout. The subject matter was thoughtfully conceived and clearly outlined in the brochure promoting the event, and in fact, is what initially piqued my interest in attending. In just 48 hours, I received a fascinating glimpse into the world of organbuilding and a valuable opportunity to get a personal impression of the builders who are fundamentally shaping the pipe organ scene in this country. The program was ambitious, but the events were sensibly scheduled, allowing adequate time for breaks, meals, a stroll around town, and a peak into the UNL bookstore filled with Cornhusker regalia. The registration fee was an inexpensive $40 ($20 for students) and lodging prices were reasonable. I hadn't previously visited Nebraska and confess to having had stereotypes in my mind, but I was pleasantly surprised when I arrived. The vast flatness of the plains, congestion-free airport, and unpretentious affability of the citizens were refreshing. George Ritchie and his colleagues are providing a great service by offering this high quality educational opportunity each year.

The smell of quietness
I’m writing from New York City on the evening of Sunday, November 18. It’s five days before Thanksgiving, and Fifth Avenue is festooned with every gaudy bauble imaginable. European tourists are spending their gargantuan euros, spreading Christmas cheer from Gucci’s to Saks, from the Disney Store to the NBA Store. Elaborate light displays draw attention to $5,000 handbags, displays of shoes worthy of Imelda, and unimaginably expensive jewelry. Chestnuts are roasting on open fires. They smell terrific, blending with the bustle of the city. My mind’s eye flashes an image of the fireplace in our house, associating the smell of the chestnuts with sitting in the peace of that favorite of rooms. One of the carts selling chestnuts had middle-Eastern music playing over loudspeakers—no doubt a nod to the indigenous music of Bethlehem, Palestine, or the West Bank. Fitting. I’m pretty sure that the shepherds gathering in the alley behind The Inn were not singing four-part-harmony in the key of G. I’m pretty sure that snowy flakes weren’t falling softly, clothing all the world in white. In fact, I’m pretty sure that the shepherds weren’t white!
People are wearing Santa hats. And it’s snowing. It’s okay for it to snow in Manhattan, but it’s pretty early for snow here. I wonder if the Fifth Avenue Merchants Association made a special arrangement. Maybe Donald Trump has a connection—the ultimate networker. It would be better if he’d make it rain in Atlanta—they really need the water.
One of the stores is broadcasting Christmas music out to the sidewalk, I’m especially attracted to the meaningful Christmas favorite, the former nun singing, “these are a few of my favorite things.” Is there a Willcocks descant for that one? Maybe Rutter . . .
WWJD? I’ll tell you what he’d do, he’d go to Evensong at St. Thomas Church, Fifth Avenue at 53rd Street.
I’m staying in a little hotel on 54th Street, two blocks east of Fifth Avenue. It’s a pretty quiet street, but turning left onto Fifth is like entering a festive war zone. It’s mobbed, it’s noisy, a little scary for someone who woke up this morning in rural Maine. Walking into St. Thomas Church is like walking into another world. In fact, it is another world. It’s a world of serenity and grandeur, of peace and spirituality. It’s a world created by the best of human effort through design and craftsmanship. And just like the gaudy, extravagant, commercial scene outside, it’s the product of great wealth. In contrast to the neighboring stores that are bursting with Santas, inside the church, above the high altar is a reredos bursting with Saints. While some reredoses (or is it reredosi?) feature saints that are neatly tucked into their niches, some of those at St. Thomas Church are renegades—bursting out of their little spaces as though they were in conversation with each other, gesticulating, looking this way and that, making their points for the ages to witness. I don’t know the dimensions, but I guess that the thing is more than 50 feet tall. There’s a beautiful photo on the church’s website at <http://www.saint thomaschurch.org/interiorview.html>.
Perhaps it’s a crude question, but what would something like that cost? If we figure the price of a new organ as “so much per stop,” is the price of a reredos “so much per saint?” There must be 20 tons of stone involved, and heaven knows how many hours of skilled work taking away all the stone that doesn’t look like saints. We who regularly install organs might be able to imagine what it’s like to install stone carvings on this scale. But radically different from the commercialism on the street outside, this vast expenditure of money, skill, and human effort is dedicated and devoted to the glory of God as an eloquent expression of faith.
The choir stalls, pulpit, lectern, and organ case are all elaborately carved so that their massive construction appears delicate, even wispy in a few places. And the fabric of the building is stone, that most unyielding of media. Drop one stone on to another and you get chips, a little dust, even splitting in two. The fact that the graceful curves of the arches and ribs on the ceiling are made of stone defies the character of the natural material. And by the way, those active saints in the reredos are also “chips off the old block.”
There is a magnificent quietness to a building like this. You can hear distant noises from the street—an impatient taxi, an indignant pedestrian—and you can hear subway trains rattling up the River Styx, but these noises seem only to enhance the quietness. There’s a tinge of incense mixed with beeswax that is the peculiar smell of an Anglican church. It is the smell of quietness. Organbuilders know that the higher up you get in the building, the stronger the smell gets. It must be quieter up in the Solo Organ!
