Carillon News

Nunc Dimittis Herman Bergink, 1924-1997

Herman Bergink was born May 15, 1924 in Enschede, The Netherlands, where he became a church organist at the age of 13. He studied organ with Adriaan C. Schuurman, and later studied both piano and organ with Dick Van Wilgenbrug. He obtained his diploma in organ and choir training at the Utrecht Conservatory of Music, Church Music School. It was in his hometown that he was briefly introduced to the carillon.

In 1968, Herman became Provincial Carillonneur of the Netherlands Centennial Carillon, in Victoria, BC. Herman was instrumental in raising money to have the carillon built, having obtained donations from the Dutch Community of British Columbia. He held the post of Provincial Carillonneur  until his retirement in 1992, the same year in which he was knighted by the Queen of The Netherlands into the Order of Orange-Nassau. Upon his retirement from the Netherlands Centennial Carillon, he was named Carilllonneur Emeritus. Herman passed away on 6 November 1997 after a lengthy illness.

As for reminiscences, Herman and I go back to 1984, when I met him at a Royal Canadian College of Organists luncheon. He kept going on about the carillon, and I had no idea what he was talking about. After a while, I gave in and went to watch him play a Sunday recital, and after I got over the fear of heights, I knew that I had to learn to play the instrument. I studied with him for several years. Our relationship was stormy at times, and very loving at times. At one point he insisted that I either give up the organ, or give up the carillon. The organ was my first instrument; I have a bachelor’s degree in pipe organ. We somehow made it over that hurdle, and went on. Herman had the highest regard for Leen ‘t Hart. Anytime Herman was interviewed by the media, he would bring Leen ‘t Hart into the conversation. The biography of  Herman that is at the base of our tower not only mentions Leen ‘t Hart, but there is a picture of him there too.

Herman was a true family man. His music was so important, but his family came first. He adored his wife Maria. Herman was a fighter. He survived two heart surgeries, a stroke, and prostate cancer, all over a period of about 20 years. He finally succumbed to leukemia, but not without a long battle.

During WW II, as a young man, Herman went underground to Holland, to help Jews escape. He risked his life for his convictions. His strong convictions made him stand up at a Royal Canadian College of Organists annual general meeting, and resign as a member, openly stating that it was because electronic organs were being used for some recitals.

--Rosemary Laing

All who befriended Herman will certainly remember his abiding faith in the telephone. From his den in the family home in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, then latterly from the bathroom of his new smaller apartment, there he could be found in the early morning hours making telephone calls to all who lived east of him in later time zones. He didn’t want to disturb his dear wife, Maria, but delighted in the discount calling patterns of the very early morning. For him it was 6:30 am; for me it was 9:30 am.

In my recollection, and if my files can be believed, I received only one letter from Herman in nearly 30 years; it is handwritten and dated 21 December 1970. A rare treasure indeed! Ah, but he thought enough of his colleagues and friends to call each of us on the telephone four or five times a year out of his concern for our well-being and just to chat.

I first met Herman at the 1969 Yale Congress, one which I will never forget. President Rusterholz was unable to attend, and I--the Vice-President--was called upon to chair the meeting on rather short notice. Time and tide wait for no one! Especially if it is the person taking the annual photo. I was chasing about trying to locate son Gordon in one of the Yale buildings and arrived just after the photo session was completed. Herman thought enough of the incident to get together with Gordon and me plus eight other very well known stragglers, and take a special photo to allay  our collective concern and disappointment. Because he had to mail me a copy of his photo, his accompanying letter was the one to which I just referred. Not only did he send a small snapshot, but also a color enlargement to match the size of the usual Guild photo.

In 1957, Herman, with his wife and family, emigrated from Enschede, The Netherlands, and came to the far northern Ontario community of Cochrane (in its earlier growth years accessible only by rail). He worked selling insurance, and was probably involved in his other calling as a dedicated church musician.

When the new carillon, being presented to the province by a grateful Dutch community there, was installed at Victoria, British Columbia, Herman applied and was accepted as the first Provincial Carillonneur. The original carillon of 49 Petit & Fritsen bells, in a free-standing tower, was augmented later under his guidance when 13 more bells were placed in 1971. Moving into a very pleasant home there to take up his new duties, he also found a position as Organist and Choirmaster of Saint Paul’s Church. The back of his business card attests to his dedication to the carillon. “Recitals on the Netherlands Centennial Carillon throughout the year: Sundays at 3 pm. From July to September on Wednesdays at noon and Fridays at 6 pm. Extra recitals on public holidays and during Advent, Christmas, and the New Year seasons. There is an opportunity for the public to witness a recital being played. Please be at the  base of the tower 20 minutes before the scheduled recital time.”

As with most European musicians who migrate to the carillon, he brought the skills of improvisation with him for his studies with Leen ‘t Hart and others at the Netherlands Carillon School. He loved introducing the music of his native land into all his programs and did so with fervor and devotion.

He became an Associate member of the Guild around 1968, then Student member and Carillonneur member in 1971, playing his advancement recital at the Springfield, Illinois Congress. He promoted his art rather well, and accepted many invitations to perform as a guest recitalist at carillon festivals across North America.

Following the 1975 congress in California, my wife and I journeyed by car up the scenic Pacific coast and were able to visit with the Berginks in Victoria. Their hospitality was overwhelming and we cherish the memory of that visit. Herman had many flagpoles gracing the front yard of his home, and the place of honor was always reserved for a flag to represent a visitor’s country, province, or state. If your arrival to his home was planned in advance, you would be pleasantly surprised, on the approach, to hear bells being played in your honor. Above his front door, the front of the house was graced by a small set of cast bells which could be automatically or manually played to welcome you. The neighborhood, at appropriate times, was regaled with their music throughout the daylight hours.

Many of you will remember Herman’s congress visits and the souvenirs he handed out to all in the form of lapel pins or buttons. Some will recall the huge mysterious black leather briefcases he always carried (or lugged). It was his mobile office! Among other things in them, he always carried a heavy recording apparatus in order to tape the various recitalists. Once, I offered my assistance to transport one of these containers before testing its weight. I’m sure it weighed over 40 pounds! Goodness knows what the other weighed.

Herman had the salesman’s “gift of the gab” and could often be overheard at congresses talking to visitors within his range, answering their questions about bells and the Guild with professional ease and total interest in either subject.

In his later years, he suffered from various debilitating illnesses (no doubt brought on by the ravages of deprivation during World War II in his home country) but his cheery outlook was ever present and his bubbly conversations belied any problems whatsoever.

I’ll remember him as a fine musician and a dedicated carillonneur, as well as one who loved his family, friends, and colleagues and chose to share his talents, good will, and good humor with all.

Thank you Herman, from all of us.

--James B. Slater

Brian Swager is carillon editor of THE DIAPASON.

New world-standard console in Victoria, British Columbia
Rosemary Laing, carillonneur of the Netherlands Centennial Carillon in Victoria, British Columbia, sends news of the installation of a new playing console. The donor who underwrote the project wished for the most part to remain anonymous and chose August 1, 2007, for the dedication ceremony and inaugural recital in honor of his wife’s birthday. It came as a complete surprise to her, and she was moved to tears as the crowd belted out a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday” accompanied by the carillon. She had been told that she was attending just another museum function. It was Victoria’s best-kept secret.
Several dignitaries were on hand, along with invited guests, the family of Carillonneur Emeritus Herman Bergink, patrons of the Royal British Columbia Museum, and a handful of the original Dutch donors who had made the Netherlands Centennial Carillon a reality in the late sixties. The media was out in full force, and the carillon was featured in all types of coverage, from live CBC radio interviews, to an article in The Globe & Mail, a national newspaper. A lavish catered reception followed the outdoor ceremony and carillon recital on a lovely summer’s afternoon in Victoria, a gentle breeze blowing off the water, the scent of flowers in the air.
But for Rosemary Laing, the story began in the dead of winter, when she was awakened from a deep sleep in the middle of the night by a phone call from the Royal Eijsbouts Bellfoundry in Asten, the Netherlands. Victoria was in the midst of a rare snowstorm, and the city had been at a complete standstill for days. When the phone rang, she panicked, afraid that it might be heralding the early arrival of her first grandchild, during a blizzard. Fortunately, it wasn’t her grandchild, but rather, a birth of a different sort. The voice on the other end excitedly spoke about a new carillon console soon to be on its way, and in her shock and disbelief the next morning, she wondered if it had been a dream. In fact, it wasn’t until she actually saw the new console in the tower that she was convinced that it was real.
The Royal BC Museum had gone shopping for a new automatic playing system to replace the broken original roll-type player, and, thanks to the Royal Eijsbouts Bellfoundry, had come home with a lovely new baton playing console, which conforms to the newly developed world standard, as well as an automatic player controlled by a MIDI system utilizing the clappers inside the lower 48 bells. Rosemary finds that the new console is aesthetically appealing and a real pleasure to play. Victoria is indeed fortunate to have this new instrument. Many thanks to the donor for his wonderful generosity!
The Netherlands Centennial Carillon was a gift from British Columbia’s Dutch community to honor Canada’s 100th anniversary in 1967 and in recognition of Canada’s role in the liberation of the Netherlands during World War II. The tower stands 90 feet high, and the carillon is composed of 62 bells cast by the Petit & Fritsen Royal Bellfoundry in Aarle-Rixtel, the Netherlands. The original 49 bells were installed in 1968, and 13 bells were added in 1971. The tower is located on Victoria’s Inner Harbour, in front of the Royal BC Museum and Provincial Archives.

Send items for “Carillon News” to Dr. Brian Swager, c/o The Diapason, 3030 W. Salt Creek Lane, Suite 201, Arlington Heights, IL 60005-5025; <[email protected]>. For information on the Guild of Carillonneurs in North America: GCNA, 37 Noel Dr., Williamsville, NY 14221; <www.gcna.org&gt;.

Brian Swager is a contributing editor of The Diapason.

Nunc Dimittis

Ronald Barnes, 1927-1997

Ronald Montague Barnes was born and brought up in Lincoln, Nebraska. In 1931, at about age four, he believed that his parents took him to hear Anton Brees dedicate the Taylor carillon at First Plymouth Congregational Church. He recalled an evening along the streets in the neighborhood, with everyone's attention focused on a light high in the tower. Then, as a teenager, he began organ study with Myron Roberts, the church's organist, who one day asked Ron if he would consider learning to play the carillon as well, since Mary Guest, the woman then playing, planned to move away.

Ron ascended the tower to watch her play. She played only melodies, using only the bottom two octaves and grasping the keys chime-style. When he asked her why she did not also use the higher notes she replied that they didn't work, and, sure enough, when he tried one of the keys it would not move. A few days later he and his older brother Bryce made their way into the bell chamber for the first time (in those days a hazardous climb indeed), and he realized for the first time that each of those other notes actually had a bell attached to it.

The two young men carried twelve bushel baskets full of dead pigeons, droppings, and other dirt down the narrow stairway and out of the tower. To the best of their amateur skills, they cleaned and lubricated the playing action, disassembling some of it. On the Sunday after they finished, Ronald went up to play. He possessed no carillon music, so he simply played scales up and down the compass. Neighbors immediately began phoning, wanting to know when the church had gotten additional bells. So far as he could determine, nobody had played the small bells on that carillon since Anton Brees' dedicatory recitals more that a decade earlier!

At the end of World War II Barnes served in the US Navy in Japan during the occupation, on a destroyer tender as a specialist working with navigational instruments, and later as a helmsman on a destroyer. Afterwards he used the GI Bill to earn a Master of Arts degree in musicology at Stanford University, where for his thesis he wrote a study of the carillon preludes of Matthias van den Gheyn. He attended his first GCNA congress in 1948 at Ann Arbor, where he, Theophil Rusterholz, and Bertram Strickland played their advancement recitals.

Following the congress he spent the summer in Ottawa with Robert Donnell, which proved to be his only formal study of the carillon. He returned to Lincoln, from whence he reported in the May 1950 edition of the Bulletin that the audiences for his summer Sunday evening recitals had grown large enough to interest the operators of ice cream wagons, complete with the little bells on the truck roofs.

In 1951 he accepted an appointment at the large new Taylor carillon in Lawrence, Kansas, which he said was the finest in the world at the time. While on the University of Kansas faculty he also taught harpsichord and music history, and cared for the university's instrument collection. In 1963 he again accepted an appointment to play a brand new Taylor carillon, which he again thought the best carillon in the world, this time at the Washington Cathedral.

During the Lawrence and Washington years he wrote a good number of arrangements and several new compositions, but the flow of works from his pen grew to an impressive scale only in the late 1970s. Cathedral politics had proved destructively stressful, but the 1975 decision to abolish his position in response to a financial emergency perversely freed him to regain the measure of personal stability that could release his creative powers. In 1982 he returned to California to preside over the Class of 1928 Carillon at the University of California at Berkeley, from which he retired in 1995 after thirteen highly productive years.

The GCNA held congresses at each of his three towers, beginning in Kansas in 1956. He served as President of the Guild during part of the 1960s, and for seven years during the 1950s as editor of the Bulletin. He gave his last performance for the Guild on his first carillon, in Lincoln, at the 1993 congress. He attended his last congress, only five months before his death, at his beloved instrument in Lawrence.

I had met Ronald several times before I moved to Berkeley in 1983. When I decided to accept a place in the entering law school class, I contacted him to ask if he needed an assistant. It turned out that one of his assistants had just resigned, and he welcomed me. He became a close personal friend, as I struggled with the tensions of law school and later of law practice, providing support (and wit) of immeasurable value. He became a trusted musical confidante. Although second-rate playing and literature both annoyed him greatly, he rarely offered a performer criticism of a recital, even to the players on his personal staff, unless the performer specifically asked for it. Then, when asked, his insights into both the performance and the music continually reminded us that he possessed knowledge of things unknown to the rest of us. The teacher under whom I had taken brief formal study had given me good technical grounding that Ronald claimed not to have himself, but in our unstructured years together as performers he showed me far more than anyone else ever had about our instrument and its unique personality.

His personal encouragement gave us several of the most important composers to write for the carillon in our time, among them Roy Hamlin Johnson, John Pozdro, and Gary White. He played pivotal roles in starting and nurturing the carillon careers of some of our most distinguished players as well, including Milford Myhre, Richard Strauss, and Daniel Robbins. He wrote provocatively and with penetrating insight several times for the Bulletin, encouraging us to set new standards for quality of performance, choice of repertory, and sophistication in the design and construction of instruments. But there is no doubt in my mind that the contribution that overshadows all others was his own contribution to our instrument's musical literature.

His failing eyesight brought his performing to an end in 1994 and later interrupted his composing at a moment when he had several interesting works in draft, and doubtless many more yet unconceived. But he retained his keen ear and mind into retirement. He followed the course of the search for his successor closely, expressing great relief when he saw his Berkeley instrument pass into talented young hands.

By late spring 1997 he did not feel well. After he learned in late summer that he had leukemia, the first thing he said to me was that he hoped he could hang on long enough to attend the International Festival at Lake Wales in February, but neither he nor the festival were granted the honor. At about dawn on 3 November 1997, Ron Barnes departed his ravaged flesh to move on to the next life. He left behind a community of musicians on whose most fundamental notions of their instrument he had left his deep imprint.

--David Hunsberger

Remembering a good friend

My first experience in playing the carillon was at Central Christian Church in San Antonio, Texas, in 1958. That same year I discovered Ronald Barnes at The University of Kansas at Lawrence, so I knew Ron for about 40 years. At that time South Texas was on the edge of the carillon world, and I was desperate for help and guidance. Ron gave me carillon lessons and advice by mail.

When we first met in person during the summer of 1962 in Kansas, I was on my way to Ann Arbor to play my advancement recital and I wanted to play the program for someone. I remember very well missing every pedal on his Kansas instrument, since I was used to my carillon's Dutch standard, and this was the first carillon I had ever played that didn't have those tall black pedal keys. Ron was very understanding and encouraging to a beginner and almost a total stranger. At that time he allowed me to take home to copy whatever I wanted from his library. This was before the days of photocopying, and music had to be copied by hand. This took several months, but I finally mailed his music back to him. Ron had always been extremely generous both with his time and his music library.

My first GCNA congress was at Ann Arbor in 1962. I remember being very impressed with Ron, because he had transposed his recital for that carillon so that it would sound in the same keys in which the pieces were written. This was the congress that Percival Price had the University Choir up in the tower along with a bagpiper, and people were hitting long boards that were suspended in the tower. This congress also included the famous playing of The Bells of Hell with car horn ad lib. Ron wrote to me on 26 June 1962 concerning that congress: "I hope that you enjoyed the Congress and got something out of it. They are usually hectic, disorganized, and crazy, but also fun and frequently informative and instructive."

Ron loved to laugh. Not only was he humorous in his conversation, he reveled in telling funny stories, jokes, and actual anecdotes. We all know of Ron's fondness for organ recitals. He once wrote about a friend who was to play an organ recital at the National Shrine: "However, I don't know if I will hear him play or not. I've already heard an organ recital."

Before his carillon recital in San Antonio at Christmas 1979 he wrote in a letter: "The little 'Fanfare' you requested has turned out to be an 'Introit' instead, since I don't know how to write music that sounds like 'hay and the manger' as you requested." He had a marvelous way with words, command of language, extensive vocabulary, and an amazing quick wit.

During his playing of Serenade for Carillon at the 1978 Congress at Christ Church Cranbrook, I was aware for the first time that I was not listening to just a carillon recital, but I was listening to music that happened to be played on the carillon. Ron was one of the few people who could do this. He was a wonderful musician whose instrument of choice was the carillon.

Over the years, Ron, Tom and I took many trips to Mexico during Christmas breaks. In typical Ron fashion, he researched Mexico and knew the mountains, architecture, art, literature, history, and culture better than Tom and I did, and we live only 150 miles from the border. In reading one guide book Ron came upon a delightful saying that has entered into our language: "Wherever you go, there you are."