Another brilliant visual spectacle in this church is the richly decorated organ built by Taylor & Boody in the rear gallery, displayed with stunning lighting, and festooned with gold leaf. If you don’t notice it when you arrive, it can take your breath away as you stand, turn, and walk out of the church. This organ wasn’t used tonight—what we heard was the Skinner/Aeolian-Skinner organ in the chancel.
Sitting in the Gothic half-light before the service started, listening to and smelling the silence, I reflected on the complicated processes that go into the creation of monumental art works like the reredos, the organ, or the building itself. Having been involved in many projects building, restoring, and moving organs, I have firsthand experience with the complexities of the conversations that lead to the creation of these things. Moving from concept to vision to fundraising to design to construction to completion, these great efforts are both challenging and rewarding.
In Craig Whitney’s entertaining and informative book about the 20th-century American pipe organ, All the Stops, we read that during June of 1956 G. Donald Harrison, the famed creator of so many wonderful Aeolian-Skinner organs, was hard at work supervising the completion of the large organ in the chancel at St. Thomas Church, racing against the calendar to have the organ ready for the convention of the American Guild of Organists. In the late afternoon of June 14, Mr. Harrison left St. Thomas feeling unwell, walked eight blocks home because of a taxi strike, had dinner with his wife Helen, turned on the television to watch a performance by musician and humorist Victor Borge, and died of a heart attack at 11 pm. (I was a couple days short of three months old.)
I find in this story a link between a creative genius involved in great and enduring work and the passage of life. I wonder what stops Harrison was working on that last day? What was the last pipe he handled? Did I hear that pipe tonight? Did he know as he left the church that he would not be back? Did he stop for a drink on his way home? (We know that when working on the organs at Boston’s Symphony Hall and First Church of Christ, Scientist, he was very fond of stopping for refreshment at the Café Amalfi next door to Symphony Hall.)
John Scott must be one of the wisest imports from Great Britain since E. Power Biggs. In the few years since he began his work at St. Thomas, he has carried on the great tradition of music so beautifully nourished by Gerre Hancock, bringing the famed Choir of Men and Boys to a new thrilling level of musicianship and dignity. Immaculately clad in scarlet and white with elaborate frilled collars, standing out from the muted tones of stone and wood, they add to the stunning visual effect of the surroundings.
The precision of their movements—processing, standing, sitting—adds dignity to the worship, but I noticed that it also removes the possibility of distraction. I was able to listen almost wholly to the music, without the back of my mind clattering about someone falling out of step, someone standing later than the rest. Because they were paying such close attention, I was able to as well.
The first sound I heard from the choir was the vigorous, sonorous, precise “and with thy spirit” coming from a distant corridor as they were led in prayer before entering the nave. Even so, the worshipper-listener could not be prepared for the inhalation of breath and utterance of the first few chords of perfectly balanced and expertly tuned tone as they sang the psalm after the opening words. I was sitting about a third of the way down the nave (pew 51 had a wad of chewing gum under the seat) on the epistle side (starboard), far enough back that the choir members, especially the very young boys, were dwarfed by the majestic height of the place, but their voices filled the building in a most moving way.
Great care had been given to the balance between organ and choir. We talk and talk about The English Cathedral Style—when you hear it done so well you can understand it better. The organ must have the ability to sound as if it’s going “all out” without overpowering the choir, and also be able to melt into the ether. This evening, while I heard the organ in its great fullness in hymn and postlude, I was so impressed by the sound of “full organ” including powerful chorus reeds and mixtures enhancing the sound of the choir.
Choral Evensong in a great church like this is a syzygy of genius and creativity. The vision of the architect and the skill of the builders make possible the magnificent building. The proportions, decorations, symbolism, and acoustics are all essential to the experience.
The genius of the composers provides us music that brings the building to life. These are musicians who knew these buildings, who made music in these buildings, and whose inspiration came from these buildings.
The organbuilders who were contemporary with the composers (tonight we think of Charles Villiers Stanford as heard by Ernest Skinner and Henry Willis) heard the music, knew the buildings, and invented and perfected machines that transcend machinery—machines that melt into magic under the hands of a master organist, machines that consume air as fuel and transform it into sound energy sufficient to excite tens of millions of cubic feet of air mingled with the scent of incense and beeswax.
The commitment, dedication, discipline, and devotion of the musicians interpret that music for our modern ears. Their voices burn the same fuel as the organ, turning static air into sound energy. Their tuning is precise, their phrasing lofty, their harmonies true.
And the present clergy and congregation in all their various roles as officers, committee members, evangelists, ushers, welcomers, and worshippers combine their talents, energy, and (just say it) financial resources to make the entire experience available to us in this world of Gucci and taxicabs.
These are a few of my favorite things.