Over the years, Ron became one of our best friends, even though we never even lived in the same city. He was a most remarkable person. Many thanks to the carillon for bringing us together.

--George Gregory

Ronald Barnes was a true Renaissance type of person. He had expertise in so many different categories: performer, composer, teacher, graphic artist, humorist, and even philosopher. He could converse intelligently on almost any subject and could inspire others to attain levels of achievement far beyond anything they could imagine. His interest in the history of the instrument, coupled with his excellent memory for detail, gave him an enviable breadth of knowledge.

With his passing the carillon world has lost one of its greatest advocates. His interest in this strange and wonderful instrument was unlimited. It embraced all facets of playing technique, composition, bell founding, playing mechanism, tower design, and recording techniques. Nothing escaped his scrutiny, much to the delight of all who enjoyed his searing wit. His loyal friendship and generosity were models for us all. May we now honor his memory by emulating his best qualities and playing his music with great devotion and scrupulous care.

--Milford Myhre

With the passage of Ronald Barnes, the carillon world has lost a primary mover in the artistic evolution of what he often called "the world's largest recital instrument." Through his performing and composing, he asserted the value of his chosen medium as being at least equal to that of the traditional keyboard instruments in their capacity to convey expressions of the human spirit. Further, by discarding the cliches and shop-worn technical devices of Post-Romantic carillon academies, and by basing his style on his instrument's unique physical properties, he produced and encouraged fresh solutions to universal musical problems of sonority, tonality, and structure.

He helped many composers, including me, to find their "carillon voices." It is safe to say that the notes for carillon penned by these persons would not have found their way to paper, had it not been for his profound insights, continuous enthusiasm, and merciless wit.

--Roy Hamlin Johnson

Marilyn Mason celebrates her 80th birthday on June 29. She was born in Alva, Oklahoma, on June 29, 1925. Dr. Mason is University Organist, Professor of Music, and Chairman of the Organ Department at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. Her affiliation with Michigan began in 1944 as a pupil of Palmer Christian, and she later completed the MMus degree at Michigan. She spent time in France, where she studied under Nadia Boulanger (analysis) and Maurice Durufl? (organ), and in 1954 she earned the Doctor of Sacred Music degree at Union Theological Seminary in New York.
As an undergraduate, she was awarded the Stanley Medal, the highest award given to any music major. Later, in her teaching career, her colleagues presented her with the Distinguished Faculty Award, and music alumni awarded her the first Citation of Merit. During her time at Michigan, annual summer and fall Conferences on Organ Music have become regular highlights. She has led more than 50 historic organ tours abroad, and the Marilyn Mason Organ was created in a specifically designed recital hall in the School of Music. The organ, built by C. B. Fisk, is a replica in the spirit of the instruments of Gottfried Silbermann.Marilyn Mason has made a lasting impact in her distinguished career as concert organist, teacher, lecturer, adjudicator, consultant, recording artist, and by the nearly 75 organ works she has commissioned. Dr. Mason has performed on every continent, save Antarctica. She was the first American woman to play in Westminster Abbey, the first woman organist to play in Latin America, and the first American to play in Egypt. She has served as judge at nearly every major organ competition in the world. Her dedication to contemporary organ music is evidenced by the names of prominent composers who have written for her: Albright, Bolcom, Cook, Cowell, Creston, Diemer, Haines, Jackson, Johnson, Jordan, Krenek, Langlais, Lockwood, Near, Persichetti, Sowerby, Wyton, Young, and others. In 1987, Dr. Mason was awarded the degree Doctor of Music honoris causa from the University of Nebraska. In 1988 she was chosen as Performer of the Year by the New York City chapter of the American Guild of Organists.We join the contributors below in wishing Dr. Mason a most happy birthday.
?Jerome Butera

The gift of friendship

The time: July or August, 1957; the occasion: TheInternational Congress of Organists; the place: Westminster Abbey, London.

The Royal College of Organists hosted a meeting of organistsfrom around the world, with soloists from the American Guild of Organists, theRoyal Canadian College of Organists and the RCO. Many distinguished playerswere heard, and the recital by Marilyn Mason was greatly anticipated. Theprogram included Leo Sowerby?s Classic Concerto for organ and orchestra conducted by the composer.The stylish and polished performance by Dr. Mason, exemplary in every way, wasa highlight, her playing all the more telling as the abbey organ at that timehad only one general piston.

Later in the week at a garden party on the abbey grounds,heavy rain sent delegates running for shelter, and it was in the safety of thecloisters that I first spoke with Dr. Mason--and I was immediately awareof her warmth and interest towards a recently graduated organ student.

I had no thought of leaving England, but in the followingyear I accepted a church appointment in Canada. In 1959 Dr. Mason played aprogram at Metropolitan United Church, London, Ontario, which included theRoger-Ducasse Pastorale, a piece she hadmade her own, and the much underplayed Suite of Paul Creston that she had commissioned.Afterwards, in the line of listeners to say ?thank you,? Dr. Masonsaid, ?I remember you, where?? ?Running from the rain atWestminster Abbey.?

The University Organ Conference became a yearly fixture forme following the first in 1962 with Anton Heiller as the featured player. Whocould forget his lecture-recital on Orgelbüchlein?  Overthe years many European and North American organists made great contributionswith their lectures, demonstrations and performances.

Having played hundreds of recitals throughout the world,taught and encouraged hundreds of pupils in almost 60 years at the Universityof Michigan, Marilyn?s ability for friendship is one thing that sets herapart. Her legendary technique, her ability to get to the core of the music, isalmost superseded by her rare gift of friendship.

The 50 U-M trips to historic organs of Europe, eye and earopeners, are arranged so that members can hear the 18th-century north Germanorgan builders, those of the south, or the wonders of France from the Clicquotsto the Cavaillé-Colls. Doors are opened, organs made available, becauseof Dr. Mason?s reputation and her extensive network of players in theorgan world.

As a former student I say thank you, Marilyn, for yourinspiring teaching, the many walks through the ?Arb? (AnnArbor?s Arboretum) to the School of Music, the innumerable meals andconversations, your delightful sense of humor, your love of poetry and analmost  lifelong friendship.

Many are in awe of Dr. Mason?s musicianship,championing and commissioning of music for our instrument. I appreciate hercare and concern for all people she meets.

--Gordon Atkinson

At the time he left England, Gordon Atkinson was organist atSt. John the Baptist Church, Holland Road, Kensington, London, where among hispredecessors were Healey Willan and William Harris. A former president of theRCCO, Dr. Atkinson now lives in Melbourne, Australia.

Gospel Preludes

This past century has seen an enormous growth in challengingnew organ music, and one of the most influential virtuosi and proponents of neworgan music is Marilyn Mason. She has encouraged so much new music from so manycomposers, and I especially thank her for her extensive performances andinsightful teaching of my own music. She has commissioned several of my mostimportant organ works and has always championed them, and this is precious to acomposer--maybe the work will have a life! But no work has a life withoutthe right performance, and her doing the right performance for me and so manyothers, long dead and still living, is what makes Marilyn Mason so extremelyspecial.

--William Bolcom

Ross Lee Finney Distinguished University Professor of Music,The University of Michigan

A student for life

Once you have studied with Marilyn Mason, you study with herfor life. Yes, you may graduate, but you are never far from her constantguidance and care. During my years with her, I found that in one breath shecould correct my articulation and registration and also inquire if my checkbookwas balanced. Never overly critical, she could find ways to correct andencourage at the same time. And her analogies were priceless. Once afterplaying a particular piece, she thought for a moment and said to me,?hearing you play that piece like that reminds me of someone trying toeat peas with a knife.? Dr. Mason is a tireless teacher dedicated to theentire well-being of her students. As other students can attest, she insistedthat each of us have a church position. For her, a learning experience is notsufficient without a practical application. And you earn money. How convenient!

Dr. Mason also insisted that all of her students be able tocook. Although I never mastered the art, Saturday mornings were dedicated tobread baking in her Ann Arbor home, and her famous baguettes accompanied nearlyevery meal. Her equally famous ?green punch? was a fixture atnearly every reception or party! While not always green, the punch was seldomwithout its admirers.

Traveling remains an important part of Dr. Mason?slife. Her organ tours, numbering over fifty at this point, have exposed many tothe famous organs of the world. On each tour, a mix of music aficionados andstudents embark upon a life-changing experience. Through her generosity, manystudents are able to receive scholarships to help them defray the cost of thesetours, a benefit not lost on many. As a student, I traveled on five tours. Itis one thing to read about the organs of Spain, France, and Italy and be toldwhat they sound like. But to actually play and spend time on the instruments isquite another matter. As any tour member can tell you, Dr. Mason knows thatwherever you travel in the world, the most important person is the man with thekey! Once while in Rome, I found myself on the bench at St. Peter?s.Being told by the organist that we had only a little time, each of us rotatedon and off the bench while Dr. Mason kept the keeper of the key distracted.Playing last, I was quite prepared to finish my pieces and leave. Turning to mefrom a distance away, she told me to play ?longer and slower . . . theycan?t kick us off the bench while the music is going.?

As many of us have experienced over the years, I have foundProf. Mason to be a completely approachable and unselfish person. In constantcommunication with students and colleagues, whether through her famoustypewriter or e-mail, any problem musically or otherwise is given thoughtfulconsideration. As a ?second? mother and extension of my family, sheoften invited us into her home for holidays and special events. During times ofillness and strife, her home or studio was often filled with moments of prayeror words of encouragement. 

As Prof. Mason approaches this milestone in her life andcareer, I see no sign that she is slowing down. Indeed, following her for a daywill leave you intellectually challenged and mentally and physically exhausted.I could go on and on recounting our times together, but instead I will simplyclose with her most famous quote. ?Remember students, your performanceisn?t over until you are in the parking lot.? Dr. Mason, pleaseremember that as well, and God bless you for another eighty years.

--Phillip Burgess

Phillip Burgess holds MM and DMA degrees from the Universityof Michigan, and is currently organist/choirmaster of St. Luke?sEpiscopal Church in Salisbury, North Carolina.

Marilyn?s maxims

One is not around Marilyn Mason for long before it becomesapparent that one is in the presence of a walking ?Poor Richard?sAlmanac.? Just as Ben Franklin filled the minds and hearts of colonialAmericans with short pithy phrases that helped them cope with the practicalrealities of life on the frontier, Marilyn has helped several generations oforgan students navigate the treacheries of left hand and pedal, church musiccommittees, and the beginnings of musical careers with similar phrases for boththe particular and the universal.

When our concentration flagged during a long fugue we werereminded that, ?The performance is not over until you are in the parkinglot.? When we were pondering career options and had not put forth theeffort of sending out that additional résumé we heard, ?Youcan?t accept a position you haven?t applied for.? In themiddle of a long project, or when our devotion to duty wavered, Nadia Boulangerwas quoted: ?You must do your little bit each day.? Marilyn tellswith relish the story of an admirer who gushed in a receiving line after one ofher recitals, ?You are so lucky to play so well.? Her reply was,?Yes, the more I practice, the luckier I get!? 

Some of the sayings have universal application.?Timing is everything? works for the shaping of sonata allegro form, knowing when to make thatrecommendation call to the chairperson of a search committee, or when it istime for a joke during a tedious meeting.

Then there is the short ejaculation,  ?How convenient!? Thisphrase was quickly adopted after it was uttered by an organist demonstratinghow to change stops on a Rückpositiv where the knobs were located on thecase behind the organ bench. The organist twisted herself into a pretzel andexclaimed ?See how convenient these are.? The irony and humor werenot lost, and this two-word phrase now highlights most any situation, just asan ?Amen? can be used after a prayer of thanksgiving, supplication,or devotion.

Well, Marilyn, timing may be everything, but somehow timejust doesn?t seem to apply to you. For one thing,  time stands still when we are aroundyou. Your constant activity, love of life,  infectious enthusiasm and devotion to the world of music ingeneral and the pipe organ in particular keep us entranced. Fifteen years aftermost people retire you have just produced another recording, premiered a newwork in New York and Paris, and are preparing for another historic organ tour.This is all in addition to your normal duties as professor of organ andchairman of the department. Just as Ben urged his fellow citizens to create agreat country by improving themselves, we are reminded to do the same by yourexample, your devotion,  your loveand care for us, and all of those maxims. HOW CONVENIENT!!!

--James Hammann

James Hammann teaches organ and theory at the University ofNew Orleans. He is director of music for The Chapel of the Holy Comforter, andruns his own maintenance business for pipe organs in the New Orleans area. Heearned the DMA in organ and church music from The University of Michigan in1987, where Marilyn Mason was his primary teacher.

A lady of firsts

The first American woman to play organ in Westminster Abbey(900th anniversary of the abbey).

The first woman to play organ concerts on five continents inone year.

Her reputation for innovation, learning, and sharing throughteaching traverses the world. She refreshes the art of organ playing throughthese excellent traits. As an example to her students she is alwaysregenerating herself with new ideas and new ways to learn.

I have been privileged to study with Marilyn Mason throughtwo advanced degrees during a particularly creative and innovative time in thehistory of American organ-playing: the so-called Early Music Revival. (Severalyears earlier, I had made her acquaintance during the founding of the Ann ArborAGO chapter.) During this time of revival, Marilyn organized the University ofMichigan Summer Keyboard Institute (now celebrating its 25th year), whichfeatured the venerable Peter Williams--author, performer, and innovativethinker. Due to his great mind among us, we always left the Institute with morequestions than answers! Also at this time, Dr. Mason won for herself auniversity grant to study organ-building in Europe. Thus, Professor JamesKibbie and I, as graduate students, were privileged to be her researchassistants visiting organbuilding shops and major instruments of more than adozen builders in Germany, France, Switzerland, the Netherlands, and Denmark.During these travels we personally witnessed her seemingly limitless capacityfor learning and refreshing her thinking. This single event was the start ofthe famous Historic Organ Tours, the 50th of which she recently completed. Whata way to learn about historic organ performance practice. The instruments arethe great teachers!

Impressive accomplishments for Dr. Mason, but let?slook some decades earlier. Marilyn Mason had played many of these instrumentsin the early years after World War II. She knew the importance of studyingoriginal instruments and European musical thinking. Thus the annual U-MConference on Organ Music was born in 1960 and has flourished ever since. Theconference has always featured European artists who  performed and spoke about the music of their particularcountry. Along with these visiting artists came Lowell Riley, an American whohad spent years photographing European organs and who brought to us dazzlingslide shows of great masterpieces of organbuilding.

MARILYN MASON: fresh-thinking, Energizer-Bunny energetic,humor-filled, highly spiritual, and totally committed to teaching students ofall ages.

Innovations

* performing the Alain Trois Dances with a troupe of U-M dance majors

* performing the Dupré Chemin de la Croix with narration of the famous poem by Paul Claudel andaccompanied by a PowerPoint presentation of great works of art depicting theStations of the Cross

* performing the complete organ works of J. S. Bachthree times in 1985 accompanied by slides of the actual music being played.

Quotes

?I always love a meal that someone else hascooked!?

?Your recital isn?t over until you are in theparking lot.?

?I was once introduced as Marilyn Monroe.?

?See if you can get somewhere near the rightnotes.?

?When you study with Dr. Mason you have to learn tochop veggies.?

Seen and heard

Baking French bread, stacking it in the basket on herbicycle and riding around to give fresh bread to neighbor friends.

Attending Bible study sessions in the neighborhood.

Talking her way through customs after visiting France,trying to explain that those plastic bags in her suitcase were not marijuanabut herbes de Provence.

Her famous ?Joke Book? which was stolen atRiverside Church one day.

My all time personal favorite

Professor Kibbie and I were tape recording in a Europeanchurch and asked Marilyn to run the tape recorder. She was confused: turn thetape over and then rewind or the other way around? Things didn?t work outcorrectly and we lost some of our research. I tried to cheer her up, saying:?Dr. Mason, you were a Phi Beta Kappa, remember?? She apologizedquietly and said, ?It was a low moment. They were taking everyone!?

--Michele Johns

Dr. Michele Johns is adjunct Associate Professor of Music,the University of Michigan School of Music.

The same as ever

Recently, the University of Michigan?s cable TVchannel rebroadcast an interview with Marilyn Mason first televised in 1977.The interviewer?s long hair, wide collar and bell-bottomed trousers aredated, but Marilyn looks remarkably as she does today. She demonstrates theorgans in her studio and Hill Auditorium with masterworks of the repertoireplayed from memory and talks of her love for the instrument and its repertoire,including the new music she has commissioned.

People around the country often ask, ?How is MarilynMason?? The answer is, ?The same as ever,? as that oldvideotape demonstrates. After more than 50 years on the faculty of theUniversity of Michigan, she is still as active and engaged as ever, performing,teaching, leading organ tours, confidently spinning off new ideas, championingour students, and promoting her vision for our profession.

Birthdays can sometimes be an occasion to reminisce, butMarilyn herself doesn?t often engage in that sort of retrospection.She?s far too busy making new plans and promoting new projects. So forMarilyn?s many friends and former students, perhaps I can suggest someother appropriate ways to observe her birthday:

* Attend one of her concerts (easy to do, since sheplays almost everywhere)

* Buy another of her recordings (a new one has justbeen released)

* Play for one of her masterclasses

* Go on a U of M Historic Organ Tour

* Perform a new work for organ, or better yet,commission one

* Attend the U of M Organ Conference or SummerInstitute

* Make a donation to the Marilyn Mason ScholarshipFund at the University of Michigan

* Tell a joke

* Raise a glass.

Like many other former students of Marilyn Mason, I claimher as one of the most important people in my life. I look forward to many moreyears to enjoy her as mentor, colleague and loyal friend.

--James Kibbie

Professor of Organ

The University of Michigan School of Music

Joie de vivre

On the occasion of her 80th birthday,  all best wishes  to an energetic, enthusiastic andremarkable lady and teacher!

When I came to Ann Arbor 37 years ago to study organ,Marilyn?s sons were small enough to crawl behind the sofa when studentscame to her house. Now my grandson is crawling behind the furniture and Marilynis still entertaining students. The years have passed but her vitality andwonderful energy remain. Her jokes have changed but her joie de vivre has not.Longevity alone, if that were all there was to it, has allowed her to affectthe musical careers of hundreds of students, from the United States toSingapore!

But there is more to her endurance than longevity. Her ownprofessional development has never stopped. Marilyn has always kept up with thetimes. Her teaching reflects the traditions of Palmer Christian and JeanLanglais, but it has followed as well the trends of Bach playing through thedetaché 1980s and it has included the revived understanding of classicFrench organ style that made alternatim and Grands Jeux household words amongher students.

Presentation is everything, she has said, in music and infood. What she taught us about stage presence she modeled for us inface-to-face presence. A very few enthusiastic words in a foreign languagecoupled with her smile have opened doors of understanding with guests both hereand abroad.

Good health and a healthy appetite go hand in hand with herlove of life. For years the teacher who explained the grand manner of theFrench tradition rode to work on her bicycle. Travelers on her University ofMichigan historical organ tours will remember her legendary ability to catch ashort nap on the back seat of the bus and to rise refreshed and ready to climbto the next organ loft. The anticipation of the sound of a Cavaillé-Collorgan is always matched by the joy of savoring a great wine and a cassoulet deProvence.

Let?s see--endearing, entertaining, energetic,enthusiastic, enduring--I shouldn?t forget e-mail. Possibly herfavorite mode of communication enables her to stay in touch with students oftoday and yesterday and with traveling companions from more than 25 years ofEuropean tours. I?ll be sending a birthday greeting to her e-mail addressand I know it will be answered promptly and with  enthusiasm!

--Gale Kramer

Metropolitan Methodist Church, Detroit

New recording

For several decades, Marilyn Mason has enjoyed a singularlydistinguished and influential career as a recitalist and teacher, which hastaken her to major venues throughout the world. No other organist has been asactive as Dr. Mason in commissioning and promoting new music.

Her latest CD, Paul Freeman Introduces Marilyn Mason, consists of three 20th-century organ concertos andthe  William Bolcom?s GospelPreludes, Book Four. Assisting Dr. Mason isthe first-rate Czech National Symphony Orchestra under the able leadership ofthe American conductor Paul Freeman.

The three concertos were recently recorded in Prague?sDvorák Hall in the Rudolfinum on the 1975 Ceskoslovenske hudebninastroje organ, the first four-manual organ in the Czech Republic built withmechanical key action. The concertos include Emma Lou Diemer?s Concertoin One Movement for Organ and Chamber Orchestra (?Alaska?), which was premiered in 1996 at the Universityof Alaska with the composer as soloist. For this reviewer, the main interestlies primarily in the rhythmic vitality and divergent musical references toEskimo, Hassler and Hebrew themes.

Leo Sowerby?s Classic Concerto for Organ andStrings (1949) was played at the 1957International Congress of Organists in London at Westminster Abbey with Dr.Sowerby conducting and Dr. Mason at the Harrison & Harrison 1937instrument. (Mason, along with David Craighead and the late Robert Baker,represented the United States at the congress.) In this sprightlythree-movement work, Sowerby brings the classic form of the concertoharmonically into the 20th century, and certainly with it, romantic overtones.After a half-century it still wears well.

One of the Czech Republic?s leading composers, PetrEben, is represented by the 1982 Organ Concerto No. 2, a work in two sections. Technical demands are madeon the performer to successfully bring off this work; Dr. Mason does it withher usual aplomb.

The Bolcom Three Gospel Preludes are played on New York City?s RiversideChurch?s justifiably acclaimed 216-rank Aeolian-Skinner-Adams-Bufanoinstrument. The three preludes are based on the hymn tunes ?Sometimes IFeel Like a Motherless Child,? ?Sweet Hour of Prayer,? and?O Zion Haste? and ?How Firm a Foundation.? Theseskillfully crafted works, which are performed with great sensitivity by Mason,were recorded in 2003 and produced by Michael Barone for Minnesota PublicRadio?s Pipedreamsbroadcasts.

The CD is available for $15.98 (plus shipping) from theOrgan Historical Society; 804/353-9226;

<www.ohscatalog.org&gt;.

--Robert M. Speed

Robert M. Speed is Professor of the Humanities Emeritus,Grand View College, Des Moines, Iowa.

A tribute to a beloved icon on her 80th birthday

?Set dates come.? This was one of the manywatchwords for life that I learned from my mentor, Dr. Marilyn Mason, all thoseyears ago. On June 29 another wonderful ?set date? willarrive--her 80th birthday, and what a joyous occasion for exuberantcelebration! Of course, those of us who know and love Marilyn are keenly awarethat this legendary lady is totally and completely ageless--that at eightyshe possesses more energy and wit and mental acuity than most forty-somethingscould ever dream of having. Her incredibly successful career continues at fullthrottle. Students from around the world still flock to her door, and they arerewarded with unsurpassed educational, musical and personal experiences thatwill sustain and empower them throughout their careers and lives. Attending oneof her performances or master classes, traveling on her fabulous historic organtours or just spending an hour visiting with Marilyn Mason today is still asinspiring and energizing today as forty years ago. 

Wonderful memories engulf me as I anticipate this special?set date.? A host of Marilyn Mason axioms resurface: ?setdates come; it?s those thin pieces that are hardest; the performanceisn?t over until you?re in the parking lot; the most importantthing is how well you know the music; miss one day of practice and you cantell, two days and your friends can tell, miss three and your entire audiencecan tell; never pass up a chance to visit a restroom,? and countlessothers.

I remember prayers just before going onstage, rolls ofpeppermint Lifesavers backstage at intermission to provide an energy boost forthe second half, and her omnipresent encouragement and support. I rememberstudio classes when, if we urged persistently and strongly enough, Marilynwould sit down and whip off flawless performances of the Alain Dances, theSchoenberg Variations and the Bach D-Major, all at one sitting, by memory, withtotal ease. I remember the historic organ tours, the group recitals in Europe,the joy of being students under Marilyn?s wing again. I remember howMarilyn invited my husband and me to her home for prayers and shared tears overbreakfast when we learned that our dear friend and colleague, Carol Teti, wasdying. I remember the warm hospitality of delicious meals and cozy eveningsspent in Marilyn?s home . . . and always I remember the laughter--thenever-ending supply of wonderful jokes and hilarious true stories she hascollected during a lifetime of optimism and joyous adventure. New generationsof student scholars continue to reap this bounty every year.    

I am Marilyn Mason?s student, and I will always be herstudent; anyone who is privileged to work under Marilyn?s tutelageremains her student for life. Marilyn Mason?s musicianship isunparalleled, her scholarship and intellect are impeccable, and the breadth anddepth of her experiences are endless. However, even more priceless than allthese gifts combined is the example that she sets in every aspect of herprofessional and personal life. Every day of Marilyn?s life is aninspirational example of all that she teaches. She works harder and more energeticallythan most of her students can possibly manage; she demands even more of herselfmusically and personally than the high standards she sets for her students; sheinspires her students to do even better than their best, because she alwaysdoes her best. Marilyn is deeply religious, but instead of preaching, shedemonstrates her faith through her example of flawless ethics and morality, herselfless dedication to service and her genuine respect, tolerance and affectionfor all whose lives she touches. These long years later--after all themusical knowledge and skill, all the professional opportunities, all theteaching methods, performance techniques and tricks-of-the-trade that haveserved me so well throughout my teaching and performing career--it?sthe example that Marilyn sets that has been her greatest gift of all to me. Iam humbled and deeply grateful for the privilege of having studied with MarilynMason, for having my own students go on to earn doctoral degrees with her, andespecially for the honor of calling her my friend.

Happy 80th birthday, Marilyn! Please continue sharing yourimmeasurable gifts and boundless energy with students at The University ofMichigan and with your loyal admirers throughout the world for manyyears--through many ?set dates? to come. I hope I receive thespecial honor of being asked to write a message to you again on your 90th.

--Mary Ida Yost

Mary Ida Yost is Professor Emerita of Music at EasternMichigan University. She received the Master of Music degree at The University ofMichigan in 1964 and the Doctor of Musical Arts degree in 1970, both as astudent of Marilyn Mason.

&R?

Ralph Kneeream served as assistant organist and choirmaster at St. Paul’s Chapel for eight years, from 1958 until 1966.

M. Searle Wright died on June 3 at the age of 86. See the “Nunc Dimittis” column on page 8 of the August 2004 issue of The Diapason.

The New York Years

“Let us now praise famous men . . . those who composed musical tunes . . .”

Searle Wright’s days on earth began in Susquehanna, Pennsylvania on April 4, 1918. His family moved to Binghamton, New York while Searle was quite young, and he always considered Binghamton his “hometown.” From his father Clarence he inherited the traditional, quiet, and introspective aspects of his personality. From his mother Josephine he gained not only a name--she was a Searle whose father served in Congress during the McKinley Administration--but also a great sense of humor, an entertaining and insightful manner of talking, and especially a joie de vivre. Searle was an only child and both parents lovingly sought to give him the very best education, certainly in the field of music.

From an early age Searle, along with his parents, began an association with “Phoebe Snow,” the famous Erie-Lackawanna “choo-choo” train. At first the trips were to Buffalo--the city that gave birth to the “mighty Wurlitzer” and to the Schlicker Organ Company--to study with the city’s leading organist, William Gomph. Mr. Gomph was well-known for his abilities, as well as for his “role” in the McKinley assassination which took place in The Temple of Music at the Pan-American Exposition: Mr. Gomph “. . . had reached the highest notes on the great organ, and as he stopped at the height to let the strains reverberate in the auditorium, two shots rang out.” Years later “Phoebe” would carry Searle from Binghamton to Hoboken, with a ferryboat link to Manhattan, for lessons with T. Tertius Noble, the famous organist and choirmaster of New York’s prestigious St. Thomas Church. Then, after Searle became a New Yorker, about 1938, there were many trips on “Phoebe Snow,” returning frequently to Binghamton to conduct the Binghamton Choral Society and to visit his parents and his friends.

Soon after arriving in Manhattan he took some classes at Columbia University, an institution he would serve so well for two decades. He studied improvisation with Frederick Schleider at the School of Sacred Music, Union Theological Seminary, another institution he would join as a faculty member. Another individual who had a profound influence on him in these early New York years was David McK. Williams, the colorful organist and choirmaster of St. Bartholomew’s Church. I could not possibly remember all the interesting stories Searle told me of this man--some relating to his use of striking effects in service playing, others relating to his well-known wit in dealing with events and with people.

In addition to becoming immersed in the New York church music scene, he earned the AAGO certificate in 1939 and the FAGO certificate in 1941, and at the time, I believe, he was the youngest recipient of the latter. So we might say that as Searle moved into his early twenties, he was one of the most promising young New York church musicians.

At an early age, while still living at home in Binghamton, he discovered the theatre organ. It was love at first sight. In his teens he earned pocket money playing the “mighty Wurlitzer” at Binghamton’s Capitol Theatre just as he would do again, years later in semi-retirement, playing half-hour programs prior to Binghamton Pops concerts. Many Friday evenings, Searle, Louise (see below), and other friends and I would have dinner together, sometimes at Schrafft’s on Broadway at 43rd Street (“Mother Schrafft’s” to Searle), or at Longchamps on Madison Avenue at 59th Street. What wonderful evenings they were, much talk of music, the Broadway theatre, the New York scene, and yes, even “shop.” Why were the sopranos having so much trouble with this or that phrase, where can we find a few more tenors, etc.? There was always much laughter, as the most recent jokes would circulate throughout the evening. A well-made cocktail and/or a glass of wine always helped to liven things up. But, the pièce de résistance, on a few occasions, following dessert and much coffee, was a short taxi ride to Radio City Music Hall where we were admitted to one of the rehearsal studios high above the main auditorium. It was there that Searle, or perhaps another theatre organist friend, would “wow” the rest of us with the very best in theatre organ performance. What a treat! Unforgettable!

Armed with his Fellowship certificate, with great talent, and solid training in choral directing, organ playing, improvisation, and composing, he set about establishing himself. His first positions were a small parish in the Bronx and then one in Queens. In 1944 he was appointed organist and choirmaster at the Chapel of the Incarnation (the present Church of the Good Shepherd) on East 31st Street, near Second Avenue. There he began to establish himself as one of New York’s leading church musicians. The building has wonderful acoustics. With a small volunteer choir, and just a handful of paid singers, he prepared ambitious programs of service music, using both standard and new works in the Anglo-American tradition. He presented, as well, more extensive works to be sung at frequent Evensongs. In short, his music program at this small Manhattan parish attracted the interest of many leading New York musicians, and his reputation both as an expert and an innovator grew quickly.

When Columbia University was seeking a director of chapel music at St. Paul’s Chapel in 1952, Searle received this prestigious appointment. He remained in this position for nineteen years, until 1971. Concurrently, he was a member of the music faculty of Columbia and The School of Sacred Music, Union Theological Seminary. 

In addition to his full schedule of services, concerts, and rehearsals at St. Paul’s Chapel, he presented recitals and workshops throughout the United States. He served the American Guild of Organists as a member of the examination board, as national secretary, then from 1969 until 1971 as national president. He was instrumental in starting the AGO Young Organist Competition (1952). He was the first American organist to give a recital in Westminster Abbey (1954). He was co-chair of the program committee for the 1956 AGO Convention in New York City. He was chairman of the American “wing” at the 1957 International Congress of Organists, and for this effort, as well as his accomplishments in the field of church music, he was awarded the FTCL, honoris causa from Trinity College of Music, London. He was a member of the committee that designed Lincoln Center’s new Aeolian-Skinner organ (1963).

As a teacher in organ playing, composition and improvisation, he influenced an entire generation of American church musicians. He was an impeccable service player and a fine choir director. As a composer, he left a corpus of organ, chamber, choral, and instrumental works, both sacred and secular, that will remain a significant part of twentieth-century music.

It was a family tradition to spend time every summer on the St. Lawrence River near Clayton in the Thousand Islands region (and did Searle love Longchamps’ Thousand Island dressing on his salads!). After moving to New York City, he would join his parents for several days at their vacation spot on the river. Some of his compositions were first sketched there; he would also plan his upcoming music schedules. Beginning in the 1950s it was to England where Searle would return each summer, putting his assistant in charge of the chapel music program during those months. Based at the fashionable Park Lane Hotel on Piccadilly, he investigated every nook and cranny in the British capital and traveled to every corner of the English countryside. The summer would culminate with trips to Worcester, Hereford, or Gloucester to attend the Three Choirs Festival, an event that attracted him every year from the mid-1950s into the late 1990s. He was honored several years ago when the festival committee programmed some of his compositions. Each year Searle would return from England laden with a ton of new choral and/or orchestral scores, many of which were premiered by him in America at St. Paul’s Chapel concerts.

Searle was admired by legions of colleagues, students, and friends the world over, including many of the outstanding church musicians of the twentieth century. My generation and younger generations looked and will look to this man for guidance and inspiration. Through his compositions, his improvisations, through his innovative program building, and through his students and disciples,  the world of music was and is a far richer place.

I would not be able to end this tribute without speaking of Louise Meyer, the wonderful individual mentioned above. As music secretary during Searle’s tenure at both the Chapel of the Incarnation and St. Paul’s Chapel, she freed him from many tasks--preparing choir schedules, preparing payrolls and service music lists, preparing recital and concert programs for the printer, answering telephone calls, correspondence, etc.--in short, keeping him free to do all the musical things. Louise loved to sing in the choir, and she was a fine second soprano!

What final tribute can we offer this dignified, impeccably dressed, remarkable, good-hearted soul, this special human being? Perhaps an ancient text, a Rabbinic commentary from a Midrash, would be helpful.

Two ships were once seen to be sailing near land. One of them was going forth from the harbor, and the other was coming into the harbor. Everyone was cheering the outgoing ship, everyone was giving it a hearty send-off. But the incoming ship was scarcely noticed.

A wise man was looking at the two ships, and he said: “I see here a paradox; for surely, people should not rejoice at the ship leaving the harbor, since they know not what destiny awaits it, what storms it may encounter, what dangers it may have to undergo. Rejoice rather over the ship that has reached port safely and brought back all of its passengers in peace.”

By the same token, it is the way of the world that when a human being is born, all rejoice; but when the person dies, all sorrow. Rather, the opposite ought to be considered. No one can tell what troubles await the child on its journey into adulthood. But when a person dies after living well, all should give thanks, for he has completed his journey successfully and is departing from this world with an imperishable crown of a good name.

Searle Wright earned the crown of a good name. Our loss of him is great--but the gain of those who knew him is far greater still. He lived well, for himself, for others, and for his God. Requiescat in pace.

Interview with D. A. Flentrop (1910–2003)

Jan-Piet Knijff was born in Haarlem, the Netherlands. He is Organist-in-Residence at the Aaron Copland School of Music, Queens College, CUNY and Adjunct Professor of Music at Fairfield University. His organ teachers were Piet Kee, Ewald Kooiman (MM/Artist Diploma, Amsterdam 1996) and Christoph Wolff. He won both the first prize and the Prize of the Audience at the International Bach Competition, Lausanne, Switzerland (1997). He has contributed articles to Het Orgel, The Tracker, and various other journals.

Dirk Andries Flentrop, undoubtedly the best-known Dutch organ builder of the past century worldwide, died on 30 November 2003 at the age of 93. (For an obituary, see The Diapason, February 2004, "Nunc Dimittis," page 6.) Flentrop occupied a key position in the development of the post-World War II "modern" organ. International recognition was not long in coming: Flentrop built about 80 organs in the USA, restored organs as far away as Mexico City, and received honorary doctorates from two American universities. This  interview first appeared in Dutch in Het Orgel in 1999, while the actual interviewing took place in April and May of that year.*

It has been already more than 25 years since he retired from organ building. Since then, Flentrop--born and bred in the Zaanstreek just north of Amsterdam--has lived in an apartment near Haarlem. His living room features an old Steinway piano and a small harpsichord.

Flentrop explains the move away from his hometown: "I really wanted to quit. I had sold my shares to the employees. As a consequence, I had to let go of the business. That's why I moved here, even though I really didn't want to leave Zaandam." Flentrop speaks quietly, deliberately, thoughtfully. He just turned 89 but is still full of vitality. He comes down in person to open the door of his apartment building and since his wife is not home, he makes a cup of tea for his visitor. No need for help; but would I be so kind to pour the hot water from the pot into the cup? "That way there's a higher chance that it doesn't land on the table," he says, smilingly.

He suggests that I sit down next to the window; that way I have the light in my face, which will make it easier for him to understand me. His eyes and ears are not what they used to be. "I use a big magnifying glass for reading, that just about works. My wife marks in the newspaper what I should be reading."

It isn't quite so easy to make an appointment for an interview, because Flentrop keeps busy. "I don't want to call myself the househusband, but because my wife teaches at the university, I do take care of small jobs and run errands," he says. In addition, Flentrop is a member of the Rotary and of a social club. He takes a scant interest in the organ world. "The organist of our church here in town plays in Schiedam this coming Saturday. I built that organ, so I look forward to going there. And on Friday, Jos van der Kooy plays a request program at the Westerkerk1 to raise money for the restoration of the small organ, which I have built. So yes, we will be going, but I don't think we'll be staying all night. The concert is supposed to be three times 45 minutes. That's a bit too much for me, honestly."

Flentrop finds it hard to understand that I have come to write an article about him. He hopes that it doesn't become some kind of glorification of his personality. I explain to him that the article will appear in a special issue on the Neo-Baroque; his wife has warned me in advance that he hates that word.

Why do you dislike that term so much?

"Because I have never tried to contribute to a neo-style. I have always tried to be myself," he says calmly but with involvement. After a brief silence, he continues: "I have never had the illusion that in the twentieth century, one could build an organ that equals an instrument from, say, 1700. I felt that (a) we weren't able to do that with our staff at the time, the technical know-how, etc., and (b) we live in 1950 and we have to make something that we think is beautiful at this point in time. Maybe I was wrong, but that's what I thought back then."

"I remember being flabbergasted when Reil presented their copy of a Schnitger organ.2 I myself had considered making a copy of the Oosthuizen organ,3 simply to learn from it. But I was convinced that nobody would want to buy an organ with a short octave and mean-tone temperament. The time was not yet ripe for it. Later I abandoned the idea of copying, hence my surprise when, ten years later, Reil came with the Schnitger copy."

Flentrop thinks that the 1950s--with the illustrious restoration of the Schnitger organ at Zwolle as trendsetter--were essential for the direction the firm was to take. But Zwolle was definitely not the starting point. What was?

Flentrop: "In the 1920s, I had spoken a few times with Mr. Mahrenholz, the big man of the Orgelbewegung. His book on organ scaling became invaluable to me later on, although in retrospect I have to admit that I got a few things totally wrong. Anyway, as a youngster, I was of course very much impressed with a man like Mahrenholz."

Then, there was that remarkable encounter with Albert Schweitzer.

Flentrop: "That was in 1927; I had just turned 17. My father4 had built a pneumatic organ in Koog aan de Zaan, with a purely ornamental, silent R?ºckpositiv. At the time, Schweitzer was traveling around the world in order to raise money for his hospital in Africa. He came to Zaandam and gave a lecture at the Mennonite Church." Flentrop smiles. "Looking back it is hard to believe that he came to get money from the Mennonites in Zaandam, but anyway. My dad and I went to the lecture and we were bold enough to ask Schweitzer whether he would come to hear our new organ. Sure enough, he agreed. We didn't have a car or anything, but there was a livery nearby, and off we went in a carriage to Koog."

"Schweitzer examined the organ and listened to it very carefully. Then he said to my dad: 'Flentrop, you could make a good organ, but you have to convert to become a craftsman.' That sounded puzzling. Our parts came from Laukhuff, and the pipes from a pipe factory. It was hard to believe that that should influence the quality of the organ. Yet, I somehow felt that Schweitzer's words rang true, and I told him that I wanted to know more about it and that I was looking for an apprenticeship to learn the trade. He told me to come and meet him the next day at the place where he was staying in Amsterdam--a gigantic villa opposite the Concertgebouw, as it turned out." Flentrop pauses; then continues: "I still can't understand that a man like Schweitzer took the question of a youngster of 17 one-hundred-percent seriously."

Schweitzer suggested that Flentrop take an apprenticeship in Alsace. The idea appealed to the 17-year-old, but the French government wouldn't give him a work permit, even though Flentrop was prepared to work for nothing. And so Dirk ended up working for a small builder in Germany, Faust, at Schwelm, in the Ruhr area. Flentrop: "They made everything themselves, except for the pipes. The same was true for that organ builder of Schweitzer's, Dalstein-Haerpfer."

After a period at home in Zaandam, Flentrop went abroad again, this time with Frobenius in Denmark. Flentrop: "They built organs with pneumatic cone-chests, but with a free-standing console, so that the organist was able to conduct the choir from the organ. The pneumatic machine stood in the organ case; the action from the console to the machine was purely mechanical. And that worked fine. That was really my first step to a fully-mechanical action."

In 1934, the then 24-year-old Flentrop presented a paper at the conference of the Dutch Society of Organists, about "Slider chest and R?ºckpositiv." He remembers the paper mainly as an argument for mechanical action, which is almost automatically connected with those two elements. "At the time, many churches installed hot-air heating, so that one windchest after another broke down. I was therefore somewhat cautious in mentioning the slider chest. The difference in tone quality was something I didn't quite understand at the time either."

But the die was cast and in 1939 the Flentrop firm built its first organ with full mechanical action for the New York World's Fair. One year later, Flentrop took over the business from his father. The way in which this took place reflects both the family relationship and the social circumstances of the time.

Flentrop: "I had to buy the business, of course. At a ridiculously low price, but I didn't have a penny. So I borrowed the money from my father. We agreed that every month I would pay off so much that my parents could get by. Thankfully, I always managed to do that. But in those first few years, very little else was left."

An important milestone was the organ that Flentrop built in 1950 at Loenen aan de Vecht. Flentrop: "The one-manual B?§tz organ on top of the soundboard over the pulpit had burned down. The Historic Buildings Council wanted a copy of the B?§tz fa?ßade, but the organist wanted a two-manual organ with independent pedal and an electric console downstairs in the church because of the contact with the congregation. I definitely did not want an electric console, but I liked the idea of a two-manual organ with a R?ºckpositiv. The architect was a man called Ferdinand B. Jantzen, whom I liked a lot. He could draw very well, a real virtuoso, and understood what I wanted. I went to see him one Saturday morning with the requirements: the organ had to be close enough to the old B?§tz organ for the Historic Buildings Council to accept it; it had to be a two-manual organ with a small pedal; and the organist had to sit in front of the main case for the contact with the congregation. Jantzen sketched the design in no time; we hardly deviated from it later on." Flentrop gets the sketch out of his files; it's clearly the work of a practically-thinking artist. He continues: "That the R?ºckpositiv was so compact was the only possibility given the limited space. But when the organ was finished, I thought: gee, that sounds pretty nice. That was due to the compactness. At Loenen we also made part of the pipes ourselves: a Regal--that's all we could manage back then. I still had Schweitzer's words about craftsmanship in the back of my mind. That was the direction I wanted to take."

Flentrop thinks that he has just been very, very lucky in his life. "I was always in the right place at the right time," he says. "Take that encounter with Schweitzer. Without him I might never have been put on that track. It's coincidence, but on the other hand, you can't really call it that. In my opinion, there has to be guidance in one way or another. Not necessarily in a Christian sense, but guidance--yes, absolutely."

Coincidence or guidance, a similar event was the basis of Flentrop's contact with America, which was to develop into an enormous export of Flentrop organs to the U.S. Flentrop: "When things got really moving, we made half our annual turnover in America." Not surprisingly, the Dutch newspaper De Telegraaf dedicated one installment of their 1971 series of articles on major Dutch export firms to Flentrop Orgelbouw, along with firms like Heineken and Philips.

It all started with a visit of American organ consultant Dr. Robert Baker to the Netherlands. Baker met Flentrop at the dedication of the Flentrop organ in Wageningen in 1955. Baker was mainly impressed by the fact that Flentrop made everything themselves. He invited him to read a paper at the conference of the American Guild of Organists in New York. Flentrop thinks that Baker must have regretted extending that invitation often enough: "He was not in favor of mechanical action at all. He found us interesting because we were different from the Americans."

You were the clog maker who came to tell the Americans how clogs were still being handmade in good old Holland.

Flentrop: "Exactly. But the result was totally different: the Americans were terribly enthusiastic."

Another even more important contact was E. Power Biggs. Flentrop: "He had a radio program in which he introduced unknown organ music. He was very clever in finding old works. For example, he came up with those pieces for two organs by Soler. He would organize a second organ and play them with a colleague. Anyway, Power Biggs came to Europe to visit historic organs. He had a contact at the embassy, but the Dutch sextons gave him a hard time. So in the end they called me. As it happened, I didn't have much to do that day, so I said, OK, I'll come to Amsterdam. He and his wife were waiting for me in the hotel lobby, so that was pretty obvious. But after our conversation I said: Excuse me--what was your name again? He was perplexed: that I had come down all the way to Amsterdam without knowing that he was the famous E. Power Biggs!"

Power Biggs became the promoter of Flentrop organs in America. Flentrop: "Three months after our meeting I got a letter from him. He had gotten Harvard University to get an organ from me. After the organ was finished, he made a record with twice the same piece. On the one side, he played on an American organ with a stuffy 8-foot stop--what he called 'a dull sound.' On the other side was the same piece on the Flentrop organ, with flutes 8 and 2, I guess. You don't want to know how many letters I got because of that little record. Would I please build an instrument like that for this-or-that church, would I please contact them when I was in the States again, and so on."

A third reason for the American Flentrop boom was the Fulbright scholarships. Senator Fulbright thought a system of scholarships was the ideal way of helping to get Europe going in the post-World War II years and to let Americans profit from the European knowledge and culture. Countless American organists came to Europe as Fulbright Scholars, most of them as students of Helmut Walcha. Flentrop knew Walcha because of his recordings at the Alkmaar Schnitger, which had been restored by Flentrop.

Flentrop: "Walcha said to his students: Go see Flentrop--he's a good guy. Later on, some American remarked that Mrs. Flentrop--my first wife--had done more for American students in the form of cups of coffee than any international organization whatsoever."

From the democratically-thinking American churches Flentrop learned to say what's important in a plain and simple way. Flentrop: "The whole congregation had to be consulted on the purchase of a new organ. Would I be so kind to come and tell them all about it? Of course, they weren't going to buy an organ just like that. That was kind of scary. But anyway, about the direct contact at a mechanical organ I would tell them: Look, here's a violinist playing. But his violin is thirty feet away. Is that musical? All in pretty mediocre English, you know. But perhaps that was why I was able to make things clear. I was altogether unable to use difficult words."

Were you a born businessman, like so many people from the Zaanstreek?

Decisively: "Definitely not. In my enthusiasm for building beautiful organs I have often enough made too low an estimate. In doing so, I have often financially burned my fingers and the company's. On the other hand, there were business advantages as well. Because a part of the income in dollars was tax-deductible at the time, we were able to do things that would have been impossible otherwise. I was not so un-businesslike that I'd overlook things like that."

When we meet again, two weeks later, Flentrop appears to have thought a lot about our first conversation. "I really think that we started too late," he starts off. "I mean, Schweitzer, OK--but it really all started with my father, even before I was around. My dad was organist of the Westzijderkerk at Zaandam. The church had a small Duyschot organ with about fourteen stops.5 When the church was restored, around 1900, the organ too was taken care of. As a matter of fact, Steenkuyl6 built a new pneumatic organ behind the Duyschot fa?ßade, using, I believe, four Duyschot stops. Just imagine: the organ case was expanded from three to fourteen feet deep. Steenkuyl was a decent builder, but he was a child of his time, of course. My father became very disappointed with the organ renovation in the end. At first, there probably was the euphoria about the beautiful new console, but within a few years the action got slower and slower. As long as I can remember I heard lamentations about the Steenkuyl organ--and hymns of praise about the old Duyschot. 'With that organ, I could at least accompany the congregation properly,' my dad used to say."

"I think that, after all, that was perhaps what most determined the direction I wanted to take in organ building. I have always hated those Cornet-Mixtures that were quite common back then: Cornet in the treble, Mixture in the bass. That Steenkuyl organ in particular was reason for my attempt to make a clear and intense sounding organ. Organs with guts."

"That there turned out to be similarities with the Baroque organ, fine. But I have never pretended to be able to make a Baroque organ today. I found, you live in this era and you try to make something good now. I have always tried to make the console as comfortable as possible for organists today. I did not want your knees to hit the board all the time, as is often the case with historic organs; I liked the keyboards to stick out comfortably. In America, we also made radial pedalboards."

"Later we had to change this to an extent. Klaas Bolt7 thought it better not to sit so comfortably at the organ. If one was not so comfortable, the correct pedal articulations happened of their own accord--that was his way of thinking. Of course there is a connection with the construction of the keyboards and the action. If the key comes too far forward, the action becomes less direct."

"But the fact remains that I was more or less forced by the consultants to build more and more in historic traditions. I remember Harald Vogel visiting us at the end of the 1960s. We had just built an organ in Osnabr?ºck, Germany, and the design of the organ matched the Gothic architecture of the church. Of course, the fa?ßade reflected the inner construction of the organ. Vogel harshly criticized the austere design of the organ. In his opinion, one had to copy seventeenth-century organs very carefully. To him, each little profile influenced the sound. That was too much for me, frankly."

Flentrop has also made himself a big name as restorer of historic instruments. One of his first restorations was the Van Hagerbeer/Schnitger organ at Alkmaar. Forty years later, the organ was again restored by Flentrop Orgelbouw, although this time much more thoroughly. Flentrop: "I am very happy about that. The second restoration was so successful mainly because we had been so cautious the first time." The restraint at the first restoration was mostly due to Flentrop's personal respect for the old builders. Flentrop: "Mr. Bouman,8 who had a finger in the pie almost everywhere, was consultant. In his opinion, the Hauptwerk needed a Gedeckt 8 and a Flute 4. All right. But how to make a Gedeckt and a Flute? You cut off the old Quint 6 and Quint 3, put a cap on, and there's your Gedeckt. What did I do? I made a new Gedeckt and a new Flute, and put the old Quint 6 and 3 in storage in the bellow house of the organ. I wouldn't consider the idea of cutting-and-pasting Schnitger pipes for a split second. So, at the last restoration, those old Quints returned in the organ."

Alkmaar is not the only organ where time has overtaken a previous restoration. At the van Dam organ in Enschede,9 restored and modernized by Flentrop in the early 1950s, the changes Flentrop made in the stoplist have meanwhile been undone.

What do you think of the changes you made in the specification back then?

Without hesitation: "I would do it again. With that kind of organ, yes. Schnitger, no. Van Dam and Witte,10 yes. I thought, if I can improve something in these organs, I'll do it."

In other words, you wouldn't cry for the loss of the large Witte organ in The Hague?

"They should be happy that they got rid of it."

You must have regretted that it was not a Flentrop organ that took its place.

"Yes, that was a tough moment. But I do think the Metzler is a magnificent instrument."

It comes as no surprise that in building new organs, Flentrop drew inspiration from recent restorations. Flentrop: "When you restore an organ, it grabs you, it becomes part of you. It is hard to tell how exactly that influence becomes part of a new organ. But I am sure that if somebody would make a study of it, he could exactly demonstrate how the experience with restorations made itself felt in our new organs."

Flentrop has mixed feelings about the development of Dutch organ building since his retirement. Flentrop: "There are very many good organ builders. The technical knowledge is enormous and the artistic level is high. So far one can only be optimistic about the future. Personally, I find it a pity that so many organs are built in the style of this or the other eighteenth- or nineteenth-century builder. I would have loved to see a development toward a style of one's own. Perhaps it's a lack of creative power. Or the fear that an organ in a style of one's own will necessarily be less good than the historic organs."

"I have always wanted to build organs that radiated a certain strength. 'Here I stand--treat me with respect.' The idea that one has to be able to play everything on an organ is to me sheer nonsense, although I have to admit that I have tried to make such an instrument once or twice in the past. On the other hand, it's often amazes me how much literature can be played convincingly on an historic organ."

Flentrop sees two roads for the future of organ building: "I await the advent of a purely mechanical organ in a style of one's own. Not necessarily different from 300 years ago, but made now, not a copy. Another road is that of electronics, with pipes as a basis, perhaps, but with microphones and amplifiers one can do all sorts of things. I think that it may be possible to produce a kind of music with that kind of instrument that may be worthwhile for some people--as long as I don't have to make it! I don't disapprove of it; it's just a world that's totally strange to me."

"I have always tried to make an organ that is a unity, a simple unity. Of course, an organ is a multiple by its very nature. But nevertheless, one has to try to fit everything together harmoniously, so that the instrument presents itself as a unity. And simplicity--keep things simple. That is often difficult, because organists--excuse me--have a tendency to want more than is possible. When presented with a specification for a new organ, they always ask, can't you add this or that stop? They'll never ask you to take something out."

Not too long ago, he has read that with some philosopher or another: that beauty can only exist if the particular object is a perfect unity. "I just think that the man who can make that possible has yet to be born."

* Het Orgel 95 (1999), no. 4: 25-28 (with English summary). No changes have been made to the article, with the exception of the addition of the opening paragraph and of the endnotes. Translation by the author; I am indebted to Ronald Stolk for his valuable comments.